One of the most anticipated films of the year, there will be few sequels any time soon that feel as fresh, captivating and downright weird as 28 Years Later. Danny Boyle's return to the post-apocalypse sees a father and son venture onto the infested mainland to find a world much-changed and full of surprises.

After a frenetic opening featuring Teletubbies, the infected and Scottish children, 28 Years Later jumps to the Britain it actually inhabits. And Boyle and writer Alex Garland have taken this series and shaped it into something as interesting as the original. Whereas 28 Days Later was a mostly frenetic chase across a Britain tearing itself apart, with an all-timer opening segment, Years is a slower beast, allowing emotive beats to seep in amongst the infected (don't call them zombies) action. And what glorious action it is, with some of the best horror sequences of the year, dominated by the presence of Alphas (big boy infected).

There's a rich ensemble here. Jodie Comer has a tricksy task in balancing Isla's predicament, while Aaron Taylor-Johnson wonderfully plays his character as a loving father who you suspect may be a bit of a wrong 'un. Ralph Fiennes makes much of his third act appearance, bringing a humanity to the hell of it all. And you're likely to be left talking about Jack O'Connell's turn long after the credits. But so much of this film's power rests on the shoulders of Alfie Williams, a relative newcommer who brings warmth and acting prowess beyond his years as Spike. His is the name you should remember going forward.

This is not the film you expect, both as a sequel to 28 Days Later and as it has been marketed. It really feels closer to a follow-up to Boyle's own opening ceremony for the 2012 Olympics. Something has soured for Boyle, almost as if the sheer weight of the last decade (Covid, Brexit, Tory misrule) on Britain has broken us. In particular, this is a film that feels like it is presenting our loss of a shared narrative. One of the elements that may frustrate viewers is the rather disjointed plotting and tone here (right down to a gonzo final five minutes). But in its own way this feels purposeful, with each character's story being a different one. Some articulate it as a lie, others find themselves incapable of speaking it through illness, while some find a truth, no matter how dark and repugnant it may seem.

Danny Boyle is a true auteur with a career that has surged from early provocation in his Scottish-set thrillers to Oscar-winning hope to this place of loss and darkness. 28 Years Later's reference points are older then one might expect, drawing off of late 60s to early 80s British cinema. This is a work infused with folk horror of the era as well as the doomsy vibes of post-war sci-fi. And the final moments feel like they are reaching for something of A Clockwork Orange. It's not the only recent work to have this distinctly British reference points and this would work as a fascinating companion for Atomfall.

It's best to leave 28 Years Later with a brief wallow in the technical craft here. The design is exemplary, both in the physical, tactile world crafted and in the practical effects bringing the infected to (un)life. Young Fathers' score haunts, marrying with the beauty captured by Anthony Dod Mantle's wonderful camera work, with the end of the world never looking so captivating. And it's all pieced together with a confidence by editor Jon Harris.

You'll have not seen anything quite like 28 Years Later. For some it'll be too unforgiving a brew, too far removed from what they want. But if you stick with it, you'll get what is certainly one of the most interesting, and may well end up being one of the year's best films. This is Boyle and Garland's show, and they take with it some of the biggest and most glorious cinematic swings. And I am all the happier for them to return to this.