28 Years Later: The Bone Temple Review: I Expected A Horror Sequel, But This Is Something Else Entirely

The post-apocalypse that Danny Boyle and Alex Garland created for 28 Days Later helped shatter genre expectations, with the Rage virus helping breathing erratic new life into the threat of a zombified population. With 28 Years Later, the same duo transcended traditional horror sequels with the introductions of Spike, Dr. Ian Kelson, and the Jimmy cult. Now, with The Bone Temple, Candyman and Hedda helmer Nia DaCosta has taken this already unpredictable franchise into entirely unexpected territories, and I was entranced every single minute watching it.

Unlike its predecessor, which kicks off in an entirely new-to-viewers environment, 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple quickly forces audiences right back into facing harrowing plot finding Alfie Williams’ Spike being taken in by Jack O’Connell’s Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal. It’s almost too easy to put oneself in Spike’s metaphorical shoes as he’s thrown into one potentially deadly situation after another, given how frighteningly barmy and unyielding the group’s leader can be as he continues a reign of terror. Or "charity," as he puts it.

Gone are the majority of the main characters that filled out the bulk of 28 Years Later, from Jodie Comer’s Isla (obviously) and Aaron Taylor-Johnson’s Jamie to everyone else in the island haven’s group. Returning, however, are Ralph Fiennes’ iodine-covered Dr. Kelson and Chi Lewis-Parry’s hulking infected alpha Samson. Not to mention Samson’s dangly bits, and those of several other clothing-lite members of the infected. (Spoilers: another non-infected character is also treated with a full-frontal shot this time around.)

As indicated in the previous film’s ending, though, this world has gone to the Jimmys, and no one is guaranteed a safe journey to tomorrow. Thankfully, theater-goers don’t have the same problems, even if the Jimmys’ actions are so palpably harrowing that I’m going to instinctively shift into a defensive stance the next time I see someone donning a tracksuit and a swath of gold chains.

Nia DaCosta and Alex Garland know we're familiar with this world's horrors, and they successfully shift the focus accordingly.

The number of horror sequels that essentially copy/paste formulas and storylines from franchise flagships is astoundingly high, and that approach almost never makes for a better (or even equally enjoyable) experience. Still, I'd have been totally understanding if DaCosta and Garland had stuck with the familiar for The Bone Temple given how much worldbuilding went into 28 Years Later itself. Instead, they deliver a wholly new chapter where even the most familiar characters and elements are sent in new directions.

Remember how awesome it was to see the infected tearing ass across London for the first time, or seeing Samson tear off and rip an enemy's spine out of its body? Those visceral elements still have a minimal presence but more as connective tissue for the next big thing and to draw a starker distinction between "then" and "now."

The Spike that won audiences over with his bravery and keen instincts in the first film is a defeated shadow now, cowering beneath the blonde wig he's forced to wear. Perhaps drawing inspiration from The Empire Strikes Back, we're seeing the protagonist at his lowest point yet, barely able to defend himself against the older cult members. Though not necessarily fun to watch, it's still a vital means to evolve the narrative and hero's journey, and the same holds true for Dr. Kelson. But before we dig into his arc, Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal demands some attention.

I love hating the Jimmy cult, and Jack O'Connell's Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal is now an all-time horror villain.

Between on-screen appearances as the charismatically chaotic cult leader obsessed with DJ and notorious sexual abuser Jimmy Saville, Jack O'Connell was found stealing scenes last summer as the chilling bloodsucker Remmick in Ryan Coogler's Sinners. Impressively, none of that character's quiet menace is present in Sir Lord Jimmy, a malicious and narcissistic conman whose outspoken extroversion belies his ignorance. Each time Jimmy speaks, it’s as if he’s envisioning himself in his own true crime dramatization, and it’s a guilt-free blast to funnel hate at this obnoxious fuck throughout the movie.

From the earliest scenes where he viciously tests Spike’s willingness to join the group, to later machinations that remind us how human this cult of personality is, Sir Lord Jimmy is an all-timer of a movie villain, regardless of genre. He’s highly quotable, complete with group call-and-response that’s utilized throughout, and just when you think his limit of ruthlessness has been met, Jimmy pushes those goalposts back, most often with disembodied limbs. To say the upside-down cross comes into play is to say the sun is warm.

It helps that the irredeemable leader manifestly stands out from his tribe of misfit youths hardened by trauma and suppression. Forming an early bond with Spike, Jimmy Ink (Erin Kellyman) is arguably the brainiest, though with scars and ideas that speak to how low the intelligence bar is. Emma Laird’s Jimmima is perhaps the most wounded, which in turn makes her the most performative, particularly with Teletubbies-inspired dances.

Because discovering reasons to hate everyone is part of the fun, suffice to say that Jimmy Fox (Sam Locke), Jimmy Snake (Ghazi Al Ruffai) and Jimmy Jones (Maura Bird) each fall across different spots on the feral villain spectrum, and there’s little empathy shed when certain bodies drop. That empathy is saved for characters who unfortunately find themself in Sir Lord Jimmy’s crosshairs.

Ralph Fiennes Dr. Kelson takes the story into hallucinatory and unexpected directions that make future sequels all the more welcome.

If Spike's story equates to a trafficking thriller, and Sir Lord Jimmy culminates the nihilistic anarchy of The Purge, then Dr. Kelson's arc is kinda-maybe most like Oliver Stone's The Doors through the prism of Wayne's World 2's Doors-spoofing scenes. Or, to bring it back to Danny Boyle, it's as if Nia DaCosta brought Ralph Fiennes' bone-collecting medicine man through the gauzy haze of Trainspotting, but with a grander purpose than just getting high with the boys.

Kelson continues his mission to manufacture some kind of measurable bond with the predatory Samson in order to suss out remnants of humanity, all while being largely unable to reflect upon his own pre-virus years. Despite his implausible goals, Kelson finds reason to continue (beyond just staying alive long enough to do so), and therein lie several intriguing threads for the franchise's future.

Fiennes is incredible from start to finish, brandishing the same eerie and enigmatic behavior that made his character such a high point in last year's film, and this time with more of a near-childlike enthusiasm for interacting with others. (Even those who do not wish Kelson well.) I've already earmarked one third-act sequence that shall not be spoiled for best-of-the-year consideration. If that sequence alone doesn't earn Fiennes some kind of award nomination, my innate lower-case rage will know no bounds.

Had all 108 minutes of 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple been set just around Kelson's giant skull pile, my rating might not have even changed. Thankfully, though, Nia DaCosta wasn't inclined to be so limited, and instead delivers a tense, emotional and darkly hilarious movie that also happens to feature a swinging bloody dong and people being skinned alive. I'd stand up and cheer if I wasn't scared to draw out any nearby infected.

P.S. Cillian Murphy. That's the post-script.