Whatever your feelings on 28 Years Later, you must admit that ending was pretty weird. A bunch of backflipping Jimmy Saville-attired zombie killers led by a strange accented Jack O’Connell is not the way many expected Danny Boyle’s long-awaited sequel to end. But it is a very intriguing prospect to dive into.
28 Years Later: The Bone Temple picks up following the events of the first (and also third) film. Young Spike (Alfie Williams) has fallen in with the Jimmys, led by Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (O’Connell), as they forage and ruin the lives of other survivors. Meanwhile, Dr Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) begins to connect with Alpha-infected Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry) and seems to understand the infection better.
From the off, this has a different style to 28 Years Later, mainly thanks to new director Nia DaCosta’s style compared to Boyle’s. She’s an interesting choice, given that, outside of her debut indie drama Little Woods, she has largely worked with established works—Candyman, The Marvels, Hedda and now The Bone Temple.
Whereas there was an intensity to the editing of Boyle’s films, there’s an unflinching nature to DaCosta’s. Less concerned with shutter speed and editing, her film looks at violence and horror with the same demented glee that Jimmy brings to all he does. The film’s opening scene, a horrible one-on-one fight that ends with a wince-inducing death, sets the tone of the film. It’s brutal.
But that’s not to say that DaCosta is in it for the gore and the violence. When she and writer Alex Garland focus on Kelson and Samson, the film takes time to breathe, exploring what humanity is in the midst of the end. Ralph Fiennes mines more of Kelson’s inner mind here, not just the kindly GP turned bone architect of the previous film; his natural interest in the infection is offset by his eccentric love of music and his growing affection for Samson.
It must be said that Chi Lewis-Parry is superb as Alpha-infected Samson. What could have been a big muscle guy (with his manhood on show) running around and growling becomes the film’s thematic thesis—what is humanity? As Samson explores and possibly even remembers, Lewis-Parry imbues him with humanity amidst the violence. This is where the film reveals its biggest inspiration. There’s more than a little George A. Romero here. Samson joins Sherman Howard’s Bub (Day of the Dead) and Eugene Clark’s Big Daddy (Land of the Dead) as a ‘zombie’ with burgeoning humanity.
The film’s two storylines and examination of how faith is used to oppress people also allow DaCosta to ratchet up tension; the film continues the series’ ability to juxtapose thrilling and brutal horror with quiet moments of contemplation. But, when it comes to the finale, DaCosta pulls out all the stops for a set-piece that is even stranger than anything in previous films. It might be this that sells the brilliance of The Bone Temple. It’s a film that has plenty of intelligence but also a giddy streak of madness.
There are few other films with perfectly timed jump scares likely to linger in the memory, brutal scenes of torture, humanistic looks at fear-mongering, and Ralph Fiennes singing Duran Duran’s Girls on Film. But DaCosta manages to balance them all while furthering the development of William’s Spike.
Spike may be somewhat sidelined in favour of O’Connell’s fearfully prescient Jimmy, a cult leader with delusions of religious ecstasy and Fiennes’ affable doctor, but Williams is still able to start his progression from scared little boy to someone trying to grapple with where they stand in a world that has no morals.
If the team can stick the landing with the third part, this might be the greatest horror series in terms of consistency. As it stands, The Bone Temple avoids the pitfalls of being a middle film by charting its own course, its own feelings and being thrillingly weird.
28 Years Later: The Bone Temple is in cinemas from 14 January.
