My quick rating – 7.3/10. If 28 Years Later proved the infected weren’t done ruining everyone’s day, 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple proves the humans are doing a pretty solid job of that on their own.
We pick up right where things left off, with Spike (Alfie Williams) now on the mainland and running with Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal’s gang of Satan-worshipping sadists, because apparently surviving the apocalypse wasn’t chaotic enough. The film wastes zero time throwing Spike into a stabby fight-to-the-death with a pack of blond kids. Childhood: cancelled.
Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell) remains a theatrical, unhinged nightmare of a villain. Part cult leader, part glam-rock warlord, part motivational speaker from hell. O’Connell plays him with such manic conviction that he’s both terrifying and weirdly hilarious. Every time he’s on screen, you feel like someone’s about to lose a limb or deliver a punchline. Whichever comes first.
Meanwhile, Dr. Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) finds himself in a deeply unexpected relationship that could reshape this broken world. His storyline quietly becomes the emotional backbone of the film. Kelson’s insistence on seeing Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry) not as a monster but as a being capable of connection is radical in a world ruled by carnage. In a franchise built on infection and collapse, empathy becomes the most subversive act of all. Fiennes plays it with an intensity that never tips into melodrama. Just quiet defiance against moral decay.
Erin Kellyman’s Jimmy Ink feels like a missed opportunity. She could have been a stronger survival mentor for Spike instead of hovering at the edges. And don’t let the brief stretch I jokingly called “My Zombie Buddy” fool you. This isn’t soft. And yes, I was talking to myself. The film is graphic, intense, and choreographed with brutal precision. The violence is relentless, but it’s staged beautifully, with practical effects and makeup work that make every wound feel personal.
Visually, it’s a stunner. That creepy forest makes a welcome return, still looking like it eats hikers for sport. The sound design and the strategic lack of sound amplify every breath and snap of bone. Then there’s the moment with the fingers meeting “Old Nick,” blasted perfectly with Iron Maiden. As someone lucky enough to see them live, that needle drop hit like a sledgehammer.
Interestingly, this entry barely feels like a zombie movie. The infected remain more as background than centerpiece. Rather, the series is guided by director Nia DaCosta and writer Alex Garland into a post-apocalyptic horror that is infused with politics and philosophical undertones. At times, a bit too obvious, but never boring. The convergence of the storylines of Spike and Kelson results in some electrifying repartee between Fiennes and O’Connell.
It’s stranger, richer territory for the franchise – heavier on gore, heavier on ideas, and bold enough to shift the focus away from the infected entirely. And judging by that ending? We’re not done yet.
The apocalypse, it seems, still has sequels left in it. And if they can combine the human aspect with the zombie mayhem into a single flick, well, I cannot wait.
