28 Years Later: The Bone Temple Review

The long-awaited sequel 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple premieres in theaters on January 16, delivering a gruesome and fabulously shot new chapter of the franchise. Directed by Nia DaCosta, the film picks up immediately where its predecessor left off, offering a story that is visually, thematically, and tonally distinct from previous installments.

While one viewer at a recent screening declared it the worst movie of the year, the film stands as a surprisingly funny and exceptionally brutal entry. It explores themes beyond the typical zombie narrative, focusing on the potential for humanity to become monstrous in its own right.

The choice to hand directing duties to Nia DaCosta proves crucial for this installment. With a background in horror including Candyman and the unconventionally violent Hedda, DaCosta is assembling a diverse and forceful body of work. Her films feature no pulled punches, and The Bone Temple is certainly no exception.

It is easily the most gruesome of the 28... Later films, which is not a low bar to clear. The film employs a darkly comedic sense of timing, creating a gross-funny vibe that reaches a level of absurdity absolutely necessary for the film to work. This allows the serious satirical aspect of zombies to have an opposite number in dark humor.

"There is part of me that can imagine screenwriter Alex Garland just scripting way too much for 28 Years Later."

Creators Alex Garland and Danny Boyle made well-reasoned, logical choices in expanding this universe. The film features psychotic acrobat zombie killers fashioned after a national treasure who was secretly a sex criminal, pitted against an iodine-coated doctor who made an entire temple out of bones.

Jack O'Connell is magnificent as cult leader Jimmy Crystal, a role for which he is now in danger of being typecast. His performance and the theme his character represents work hand in hand better than any seen lately. The followers, known as The Fingers, form the fist of his followers and are every bit as infected and mindless as the zombies themselves.

Ralph Fiennes plays Dr. Kelson, described as kind, gentle, wise, and willing to listen. There is a pathos and depth to him communicated simply and truthfully, such as the slump of his shoulders as he sits looking at a river. Every time he is funny, he is hilarious; every time he is sad, he is unbearably tragic.

The film also features Chi Lewis-Parry returning as the Alpha infected, Samson. He does incredible work, going from the rage-fueled heavy of the previous film to a much subtler, engaging take on an evolving zombie. He is more than just a canvas for Dr. Kelson's charismatic empathy, with a real story told from both sides of their relationship.

The film is concerned with something else entirely, having different aims visually, thematically, and tonally. It picks up where last year's long-range sequel installment left off, possibly minutes later, yet the films deserve to be their own stories. The narrative explores the idea that the point of the monsters is to mirror the potential for us to become monsters.

One especially gnarly scene involves the roving band known as the Jimmys taking their version of satanic "charity" to an extreme. This violence is committed not against an infected, but against their fellow man, making it the hardest to watch of the franchise. This thematic choice highlights the film's focus on human monstrosity.

"Part of the point of the monsters is to mirror the potential for us to become monsters."

The creators have used a light touch with the world-building, making well-reasoned choices at every juncture. There is a scary amount of freedom sitting down to a blank page with these movies, and anything could have happened in 28 years in this world.

Visually, the film is a standout. The cinematography is described as fabulously shot, contributing to the overall gruesome atmosphere. The dark humor is pitch perfect, providing a necessary distance to see the thematic forest for the trees. The absurdity of the premise is embraced fully.

The film connects the image of Jimmy Savile—sprung on viewers in the closing minutes of the first film—to the villainy of O'Connell's character, making the choice downright brilliant. It is a wild and unexpected place to take the franchise, fascinating to watch the creators pull on interesting threads.

• Gruesome and fabulously shot visuals
• Darkly comedic timing and absurdity
• Thematic focus on human monstrosity
• Unexpected narrative twists

The relationship between Dr. Kelson and Samson is often wordless, yet effectively told. It represents a significant thematic win for the film, exploring the mirror between human and monster.

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple is not the worst movie of the year; it is a forceful, funny, and frightening addition to the franchise. With masterful direction from Nia DaCosta and standout performances from Jack O'Connell and Ralph Fiennes, the film pushes the boundaries of the series.

The blend of extreme violence, dark satire, and genuine pathos creates a unique cinematic experience. The film proves that the franchise still has interesting threads to pull and new horrors to explore, both from the infected and from humanity itself.