A few days ago, one of those question-meme things was circling the various social media sewers, saying: “What 5 topics can you talk about unprepared for 5 minutes.”
My answers were:
“Why it was a mistake to break up Xander and Anya in Season Six of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and how it was the first real concrete hint of who Joss Whedon truly was as a person.”
“Understanding what is needed to make a good Predator movie.” Which is a topic that I’ve already talked about here.
“The long and convoluted histories of various Marvel and DC comic book characters.” Which is also something I do regularly. Very very regularly.
“Favorite sandwiches I’ve had.”
And finally… “Why 28 Days Later isn’t a zombie movie.”
Then, because our phones spy on us every single moment of every single day, the picture I posted above popped up on my timeline, reading: “Zombie Sequel ‘28 Years Later’ Lands at Sony.” Which, y’know… good for them, I’m interested in seeing it, but as implied above, there’s just one problem, 28 Years Later can’t be considered to be a zombie sequel, and the reason why is simple…
The films of the 28 Days franchise have no zombies in them.
After a group of animal rights activists break into a research lab, and free a caged chimp that turned out to be infected with a highly contagious rage-inducing virus, it unleashes a vicious plague that burns through the populace of England like a wild fire.
Fade to black, and the credits read: 28 Days Later…
A London bike courier named Jim wakes up from a coma and finds himself in a wrecked and seemingly deserted London. Seemingly… until the Infected find him. Blinded by rage, they chase him across the city, and it’s only a chance encounter with Naomi, a fellow survivor, that he is able to survive his first day.
TANGENT: You may notice that the beginning of 28 Days Later is the same as the beginning of the comic book series and TV show called The Walking Dead, by Robert Kirkman, the “weirdly often involved in lawsuits due to some very questionable work-related issues” creator. That’s because Kirkman yoinked the idea upon seeing the film, which came out a full year before the first issue of The Walking Dead, and to this day, he is still trying to pretend like it was a coincidence.
I mean… come on, Rob.
Anyway, soon enough, Jim and Naomi meet a former cab driver named Frank, and his daughter Hannah, and the small group embarks on a perilous journey across England to what they hope will be safety. Unfortunately, all that seems to await them is more destruction, more Infected, and a group of soldiers who have chosen a country estate for their Alamo, slowly but surely cracking under the strain of holding out against the unrelenting rage of the Infected.
Written by the Oscar nominated writer, Alex Garland, and directed by the Oscar nominated director, Danny Boyle, with Oscar nominated actors Cillian Murphy and Brendan Gleeson, as well as some not-as-recognized talents like Naomie Harris and Christopher Eccleston, it was a respectable “zombie” movie, almost considered to be art by the film snobs. Almost. Not quite. But almost.
Also, there are no zombies in it.
Set during the first 28 days, the sequel begins with a man named Don, his wife Alice, and four others, hiding in a cottage outside of London. When a terrified boy appears on their doorstep, Don lets him in, realizing too late that the Infected have followed him. In the chaos of the Infected’s attack, Don tries to get Alice to abandon the boy and run with him, but she refuses, thinking of their own children—who are visiting some family overseas—so Don escapes alone, while Alice, the boy, and the rest of the survivors are presumably killed.
Fade to black, and the credits read: 28 Weeks Later…
Six months after the original outbreak, the Rage Virus has all but wiped out everyone who was trapped within the quarantine of the British Isles, and all of the Infected who were contained within have died either due to injuries, or by starvation. At the head of a UN/WHO effort, the U.S. Army arrives—including the handsome Brigadier General Stone, Chief Medical Officer Major Scarlet Levy, and Delta sniper Sergeant Doyle—declaring that the danger is now over, and setting-up an outpost on the Isle of Dogs in London, to begin the process of restoring order and reconstruction.
Because of this effort, English citizens have slowly started returning to British soil. Don is now in charge of the refugee facilities on the Isle of Dogs, and arriving with the latest refugee group are his children, big sister Tammy and little brother Andy. The kids naturally have questions about their Mom, but Don is evasive, so Tammy and Andy sneak out of quarantine, and into the seemingly empty and abandoned city of London, going to the home they last saw over six months ago.
What they find there sets off a chain of events all rooted in a simple truth… The virus is not gone, and it is even more dangerous than before.
Headed up by a less impressive director this time, and written by a gaggle of less impressive writers, this is where the franchise started leaning harder into its schlocky roots, but was still kind of respectable, starring Jeremy Renner as Doyle, Robert Carlyle as Don, Rose Byrne as Scarlet, Idris Elba as Stone, and Imogen Poots as Tammy, someone I think would be a much bigger star if her name wasn’t Imogen Poots.
Ima Poots. IMA POOTS!
But once again, one thing you won’t find in this movie? Zombies.
These movies are outbreak movies, sure. They’re post-apocalyptic survival horror, definitely. But while they may share some of the same tropes as zombie movies, they still aren’t zombie movies. So that’s the question, right? Because they sure seem like zombie movies, right? So why aren’t they zombie movies?
Like I said: No zombies.
There’s two distinct types of zombies in Western Cinema. There’s Voodoo Zombies, obviously. Voodoo zombies movies have their own specific rules that are supposedly rooted in the religious practices of Afro-Caribbean communities, rules I’d be willing to bet are super problematic, not to mention probably more than a bit racist, but more importantly, for what we’re talking about here, they’re rules that we’re not concerned with, because if the 28 Days movies were zombie films… which they aren’t… but if they were, they certainly wouldn’t be Voodoo Zombie movies.
The other type of zombie, for lack of a better term, we’re going to call Romero Rules Zombies. Night of the Living Dead was released in 1968, directed by George Romero, and written by George Romero and John Russo, and while the flesh-eating monsters in that film are mostly called ghouls, it is considered to be the first real appearance of the modern zombie in pop culture, with the ideas/feelings/tropes of the Post-apocalyptic zombie story entering the pop culture lexicon in earnest with the release of the film’s sequel Dawn of the Dead in 1978.
In essence, these films set the standard in pop culture for what we’re calling Romero Rules Zombies in pop culture, which are inarguably the most popular kind of zombie between the two mentioned types, and those standards have been basically adhered to throughout the genre ever since then.
It’s called precedent, people, look it up.
So, when it comes to the Romero Rules Zombies, whether the zombies are fast or slow, smart or dumb, funny or scary, there’s one constant rule, and that is that they are all the recently reanimated dead. This is a core rule that defines the entire genre. They might die from the virus itself, or from the injuries sustained during infection, but in a Romero Rules Zombie story, when a person dies, they get up and kill. The people they kill, get up and kill!
Additionally, as I previously mentioned, if the 28 Days movies were zombie movies… which they aren’t… but if they were, then they wouldn’t be Voodoo Zombies, they’d be Romero Rules Zombies. The reason they aren’t Romero Rules Zombies is because they don’t adhere to the core defining rule of the genre, due to one thing clearly shown in both 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks Later…
The Infected aren’t dead.
The Infected are infected by direct fluidic contact, yes, but they don’t then die and reanimate. They’re still alive. Also, they exist only to attack, and in doing so, further spread the virus. They don’t feed. If they’re shot anywhere, or fall, or cut themselves, they could bleed to death, or die from the injury, or even from the potentially resulting gangrene. Unlike Romero Rules Zombies, the Infected don’t rot as time goes on, they grow more and more emaciated, and eventually, they starve to death, and when they die, they don’t reanimate to kill again. This is because all of the “zombies” you see in the 28 Days Later films are nothing than living people who are infected with a virus.
In short, they’re just people who should have worn PPE…
So, in the simplest terms, if the Infected in the 28 Days movies are still alive, and didn’t die, to then be reanimated, then they aren’t Romero Rules Zombies, and that means, much like other films… like, for instance, Driving Miss Daisy, or Green Book, or Steel Magnolias, or even Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk, the films of the 28 Days franchise aren’t zombie movies for the simple fact that there are no zombies in them.
I know, I know… who really gives a fuck?
Fine. Okay, admittedly, this is only an academic distinction at best, something that only weirdos and obsessives like myself might truly care about. I’ll admit that, fine, but… if that’s not also you, then why the hell else are you here? Either way, I’m right. This is all right and true.
In the end, all I’m saying here is… Know your enemy!
These people are dead, and yet… they walk! They feed!
These people are infected! Infected with… RAGE!
Understanding this difference, and what it means, should you find yourself in a suddenly relevant apocalypse, will dictate the correct course of action to take, which could mean the difference between life and death, people!
Also, seriously, avoid infection, wear a mask while indoors, or in crowded spaces, you god damn dummies.
Fundamentally it matters because they would die of dehydration well before they’d die of hunger. But regardless, non-expiring zombies are a different threat than plague victims whose batteries run out. But also! If they aren’t dead, is it established that they’re incurable? That implies a different moral imperative.