OVERVIEW
The Bone Temple is the fourth film in the 28 Days Later franchise, launched in 2002 with Danny Boyle’s 28 Days Later, which helped redefine modern zombie horror with rage-fueled speed and a bleak focus on what people become when the world collapses. This latest installment picks up right where 2025’s 28 Years Later left off: Spike, a 12-year-old who went looking for a cure for his mother, only for her to die on their journey, is now trapped with the Fingers, a cult-like gang led by Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell). Meanwhile, Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) is maintaining the Bone Temple, a memorial built from the dead, and runs into an Alpha infected, an encounter that hints there is more to the infected than anyone thought. Like the previous entries in this series, it is visceral, disturbing, and extremely gory (while still featuring weirdly prominent full-frontal male nudity). The infected are terrifying and brutal, but the most stomach-turning aspect comes from the people who survive them.
BACKGROUND
After Danny Boyle revived his 28 Days Later franchise, dormant for 18 years, with the nerve-jangling, punky, yet intimate and mournful 28 Years Later, it was time for Nia DaCosta to put her stamp on the series. Shot back-to-back with Boyle’s film, The Bone Temple arrived in theaters only 6 months after its predecessor. It is meant to be the middle chapter of the Years trilogy, with Boyle positioned to return with writer Alex Garland to wrap up the themes and plot points introduced in the previous film.
DaCosta had already been tasked with taking on established franchises with Candyman (2021) and The Marvels (one might argue, with less-than-ideal results). She has described a deep personal connection to Boyle’s original, which she watched repeatedly when she was young, and credits it as part of what pushed her toward filmmaking. She also made a point of not mimicking Boyle’s distinct style while still nudging the script toward a more infected tone.
EXECUTION
If the cliffhanger in 2025’s film felt awkward and made that entry feel more like a long pilot for a new television series, DaCosta’s film plays like a mid-season detour, where we spend a lot of time with characters we do not really care about, while the ones we do take the back seat, expanding the mythology more than it advances the emotional story. Spike mostly plays an observant role, while the focus shifts to the new cult group led by Jimmy Crystal, the kid who opened the previous film and appeared in its last scene.
That change in focus also means a shift in the film’s thematic ambitions. Where the previous entry explored elegantly complex ideas like coming of age under pressure, coming to terms with inevitable death, isolationism, and how society shapes and molds toxic masculinity (so many deep themes for a film with frenetic naked zombies!), the sequel seems satisfied with the danger of belief in misguided places and nostalgia as rot, themes that feel far more common and straightforward.
Not only are the themes way less complex this time around, but they are explored with much less nuance. At times, dialogues have characters state their motivations out loud (as in the conversation between Jimmy Crystal and Dr. Ian Kelson, which, like much in the film, is elevated by the actors). Crystal is based on British TV presenter Jimmy Savile, a celebrity built on nostalgia and protected by his audience. You do not need the reference to get it, though, as the film makes it obvious what it is doing with him within his first five minutes. There is little left to interpretation, making it far less rewarding on a second viewing than its predecessor.
It is not without its entertainment value, and it even lands a few strange, heartwarming beats, mostly thanks to Ralph Fiennes and Jack O’Connell. Fiennes expands on the fascinating character he introduced in last year’s film, still bringing levity and humor, but, more importantly, gravitas and depth. He is by far the most memorable aspect of the film, and having him lip-sync to Iron Maiden’s “The Number of the Beast” while pretending to be the devil was not in my 2026 bingo card. On the page, there is not much to the character, but Fiennes makes him iconic, and honestly, deserving of a better film.
As for Jack O’Connell, the British actor is visibly having a blast with a character not far from his Sinners villain, once again devilishly witty and unhingedly grotesque. He is memorable, and he looks striking with the long silver-blonde hair, golden chains, and tiara, but the character is still not quite complex or especially interesting. The script squanders the chance to follow through on his setup, first seen as a kid in the previous film, and push him somewhere more unexpected, or even genuinely tragic.
Which is the movie in a nutshell. Scenes that have Fiennes hanging out with a nude, beefy infected watching the moon, the “start of the Fiennes show,” or the one-on-one fights that end in shocking deaths are unquestionably flashy, but it is all rather hollow spectacle that leaves little for audiences to hang on to.
DaCosta often goes for cheap scares and gore, and the violence ends up feeling strangely weightless. Take the Alpha’s first scene, for example. He pulls a man’s head off like pulling a weed from damp soil, yet the moment lacks the sound design and framing to really land the impact. There is also a jump scare in the final moments that lingers so long that it gives the audience time to prepare. Despite frequent chases and danger, the film never truly unnerves or keeps us on the edge of our seats.
Style is also much more watered down, occasionally aping Boyle’s, but most of the time is frustratingly conventional. Gone are the inventive iPhone cinematography and the frantic editing (though, being fair, only Boyle can pull those off). The needle drops are solid, but the instrumental score only really makes an impact in the end credits, when a past franchise theme returns.
And through it all, the most frustrating element is how Spike’s character is sidelined. Young actor Alfie Williams, one of 2025’s best discoveries, does what he can with a script that keeps him stuck in the same loop, wide-eyed and frightened, hanging around the cult, repeatedly trying to escape while the big thematic conversations happen all around him. Other than forming a new connection with one of the Fingers, played by Erin Kellyman (a role she keeps getting cast in, although she makes this one quite distinct from the similar characters she played in Solo: A Star Wars Story and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier), his arc mostly stalls. The film barely acknowledges his mother or his past life on the island, which could have made a powerful parallel to these kids following Jimmy, and even given Kellyman’s character clearer motivation. Instead, Spike plays almost no part in the movie’s central conflict and ends up feeling oddly dispensable, which is a shame.
Like any television series detour arc, by the end, you are happy this particular story is finished, and the series can get back to its more interesting threads.
AFTERTASTE
With the distinctive style and complex themes of its predecessor sorely missing, 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple is a significant step down for the franchise, lacking the human elements that made the previous films (yes, including the underrated 28 Weeks Later) such a treat. It has a few memorable moments, and Fiennes steals the show, but overall it feels like a mid-season arc that leaves you glad it is over.