In 2025, horror movies didn't just terrify—they revolutionized how we think about fear itself.
Before we dive in, fair warning: this piece is packed with major spoilers for Weapons and 28 Years Later. If you haven't seen them yet, you might want to bookmark this and come back after.
What a chilling year 2025 turned out to be for horror fans! The genre exploded with creativity and cash, raking in rave reviews and box office gold. Hits like The Conjuring: Last Rites, Sinners, and Final Destination: Bloodlines dominated theaters, with Sinners earning near-universal acclaim as one of the year's standout films across the board. But beyond the scares, these movies pioneered fresh, spine-tingling characters that pushed boundaries, leaving audiences both horrified and enlightened.
Yes, I realize 'enlightened' sounds vague when we're talking about slashers and zombies, so let me zoom in on the duo that truly redefined horror for the better. On one side, there's Aunt Gladys Lily from Weapons, brilliantly brought to life by the mesmerizing Amy Madigan—who deserves every Oscar nod coming her way for this performance (check out the buzz here: https://www.slashfilm.com/1936968/weapons-best-performance-amy-madigan-deserves-oscar-nomination/). On the other, we have the weary yet compassionate Dr. Ian Kelson from Danny Boyle's eagerly awaited sequel 28 Years Later, masterfully portrayed by Ralph Fiennes, whose past nods could easily turn into a win if the Academy ever embraced horror's depth. If you've caught both films like I did, you might be scratching your head at grouping these two together.
Traditional horror villains often come off as predictable and flat, but Gladys and Kelson capture the essence of their worlds in ways that feel groundbreaking. Gladys embodies pure, unbridled chaos and malevolence, while Kelson clings to reason and compassion in a bid to endure utter despair. (His quirky habits might raise eyebrows, but bear with me—I'll break it down soon.) Together, these polar opposites have reshaped what horror can be in 2025.
But here's where it gets controversial: are these characters heroes in disguise, or just new flavors of nightmare fuel?
Sony Pictures Releasing
Gladys and Dr. Ian Kelson are worlds apart in Weapons and 28 Years Later.
We catch fleeting glimpses of Gladys early in Weapons—lurking in the background during scenes with her 'nephew' Alex Lily (played by Cary Christopher), the sole survivor from his school's vanished class, and haunting the dreams of Alex's teacher Justine Gandy (Julia Garner) and classmate's dad Archer Graff (Josh Brolin). When we finally meet her face-to-face, she comes across as oddly charming, if a bit off. Sure, her makeup's outlandish, her wig's a disaster, and she speaks with the innocence of a child trapped in an adult's frame, but at first, she just seems eccentric. Oh, how wrong we are! Gladys is a sinister, possibly immortal witch who drains people as batteries, transforming them into mindless zombies under her control. (The 'possibly immortal' hint drops when she brushes off Alex's parents' zombification as a mere 'touch of consumption.') By the film's climax, we root for the 17 kidnapped kids from Alex's class as they rip her apart—her evil is that palpable.
In stark contrast, Dr. Ian Kelson first appears utterly deranged in 28 Years Later. He's smeared in filth—likely zombie blood given the film's ravaged, undead apocalypse—and saves our protagonists, young Spike (Alfie Williams) and his mom Isla (Jodie Comer), from a horde of the infected. His habit of bleaching skulls and building a shrine from them is bizarre, yet as he unpacks 'memento mori'—a Latin phrase meaning 'remember that you will die,' urging us to contemplate mortality and live fully—you grasp his quest for sanity amid destruction. He's searching for empathy in a shattered reality.
And this is the part most people miss: how these two embody the extremes of human response to horror.
Warner Bros.
The divide between Gladys and Kelson highlights horror's dual paths.
One will live on: Dr. Ian Kelson returns in 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple next year (see the divided reactions here: https://www.slashfilm.com/1889785/28-years-later-ending-audiences-divided/), and Gladys might too if director Zach Cregger pursues a prequel exploring her origins (more on that idea here: https://www.slashfilm.com/1939457/weapons-best-character-prequel-aunt-gladys-good-idea/). Even from these standalone stories, they innovate terror in profound ways.
Gladys thrives on disorder, desperately clinging to youth or life by siphoning energy from unsuspecting victims. Kelson, however, operates with intent—honoring the deceased and forging survival through gentleness. He extends empathy where Gladys manipulates and dominates. Consider how each interacts with the young boys thrust into their orbits. Gladys exploits Alex for her schemes, nearly costing him his life. Kelson, learning of Isla's incurable cancer, aids her in passing with grace and tends to Spike with remarkable tenderness afterward, instilling hope in the desolate landscape.
Gladys engineers an almost unbearable existence, while Kelson navigates a truly unbearable one with resilience. Both illustrate the slippery slope into darkness: Gladys embraces it, pulling others in, whereas Kelson defies the cruelty around him. These figures have cemented their place in horror lore, representing opposing forces that complete the genre's spectrum. Weapons and 28 Years Later aren't merely gripping scares—they're showcases for these legendary archetypes.
Now, here's a thought-provoking twist to chew on: Could Kelson's 'kindness' actually be a coping mechanism for madness in a doomed world? Or is Gladys's evil simply the flip side of survival at any cost? What do you think—do these characters redeem horror, or do they prove it's inherently flawed? Drop your takes in the comments; I'd love to hear if you agree, disagree, or see a counterpoint I missed!
