After what may have been one of the strangest and grotesque closing scenes of 2025, it was a relief to hear that The Bone Temple, the fourth instalment in the quickly growing 28 Days franchise, would be released a mere six months after its predecessor. For one, we’d get some sort of explanation as to why a group of survivors were parading around infected land dressed as notorious paedophile and serial rapist Jimmy Savile. For two, perhaps a ride as enjoyable as the rest of the franchise, penned by original writer Alex Garland with a fresh face, Nia DaCosta, directing. Unfortunately, while somewhat entertaining with a few standout scenes and performances here and there, The Bone Temple failed to tick off either of these expectations, a rather pointless and unexciting instalment in an otherwise pioneering franchise.
Set straight after the 28 Years Later events, Spike (Alfie Williams) has been recruited by the Jimmys, led by the satanist ‘Sir Lord’ Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell), while Dr Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) pushes the limits of medicine – and post-apocalyptic horror – by fraternising with one of the alphas, christened Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry). Aside from the latter, there are in fact very little zombies present in The Bone Temple, a plot point that would be an impressive feat were it not for the Jimmys’
lack of effect. The primary issue here is, quite simply, why? Why are the central characters parading around dressed as a serial rapist (and where do they find the wigs)? Theories have been thrown around of course – the virus broke out pre what would have been Savile’s death, meaning the Jimmys could simply be cosplaying a well-known figures of their youths (though if this universe’s dates are correct, they wouldn’t even have been the right age to grow up with Savile’s Top of the Pops on their screens). A metaphor for the dilapidation of society, an uncomfortable vision of a crumble Britain… the problem is that it’s not – to this viewer, of course – immediately obvious, and hence, inherently disturbing without the weight of intent behind it. The fact remains that, despite O’Connell’s spine-shivering, toe-curling performance, there is very little to root for here. The Jimmys stick out like sore thumbs (or should I say, Fingers) – and not in the good way. A young boy learning the ropes of adulthood in Years, Spike is also chronically underutilised here, doing nothing more than occasionally vomiting, hidden from view by ugly velvet tracksuits. There are also a group of survivors who are attached by the Jimmys, and completely forgotten about thereafter – Mirren Mack as a pregnant survivor escapes, and is never seen again, a rather striking disappointment, if only to take some screentime away from the blond wigs.
The real standout, of course, is Fiennes, who embraces chaos, humming Duran Duran and getting high with the world’s largest zombie. There’s an inexplicably mental metal dance scene that is a particular pleasure to watch in a cinema, gaping at its sheer weirdness. That his storyline should veer towards using his studies to potentially find a cure to the disease is perhaps a bit crass – the fact that there are still people under the savagery effaces the fear associated with a zombie apocalypse to a certain extent. But the 28 Days franchise is seemingly more and more preoccupied with the natural essence and philosophy of what zombies mean, so this is perhaps not that much of a surprise. Yet, because of this, it feels more and more far away from what made the originals so unique, a little empty, a little meaningless, with nothing but satanist vs atheist dialogue to support it (and the odd amount of heavy gore). For The Bone Temple, it is on the contrary the final scene that is the most exciting, foreshadowing a potentially thrilling fifth instalment. Perhaps, then, the only way to view The Bone Temple is as a pause, a bridge, a connection between mainland and island – or, between its predecessor and an almost certain sequel.
