From Portside Culture <[email protected]>
Subject Danny Boyle’s “28 Days Later”
Date September 13, 2023 12:00 AM
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[ A Zombie Film that Still Speaks to Our Current World, and with
Quite a Bit of Class ]
[[link removed]]

PORTSIDE CULTURE

DANNY BOYLE’S “28 DAYS LATER”  
[[link removed]]


 

Billy J. Stratton
September 8, 2023
Hollywood Progressive
[[link removed]]

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[[link removed]]
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[[link removed]]
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[[link removed]]

_ A Zombie Film that Still Speaks to Our Current World, and with
Quite a Bit of Class _

"28 Days Later" Classic Danny Boyle Zombie Horror Film Starring
Cillian Murphy, Film Poster "28 Days Later"

 

WIth Christopher Nolan
[[link removed]]’s
biopic, _Oppenheimer,_ racking up astronomical numbers surpassing
$850 million
[[link removed]-(2023)#tab=summary] in
global box office receipts, Cillian Murphy
[[link removed]] has emerged as a front-runner
[[link removed]] for
next year’s Best Actor Oscar
[[link removed]].
The lead role of J. Robert Oppenheimer was a perfect fit for an actor
of Murphy’s approach and talents, earning him extensive praise for
his preparation, dedication and sacrifice
[[link removed]].

Beyond the wide acclaim, Murphy’s stirring portrayal of the film’s
titular character has even been cited for reshaping the film’s
score
[[link removed]].
It’s a performance that has cemented his reputation as being among
today’s most talented actors. His increased renown, however, has
also attracted some unwanted attention, as illustrated by the
unauthorized use of footage from _Peaky Blinders _in the DeSantis
campaign’s
[[link removed]] desperate
attempts to divert attention from a collapse that has been in
“Florida man
[[link removed]]...”
freefall since his anger-fueled presidential bid was launched on
Twitter
[[link removed]].

Speaking of visceral emotions and uncontrollable anger, we are
reminded of the impressive performance Murphy turned in Danny Boyle
[[link removed]]’s _28 Days Later_
[[link removed]]. In his role
as a disoriented survivor turned hero named Jim who struggles to live
through the effects of an epidemic called “rage
[[link removed]],” the minimalist
dialogue, complimented with smoldering emotion distinguished his role
from the more one-dimensional portrayals seen in similar movies.
Boyle’s direction is further bolstered by a taut screenplay written
by Alex Garland
[[link removed]],
whose previous credits include _The Beach_
[[link removed]]_ _(novel,
1997; film
[[link removed]] 2000), _Sunshine_
[[link removed]] (2007), also
directed by Boyle and starring Murphy, and _Ex Machina_
[[link removed]] (2014).

The infected in _28 Days Later_ are distinguished from the menacing
but slow-moving dead typical to most zombie flicks in their framing a
deceptively complex narrative that addresses a range of profound
social issues. The film’s categorization as ‘horror’ has led to
its complexity and seriousness being overlooked by those with an
aversion to films of this genre and the audiences they attract. Its
embrace by the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy, & Horror Films
[[link removed]] and selection for
a Fangoria [[link removed]] Chainsaw
Award also reinforce this marginalized designation, while recognition
on numerous ‘best of
[[link removed]]’
lists of zombie films distant it further from the realm of
‘serious’ filmmaking for aficionados who tend to look down their
noses at genre cinema.

Critics have noted the Academy of Motion Picture Sciences’
long-established tendency to disregard this popular creative form
[[link removed]],
with some dismissing it as ‘low brow’ and just plain gross. Such
viewers are unable to embrace Noël Carroll's aesthetic appreciation
of horror [[link removed]]’s attraction rooted
in “fascination with the categorically transgressive beings that
star in the genre [[link removed]].” Scorn of
this nature extends especially to films that exploit the ambiguity
between camp and disgust inherent to classic monster figures [Can
somebody give me a handclap
[[link removed]] for Max Schreck
[[link removed]], Brigette
Helm
[[link removed]], Lon
Chaney, Sr.
[[link removed]], Bela
Lugosi
[[link removed]] (thanks Bauhaus
[[link removed]]!), Fredric March
[[link removed]], Boris
Karloff
[[link removed]], Elsa
Lancaster
[[link removed]], Lon
Chaney, Jr.
[[link removed]], Simone
Simon
[[link removed]], Benjamin
F. Chapman Jr. [[link removed]], Maila
Nurmi
[[link removed]],
aka ‘Vampira [[link removed]],’
and Sheila Vand
[[link removed]]?].

Amidst such a fraught and ambiguous aesthetic landscape, it is useful
to reflect on the values, meanings and knowledge evoked by the horror
label. Before delving into these complexities, however, it’s
necessary to first define the parameters of the form itself,
considering how films with similarly terrifying themes often get
differentiated between the categories of horror and something else.
This broader question parallels the way ‘classic’ films are seen
as transcending genre categories in much the same way certain literary
works enter that reified realm of the “literary canon
[[link removed]].”

The (In)visible Horror of Oppenheimer

_Oppenheimer _centers on one of the most horrifying themes of modern
human experience: nuclear war. It joins a long list of films
addressing the existential dread provoked by the potential use of
atomic and nuclear weapons, particularly against the United States.
The chilling nature of this threat was transformed from one of shock
and awe at the devastation wrought against Japan to a distressingly
realistic possibility of our own victimization with the Soviet
Union’s first successful atomic bomb test
[[link removed]] in
August of 1949. This development has fueled a Cold War
[[link removed]] legacy
that humanity has been living with since.

The narrative heart of _Oppenheimer_ focuses on the creation of the
atomic bomb
[[link removed]],
culminating in the horrific obliteration of Hiroshima and Nagasaki
[[link removed]]. These attacks
resulted in the almost immediate deaths of over 100,000 people
[[link removed]],
incinerating most instantaneously, with hundreds of thousands
more succumbing to radioactive fallout
[[link removed]]. While
this appalling brutality is certainly horrific, narratives that depict
this event are not typically categorized as horror in cinema or
literature.

Stanley Kubrick’s _Dr. Strangelove_ is one film that challenges
the absurd distinction that places historical figures responsible for
atrocities above the monstrous lot of horror villains. The film
features a deranged Brigadier General brilliantly played by Sterling
Hayden [[link removed]] with the
slasher-inspired name of Jack D. Ripper
[[link removed]]. The connection
Kubrick’s move exposes is even more provocative when we recall the
moral context that frames many of the prime figures of the slasher
genre
[[link removed]],
from Jason Voorhees
[[link removed]] and Freddy
Kruger
[[link removed](original_timeline)] to Clive
Barker [[link removed]]’s Pinhead
[[link removed]] (not the Ramones
[[link removed]]’) and Hideo
Nakata’s Sadako Yamamura
[[link removed]].

In Stephen Graham Jones [[link removed]]’ _My Heart
is a Chainsaw_
[[link removed]],
expert horrorologist Jade Daniels
[[link removed]] highlights
the complex moral landscape in which these figures operate to right
the “unfairness” that drives many slasher narratives. In the first
of her “Slasher 101” entries, she writes, “years ago there was
some prank or crime that hurt someone and then the slasher comes back
to dispense his violent brand of justice.” Can we get another
handclap for Gunnar Hansen
[[link removed]], Ellen Sandweiss
[[link removed]], Nick Castle
[[link removed]], Steven Dash
[[link removed]], Richard Brooker
[[link removed]], Kane
Hodder [[link removed]], Tony Todd
[[link removed]], Doug Bradley
[[link removed]], Robert
Englund [[link removed]], Natasha Henstridge
[[link removed]] and Rie Inō
[[link removed]]?

The significant amount of screentime dedicated to the framing
narrative focused on the animosity Lewis Strauss harbored
[[link removed]] for
Oppenheimer is one of the features distinguishing Nolan’s offering
from the archive of nuclear war films. This distinction is further
emphasized through the narrative pivot that occurs in the scenes
taking place in the aftermath of the bombs’ use. This move shifts
our attention to a narrative thread concentrated on the ill treatment
Oppenheimer was subjected to in a post-war America caught in the grip
of a military industrial complex
[[link removed]] leveraging Cold War
fears and the hysteria of McCarthyism
[[link removed]].

_Oppenheimer_, thus, proposes that the wider horror of its story lies
not just in the bombs themselves, but in those people who would use
them for their own selfish ends. As Arthur Miller depicted
[[link removed]] in _The
Crucible_ [[link removed]],_ _such are
the people who are willing to destroy anyone around them to satisfy
their own thirst for power.

Dystopian Inspirations and 28 Days Later

In Danny Boyle’s _28 Days Later_, the key event centers on the
outbreak of a highly contagious virus called “rage”—a theme made
more chilling in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic. _28 Days
Later_ further exploits fears around corrupt or evil institutions
that operate with little concern for the public’s well-being through
a bio-engineered virus released from the “Cambridge Primate Research
Centre,”—an vivisection
[[link removed]] or animal testing
laboratory much like the one depicted in Richard Adams’ novel
(and animated film
[[link removed]]) _The Plague
Dogs_
[[link removed]].

Although the outbreak itself is caused by the recklessness of some
well-meaning animal rights activists
[[link removed]], the warning of the lab
scientist, who stands as a representation of knowledge and progress
associated with elite research institutions, is telling. As the
activists enter, he anxiously informs them that the chimpanzees are
“infected” and “highly contagious,” reflecting the sense of
hubris and superiority inherent to Western culture’s relationship
with the natural world. He goes on to declare with unintended irony,
“in order to cure. You must understand.”

The caged and tormented chimps that the activists have broken into the
lab to free have been subjected to a litany of cruel medical
experimentation and psychological manipulation that belies the
research centre’s purportedly humane mission. The chimps are bound
before a bank of monitors that bombard them with violent images
reminiscent of the “Two Minutes Hate
[[link removed]]” in George
Orwell’s _Nineteen Eighty-Four_
[[link removed]], as well as
the Ludovico technique
[[link removed]] of
Anthony Burgess’ _A Clockwork Orange_
[[link removed]]—immortalized
in the scene in which Malcolm McDowell is forced to watch a litany of
violent images while his eyes are held open by a draconian medical
device
[[link removed]] in
Kubrick’s adaptation.

When an activist releases the first chimp from its cage
[[link removed]] it immediately attacks
them, resulting in the swift infection of all present. This results in
a convulsive transformation rendering them as monstrous beings whose
only will is to acts of murderous violence reflecting the basest, most
vicious aspects of humanity. Like many historical disasters
[[link removed]], this
too, is self-inflicted.

The film’s place within the horror genre primarily arises from its
portrayal of a disease that drives the infected to an even more
extreme form of “ultraviolence
[[link removed]]”
than Burgess envisioned
[[link removed](Lynne)%20Jones.],
while also exceeding that depicted in much dystopian fiction. This
shift in focus from the disease itself distinguishes _28 Days
Later_ from other films on the epidemic theme.

Notwithstanding its unique take on the expression of symptoms that
render the zombiefied
[[link removed]] infected as inhumane,
and thus, monstrous
[[link removed]],
Boyle’s film_ _joins a narrative tradition that explores human
reactions to the psychological strain and collective terror of this
driver of mass death. While Albert Camus’ _La Peste_
[[link removed]]_ _(_The
Plague_, 1947) provides one the most celebrated treatments of this
theme, numerous filmmakers have produced movies that evocatively
convey the terrifying effects of epidemics. Notable examples include
Sidney Salkow’s _The Last Man on Earth_
[[link removed]] (1964) and Boris
Sagal’s _The Omega Man_
[[link removed]] (1971), films
based on Richard Matheson’s novel, _I Am Legend_
[[link removed]], which also
inspired Francis Lawrence’s 2007 adaptation
[[link removed]], along with
Robert Wise’s _The Andromeda Strain_
[[link removed]] (1971), which
Michael Creighton adapted from his 1969 novel of the same name.

These are joined by Ingmar Bergman’s superb meditation on the Black
Death in _The Seventh Seal_
[[link removed]] (1957), along
with George A. Romero’s _The Crazies_
[[link removed]] (1973),
Felipe Cazals’ _El año de la peste_
[[link removed]] (The
Year of the Plague, 1979, with a screenplay adapted from Daniel
Defoe’s _A Journal of the Plague Year_ by Juan Arturo Brennan and
Gabriel García Márquez), Lars von Trier’s _Epidemic_
[[link removed]] (1987), Terry
Gilliam’s _12 Monkeys_
[[link removed]] (1995),
Wolfgang Petersen’s _Outbreak_
[[link removed]] (1995), Juame
Balagueró’s and Paco Plaza’s _[__•__REC]_
[[link removed]] (2007) and
Steven Soderbergh’s _Contagion_
[[link removed]] (2011).

Beyond the Veil of the Zombie Epidemic

Like many films in the horror genre, _28 Days Later_ conveys a
potent message through a compelling story with wide popular appeal.
Delivering a biting social commentary that emerges behind the cover of
its jump scares, it’s a film that levels a forceful denunciation
of toxic masculinity
[[link removed]] and authoritarianism
[[link removed]]—concerns of
urgent relevance in a world of increasing political oppression
[[link removed]] and
nationalistic fervor. Boyle sets the stage for this critique through
the presence of two strong, diverse female characters, Selena and
Hannah, played by Naomie Harris
[[link removed]] and Megan
Burns [[link removed]],
respectively, who are among two pairs of survivors Jim initially joins
up with.

Harris’ commanding performance as Selena adeptly projects the
persona of a strong Black woman to serve as a foil to a timid and
quiet Jim. Harris, along with Milla Jovovich in _Resident Evil_
[[link removed]],
cast a new mold for the kind of tough and resilient female characters
that would become common to the zombie genre most prominently through
AMC’s _The Walking Dead_, featuring a host of examples from Carol,
Maggie, Michonne, Sasha, Rosita, Enid and Judith, to Jadis and Alpha.

Selena also represents the most well-adjusted survivor to the
apocalyptic scenario depicted in _28 Days Later_. Boyle emphasizes
her character’s toughness soon after her introduction in a harrowing
scene whereby she is forced to kill her partner, Mark, when he becomes
infected. This occurs just after they assist Jim in escaping a mob of
infected [[link removed]] after having
sought refuge in a church where a message scrawled on the wall warns
of the perils to come: “Repent The End Is Extremely Fucking Nigh.”

Defending her actions to a stunned Jim, Selena doesn’t waste words:
“look, if someone gets infected you've got between ten and twenty
seconds to kill them.
[[link removed]] It might be your
brother, or your sister, or your oldest friend. It makes no
difference. And just so you know where you stand, if it happens to
you, I'll do it in a heartbeat.” Her statement, while foreshadowing
a powerful climax to come, demands that Jim face the dreadful nature
of the situation in which the apocalyptic Britain he awoke to has
displaced all that he previously knew.

Their situation is complicated when they join up with a father and
daughter [[link removed]], Frank (Brendan
Gleeson [[link removed]])
and Hannah, holed up in a high-rise tower estate
[[link removed]] or council
block
[[link removed]].
It’s a setting that also provides a nod to the tenacity of
working-class people and their will to survive through their own
ingenuity. Hannah and Jim’s stay in this refuge is short-lived,
however, as the group are driven from the high-rise, which J.G.
Ballard reminds us
[[link removed]] can
quickly become its own kind of dystopia, due to its lack of water.

The difficulty in obtaining this most fundamental natural resource
serves as an allusion to the urgent threat global warming poses to
human civilization through drought, another apocalyptic theme Ballard
addressed in his fiction
[[link removed]].
Frank emphasizes this point in surveying an assortment of empty
buckets spread over the building’s roof to collect rainwater:
“you'd never think it...needing rain so badly. Not in fucking
England
[[link removed]]!”

This dire situation forces them to confront the horrors that lurk all
around them to seek out a more secure and permanent shelter, while
heartened by a faint radio transmission promising, “salvation is
here. The answer to infection is here. If you can hear this, you're
not alone. There are others like you. There are others like you. There
are other survivors. We are soldiers, and we are armed. And we can
protect you. Our location is the 42nd blockade in the M-602...You must
find us. Salvation is here.”

With Frank at the helm of his taxi, Hannah, Selena and Jim depart on
journey replete with apocalyptic trappings. These include abandoned
towns they scavenge for food, rousing nostalgia for a past of lost
abundance (and wastefulness), along with close calls with infected and
peaceful moments of personal bonding. Their trip leads them to
a hauntingly empty M1
[[link removed]],
where they witness Manchester engulfed in flames, before finally
reaching the promised blockade.

Something doesn’t seem quite right as they find the site abandoned
but any suspicions are eclipsed by the horror of Frank’s infection
by a droplet of blood
[[link removed]] that falls into
his eye from a corpse due the stirring of a crow. Symbolism
[[link removed]] abounds.
As Selena holds Hannah and screams, “Jim, kill him,” Jim hesitates
before raising his bat. At this moment, camouflaged soldiers emerge
from the landscape, shooting the transformed Frank.

Boyle draws a brilliant juxtaposition with Frank and Hannah’s tower
block refuge as Selena, Hannah and Jim are brought to an
isolated stately home
[[link removed]] encircled
by barricades, reinforcing the class distinctions emphasized
throughout the film. The posh facade
[[link removed]] of this newfound sanctuary adorned
with fine art and sculpture laden with symbolic significance, set
alongside stacked boxes of looted home electronics, crumbles away as
the trio observes the conversations and actions of the soldiers.

In a scene anticipating the bedlam to come, the soldiers’ leader and
new lord of this country home
[[link removed]],
Major Henry West (Christopher Eccleston
[[link removed]]), leads Jim
outside through a side door where an infected soldier named Mailer
(Marvin Campbell
[[link removed]]) charges
towards them from behind hanging sheets and is halted just out of
reach by a chain fastened to his neck. West introduces Jim to this
dismal figure, who happens to be a Black person, in a suspiciously
barmy way, “Mailer, Jim; Jim Mailer
[[link removed]].”

Mailer growls and vomits blood as West provides scant information:
“got infected two days ago. Mitchell managed to knock him out cold,
and we got a chain around his neck. Keeping him alive.” His account
echoes the justification previously articulated for the testing done
at the Cambridge lab: “the idea was to learn something about
infection. Have him teach me.”

Jim’s query, “and has he?,” elicits a cheeky response from West
on a staple food associated with human civilization
[[link removed]]:
“he’s telling me that he’ll never bake bread.” The
pseudo-historical commentary West offers is, of course, of the sort he
could have no way of confirming given the short duration of his
experiment. It only serves to further obscure Mailer’s curious
plight.

When considered within the film’s broader storyworld, the scenario
West offers about Mailer’s situation is difficult reconcile with the
previous depictions of frenzied and berserk infected. A more credible
scenario would involve Mailer being first subdued and restrained,
similar to the chimps in the opening scene. Mailer’s life sacrificed
as an intentionally infected human ‘guinea pig,’ plausibly due to
his Blackness, a practice analogous to numerous examples in colonial
history
[[link removed]].
Such a sequence would allow West to gain the information sought more
safely while providing a provocative instance of his treachery.

Viewed from this perspective, Mailer’s presence provides amplified
substance to the authoritarian tendencies West exhibits, while giving
his character an even more potent foreshadowing role. Such behaviors
aren’t confined to West either. Several of the soldiers under his
command display similar propensities towards racism, as well as
misogyny in their interactions with Selena and Hannah. Such treatment
also seems to extend toward the other Black soldier under West’s
command, Private Bell (Ademola Junior Laniyan
[[link removed]]), emphasizing the common
associations between fascism and racial oppression the film
elaborates.

The façade of West’s sanctuary continues to chip away when the
welcoming dinner prepared by Private Jones is spoiled by an omelet
made using bad eggs. As West spits a rancid bite from his mouth, he
asks Hannah if she can cook. Before she can respond, an exploding
mine [[link removed]] signals the
arrival of the infected. This heightens the tension while shifting
focus from the implicit chauvinism that lies beneath West’s
question.

Their deepest fears are realized upon the soldiers’ return from the
defense of the estate after having gleefully shot down numerous
infected. Their celebratory enthusiasm, aroused by the adrenaline rush
of the fight, however, quickly turns to menace. Corporal Mitchell
exclaims, “that was fucking marvelous.” He then approaches Serena,
defensively holding her machete, and says, “oh, hello,” as another
soldier wolf whistles
[[link removed]].

Mitchell’s actions become flagrantly aggressive as he moves closer,
grabbing Selena’s machete, before continuing, “listen sweetheart
[[link removed]],
you ain’t gonna be needing this anymore, eh? Because you got me to
protect you now.” Mitchell’s belligerence grows even more sexually
charged as he advances towards Selena, the others rooting him on, and
says, “you wanna get your hands on a really big chopper...well, you
just come and see me.” Selena’s response, “fuck you!” is taken
as a provocation as he responds, “yeah, well, how about now,”
taking hold of her, threatening sexual violence.

Jim intervenes but Mitchell quickly throws him down with Farrell
ordering Mitchell to stand down before striking him with a club. West
enters the room, his mere presence enough to break up the scuffle,
serving as indication of his unquestioned authority. In a gesture
revealing the conspiratorial nature of their intentions, West turns to
another of the soldiers, Private Clifton, saying softly, “slow
down.”

West orders them to re-secure the perimeter and remove the dead,
before handing Selena the machete and offering Jim a drink. The
looming violence insinuated in this unsettling scene whereby the
soldiers are revealed to be just as dangerous as the infected attunes
Selena, Hannah and Jim to the fact that, no, they are not like them.
And that these regal environs are no place of ‘salvation’, but a
trap now exposed as the site of their greatest peril.

Pouring from a bottle of Scotch appearing to be the same Frank had
previously found [[link removed]] in an
abandoned supermarket during their journey to the blockade, which West
has seemingly taken for himself, he divulges their true intentions:
“I promised them women.” West goes on to justify his deceptive
radio transmission as being done for the greater good of human
survival, “because women mean a future
[[link removed]].” The short duration
of the apocalyptic scenario, however, repudiates any necessity for the
violence his rationalization seeks to excuse, while showing just how
quickly a free society can spiral into fascistic authoritarianism.

Jim rushes upstairs to Selena and Hannah, the urgency palpable as he
frantically exclaims, “we have to go. No time! Come on!” As they
hasten towards the exit Jim is floored by a blow from the butt of an
assault rifle. He collapses, dazed and disoriented, as a cacophony of
quarreling voices amplifies the chaos unfolding around them.

Amidst the turmoil, Farrell, who West previously mocked as their
“new age specialist,” defies the others with a resolute shout,
“No! You’re not going to keep ‘em here! You’ve got to let
‘em go! I’m not gonna let you keep ‘em.” Outnumbered and
surrounded, Farrell’s resistance is short-lived as his fellows
overpower him. West stoops beside the fallen Jim, uttering, “I want
to give you a chance. You can be with us. But I can’t let them
go.” Jim’s firm response, “no!” seals his fate with West
decreeing, “him too.” The taciturn nature of West’s
communications underscores the clandestine decisions made beyond the
awareness of Selena, Jim and Hannah whose perspectives the film
follows.

With Mitchell and Jones guiding Farrell and Jim along a tree-lined
path within the estate’s wooded expanse, the horror of their
situation, as well as that of Selena and Hannah, becomes evident upon
reaching an execution site. The already amassed bodies insinuate prior
executions, giving emphasis to the meaning of West’s veiled command.
Although the identities of the corpses are not revealed, their
presence sparks contemplation about the fates of the compound’s
former inhabitants and other survivors lured by West’s broadcast,
while evoking dreadful associations with totalitarian mass murder.

The film crescendos with a riveting climax set to John Murphy’s
rousing score [[link removed]] that
builds with Jim’s escape during a moment of chaos when Farrell is
killed by the accidental discharge of Jones’ gun. Jim seizes on the
moment of confusion, first hiding amongst the corpses before scaling
the wall as his would-be executioners’ fire blindly into the trees.
Seeing his shirt caught on the concertina razor wire
[[link removed]] strung
over the fence and seemingly defenseless outside the estate’s
protective walls, they leave him for dead.

Not content to escape just with his life, Jim rises to Selena’s
example in confronting West and his men in a breathtaking final
showdown. In the harrowing scenes that follow we watch as a once timid
and scared Jim takes on the role of the slasher
[[link removed]], stalking the soldiers
upon his return to the site of injustice where he settles scores and
exacts retribution.

Failing to disclose Jim’s escape, Mitchell and Jones return to an
escalating situation in which Selena and Hannah are being threatened
with imminent rape. Their coercion into donning the attire of the
mansion’s former owner to make them “more presentable,” in an
attempt to glamorize the heinous deed, creates a particularly
disturbing scene. But just as Selena is caught trying to sneak Hannah
some valium to make her “not care” and all seems lost, Jim
activates a siren at the blockade indicating his presence. Selena’s
utterance, “Jim,” reflects enduring hope amid the bleakest of
circumstances.

Initiating the film’s climax, Jim dispatches one of West’s
soldiers at the blockade who’d accompanied him to investigate,
leaving West alone and without transportation. Now armed with the
soldier’s rifle, Jim makes his way back to the estate and fires a
burst to free Mailer from his captivity. The sound of gunfire,
nervously dismissed as thunder, hints at the escalating anxiety of the
soldiers. Adding to the sense of doom, Hannah begins to taunt her
captors, remarking, “I think they’ve been killed. They’re dead,
and you’re gonna be next.”

Mailer bursts through a window attacking Clifton, immediately
infecting him. The situation descends into chaos with both Mailer and
Clifton rampaging through the house in search of other victims while
Jim searches for Selena. Like the classic slasher, Jim forgoes the use
of the rifle and instead stabs Jones with the bayonet, leaving the gun
behind to continue his mission.

In an example that seems to corroborate the racist origins of
Mailer’s infection, Jim finds Private Bell hiding under a bed
clutching his assault rifle. His terrified plea, “I haven’t got
any fucking bullets,” speaks to his disempowered position amongst
the other soldiers, while providing a plausible explanation for his
noticeably passive and nervous demeanor throughout the mansion scenes.

An increasingly desperate Mitchell drags Selena along with him,
reiterating his vile intentions to keep her as his captive: “It's
just you and me now, darlin
[[link removed]]'...I'm gonna get you out
of here. Then, we're gonna find a nice little fuckin' place
somewhere...and we'll live happily ever after, eh?” Having finally
found them, Jim pounces on Mitchell initiating a brutal fight for
survival. The ferocity Jim displays in his attack on Mitchell teases
ironically at the primal nature of “rage” as an instinctual or
innate aggressive drive
[[link removed]] that
serves as the catalyst of the film.

Throughout the mansion scenes, it is Mitchell who distinguishes
himself from his fellow soldiers through displays of aggression and
violence that border on sociopathy, giving substance to his role as
West’s primary enforcer and executioner. Thus, in order to vanquish
Mitchell, Jim must rise to his level of violence. This is precisely
what we see in this final scene of brutal combat.

With Selena looking on not knowing whether Jim is infected or not, he
bashes Mitchell’s head against the wall and then gouges out his eyes
in frenzied burst of aggression that represents an enflamed display of
pent-up rage melded with an intense display of care and romantic love.
As is clear by the end of the scene when Jim and Selena share a
relieved embrace, Jim’s violence was of a different sort. Not roused
by the animosities and egomaniacal fervors reflective of sexual
aggression, toxic masculinity or an attraction to authoritarian power,
but raised out of desperate necessity and in defense of Selena and
Hannah.

Major West reappears as Selena, Hannah and Jim flee an estate reduced
to a house of horrors to make their escape in Frank’s cab. As Jim
opens the door the camera cuts to West sitting in the back seat
grasping his rifle. He somberly exclaims, “you killed all my boys
[[link removed]],” before pulling the
trigger on Jim. Hannah, now behind the wheel, exacts her own just
retribution. She throws the car into reverse, ignoring the appeals of
West, and backs it into the front door of the house. West is pulled
from the car and through the back window by his own infected soldiers
in a befitting welcoming back into their fold.

As with many narratives of disaster and apocalypse, the film ends with
a scene of improbable hope. Perhaps this is just the kind of ending we
still secretly prefer as it allows us to continue to turn our heads
from the looming consequences of a future we are all complicit in. But
in a broader sense, _28 Days Later _is also a reminder that while
humans have long demonstrated a willingness and special proficiency in
demonizing one’s enemies and making others into animals or monsters,
such tactics are always acts of mere projection. True horror, as Danny
Boyle and Alex Garland reveal to us, is precisely the vision we see
through Clifton’s infected gaze into the mirror that Hannah had
hidden herself behind. That the monstrous is not that which lies
outside ourselves or even in those we may attempt to demonize as
other; the monster is us.

The opinions expressed here are solely the author's and do not reflect
the opinions or beliefs of the Hollywood Progressive. _BILLY J.
STRATTON is originally from Eastern Kentucky, the son of a coal
miner. He earned a PhD in American Indian Studies from the University
of Arizona and currently teaches contemporary Native American/American
literature, film, and critical theory in the Department of English and
Literary Arts at the University of Denver._

 

* Film
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* Zombie Genre
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* Danny Boyle
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* Oppenheimer
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* Billy J. Stratton
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* Cillian Murphy
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* 28 Days Later
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