Written by Alex Garland, the story literally leapfrogs ’28 Years Later’ wherein the setting is now Holy Island, a sort of a tidal island locked away from the mainland of Great Britain. The updates are in place – the continental Europe is eradicated of the rage virus, while Great Britain and Ireland continue to be isolated indefinitely. It is here that you are introduced to Spike (Alfie Williams) who is on the verge of initiating a ritual, much like the elders of the isolated community that he is a part of. His father Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johns) is on the verge of taking him on a scavenging trip to the mainland, in order to train him in hunting the infected folks with an intention of keeping the island safe for the future generation too. Hence in many ways, the drama here can also be termed as a coming of age drama for Spike who readily goes on a hunting field-trip while leaving behind his ailing mother Isla (Jodie Comer) at home.

The drama delves into dynamics of duality, one involving the synergy between Spike and his father Jamie, and the other being the reintroduction of the personnel infected between the rage virus. And in the same breath, there are images of the British war that are momentarily intercut, or alternately used as a filler, almost as a reminder signalling that the war with the virus is far from over. Here you are witness to Spike and Jamie sharing a resounding bond, even as the later helps him with his first kill, whilst the infected people now fall under three categories – obese folks often seen crawling on the ground, naked folks of a slim framework running helter-skelter for their prey, and the newly mutated virus in the form of an Alpha (symbolizing the alpha male issue of aggression), that makes the infected humans faster and more intellectual while hunting their prey.

Oddly and dare I admit refreshingly, the drama often uses the familiar tropes of the zombie genre – the zombie attack, by playing out the sequences in the background and as fillers. And I say this refreshingly, because the focus then remains on the emotional core of the drama which then takes centerstage. Interestingly, the early portions of a zombie attack – including Spike and Jamie’s assylum at an abandoned cottage, or their quick escape through the rising high tides is backed by an ominous setting of grey and a colour palate that prepares the viewers of a tragedy (one that doesn’t occur immediately but at a later stage in the film). The setting is also reflective of the soon-to-follow thorny father-son bond in the drama. This, while the father-son dynamics that soon transforms into a searing mother-son bond, thereby forming the foundation of an emotional core for the rest of the drama.

Here again, notice the change in the surroundings from a greyish colour palate, to something lush green that immediately stands out while representing the unfiltered bond that Spike shares with his mother Isla. This, even as the former is determined to find a cure for the latter! The events of the film aren’t necessarily supposed to work on paper – it almost is a deconstruction of the zombie genre that no one saw coming through the trailer of the film. And yet, the sincerity of the vision is always there – even as the foundation of the drama ventures in the Wizard of Oz zone, even as the duo stumble on a few folks along the way. They include a Swedish NATO member Erik (Edvin Ryding) who symbolizing the British-Sweden war conflict of the 1800s, a pregnant ‘injected’ woman who is helped by the duo in delivering a baby just before tragedy ensues, and a mysterious figure in the form of a Shaman Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) who doubles up as a doctor.

In a beautiful scene, you see Kelson imparting the philosophies of life to Spike with that one moment of truth which is to ‘Remember that there will always be death (whereever there is life)’. There is an understated meditative zone that Spike is about to embark, a plot-point that had no business to be in a zombie film, but oddly enough, it works like a dream! The emotional bond between a mother and her child is beautifully summed up by Kelson on seeing the young ‘uninfected’ baby labelling the event as ‘the magic of placenta’.

And in the same breath, the concept extends to the dynamics that Spike and his ailing mother share, a bond that is laced with love and tragedy. And I never thought that a zombie film (after Train To Busan (2016)), will have me weeping like a little child. And yet, this reboot in the form of the setup is so intriguing that it creates a world that is far different from the militarized zone of 28 Weeks Later (2007), and the cluttered urban setting of 28 Days Later (2002). The world is gory, visceral and almost unforgiving but also deeply trenched in tragedy, even as a late setup ties the events of the start of the film to a character that appears at the end. All of it, while two more films of this ‘new’ trilogy’ are expected to be made. I know I will be seated, even as the screenplay here remains a besutiful anti-thesis of the genre that has been bastardized over the years.