28 Years Later: The Bone Temple Review: A Strange Zombie Movie Misfire
28 Years Later: The Bone Temple is a strange, uneasy, and often frustrating entry in one of modern horror’s most influential franchises. Directed by Nia DaCosta and written by Alex Garland, the film is accomplished and often bold, but it’s also deeply tonally confused, caught between brutal exploitation horror, bleak post-apocalyptic drama, and dark comedy in ways that never fully cohere. For a series that once felt razor-sharp in its thematic focus and emotional urgency, The Bone Temple feels adrift.
Set after the events of 28 Years Later (2025), the film splits its attention between two largely disconnected storylines. On one side, Spike (Alfie Williams), a teenager previously positioned as the emotional core of the franchise’s future, is forcibly inducted into “the Jimmys,” an acrobatic, cult-like gang led by the unhinged Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell). On the other, Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), a former GP, devotes his life to memorializing the victims of the Rage Virus while pursuing a potential cure that could reshape humanity’s fate.
The film’s first hour is by far its most difficult stretch, and not always for the right reasons. Much of the cult-focused material veers uncomfortably close to torture porn. The Jimmys commit horrifying acts of violence against innocent people, including scenes of skinning victims alive that are staged with lingering, graphic detail. These sequences are relentless, cruel, and deeply upsetting, and DaCosta shoots them with a stark, unflinching eye. In isolation, this might be defensible as an exploration of humanity’s moral collapse in the absence of civilization. But the film undercuts itself by repeatedly underlining these moments with humor.
There are lines of dialogue and moments where we go to the other subplot that are clearly meant to be funny. The audience is invited to laugh mere moments after witnessing unspeakable brutality. That tonal whiplash is jarring, and unlike the gallows humor occasionally found in the earlier 28 films, it never feels purposeful. Instead, it creates a sense that The Bone Temple is unsure of what kind of horror film it wants to be — or whether it even wants to be a horror film at all.
This confusion extends to the film’s second storyline. Ralph Fiennes delivers a characteristically committed performance as Dr. Kelson, bringing gravity and weariness to a man crushed by guilt and obsession. His quest for a cure introduces big ideas about memory, legacy, and whether humanity deserves salvation. Yet this storyline, too, is tonally unstable. It oscillates between moments of dry, almost absurd humor and long stretches of inertia where the narrative simply stalls. What should feel like a ticking-clock race against extinction instead often feels meandering and oddly low-stakes.
Perhaps the most surprising and disappointing element of The Bone Temple is how marginal the Rage-infected themselves are. Zombies have always been more than just monsters in this franchise; they were embodiments of speed, panic, and societal collapse. In 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks Later, the infected were an omnipresent threat, shaping every decision and relationship. Here, they barely register. There are a handful of encounters and a few jump scares clearly designed to satisfy genre expectations, but for the most part, the zombies function as background texture rather than a driving force. The apocalypse is a setting, not a catalyst.
Instead, the film’s primary antagonists are the Jimmys, and while Jack O’Connell is undeniably compelling, his character feels frustratingly thin. O’Connell excels at playing volatile, cruel men, much as he did in Sinners, and Sir Jimmy Crystal is frequently terrifying on a surface level. But there’s little insight into why this cult exists or what truly motivates its leader beyond generic sadism. Not every villain needs a detailed backstory, but some internal logic is necessary to make their actions feel meaningful. Here, the cruelty often feels arbitrary, making it harder to engage with the film beyond sheer endurance.
That issue is compounded by how the film sidelines its most interesting character. Spike was arguably the heart of 28 Years Later, a young person navigating a ruined world with fear, curiosity, and moral uncertainty. In The Bone Temple, he should be the clear protagonist: a kid trapped in a murderous cult, desperate to escape. Instead, he’s reduced to a supporting role, appearing intermittently and rarely driving the story forward. The film seems far more interested in the intellectual musings of Dr. Kelson and the performative madness of Sir Jimmy than in Spike’s internal struggle. It’s a baffling choice that drains the film of emotional urgency.
Visually and technically, The Bone Temple is often impressive. DaCosta stages violence with brutal clarity, and the production design paints a convincingly decayed Britain filled with grotesque rituals and improvised monuments to the dead. There are moments of striking imagery that hint at a richer, more cohesive film lurking beneath the surface.
Ultimately, 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple feels like a series of bold ideas fighting each other rather than working in concert. Its extreme violence clashes with its humor, its philosophical ambitions clash with its narrative inertia, and its focus on secondary characters sidelines the emotional core it worked so hard to establish in the previous film. As a stand-alone post-apocalyptic film, it’s uneven but occasionally compelling. As a chapter in the 28 franchise, it’s a perplexing misstep — one that uses zombies as window dressing rather than confronting the terror and urgency that once defined the series.
SCORE: 3/10
As ComingSoon’s review policy explains, a score of 3 equates to “Bad.” Due to significant issues, this media feels like a chore to take in.
Disclosure: ComingSoon attended a press screening for our 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple review.
Source: Comingsoon.net