28 Years: The Bone Temple takes the franchise in fascinating and fun new directions.
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Studios should have to pay for their crimes against Nia DaCosta. DaCosta is an undeniably talented director who came into mainstream attention after her indie drama, Little Woods garnered critical acclaim followed by her awesome remake/reboot of the Candyman franchise in 2021. Then came The Marvels and the all of the bullshit. Without getting too into the weeds, the movie underperformed at the box office and a number of parties, including Kevin Feige, appeared to take shots at DaCosta's direction vs...all of the other decisions that have undermined Marvel properties since Avengers: Endgame including promotion issues due to labor strikes. Now we cut to 2026 where DaCosta has helmed another horror gem...that didn't scare up a similar box office haul as its predecessor...mostly via failure of a marketing campaign.
Not only that but now, for some reason no one can quantify (methinks isms are at play), people took aim at the bombastic reviews featured in the movie's promotion for overselling the movie as a game-changing experience.
None of which reflects the movie's actual quality. So today let's dig into the The Bone Temple and see if there's more meat on this franchise and movie than folks might expect.
The Setup
Picking up where the last film left off, the film follows Spike who is being initiated into a Satanic death cult known as the Jimmies. While Spike tries to survive and find an opening to escape, his friend Dr. Ian Kelson is making a startling discovery that could change this world. But soon, the pair is set on a deadly collision course that could lead to salvation or ruin.
The Bone Temple is a fascinating movie to talk about because it almost feels like two disparate movies pushed into one. Over here we have everything related to the Jimmie's, where the emphasis is heavy on the human horror's carried about by Jimmie and his band (there's a lot to unpack here, which we will get to in a bit). And on the other side we have a combination character study and bromance with Ralph Fiennes Dr. Kelson who's making some intriguing discoveries about the rage virus and in particular the Alpha that's been circling the titular Bone Temple.
But that juxtaposition is rather intentional, harkens back to the franchise's roots and lets the franchise do something it's rarely done before: have fun.
So let's start with the Jimmies
The Jimmies
The Jimmies are not an unfamiliar element in post-apocalyptic or zombie fiction. They're the cult. The group led by an unhinged madman at their forefront who has embraced violence and murder as a ritual in literal service to Satan.
The movie smartly uses Spike as our audience POV who after being snatched up by this group, now gets to see how the group operates for the first time in a number of sequences that highlight the classic "men are the real monsters" aspect that's always been present in the franchise and most fascinatingly, how tensions within cults ultimately unravel.
The cult is led by Jimmy Crystal, played by rising genre king Jack O'Connell who uses all of the classic cult tactics. Their rituals are designed to confirm loyalty from his followers while keeping outside voice at bay, he leads with violence and by example, and he also enjoys using his position to force his underlings to do his bidding.
However, control, and those that control in this manner, have limits, and Jimmy is running up against them as his cadre of goons start to question his connection to the Dark Lord and others begin to get sick of his schtick. Like hearing the same story for the 50th time and being expected to laugh like it's the funniest thing in the world.
Something that's so insidious, but never fully said, is that someone like Spike is already in survival mode. He's on his own without any connections or support. So he's acting like he's on board with Jimmy and company because it's clear they'll kill him or he'll have to kill a bunch of them. The zombie apocalypse removed most of the good options Spike could pull, which makes Jimmy's self-centered madness even darker.
Nia DaCosta also makes these scenes ominous as hell with her visual language, with a dark/overcast color palette that feels reminiscent of the 2000s horror the original film inspired and careful use of insert shots and shocking flashes of gore to put the audience in the horrifying headspace of Jimmy's victims and Spike.
Because what are your other options for survival when the world is overrun with infected humans? Funny thing about that.
Camp Kelson
It's never a bad idea to give Ralph Fiennes a meaty part in your movie, especially if he's a character that was a touch difficult to pin down the first time around. This time we get to see what a day in the life looks like for Dr. Kelson, along with some inferences about his backstory as well as a clear evolution in his character: from solitude to connection.
Piggybacking on the last film, Bone Temple reinforces what the audience probably already knew. That a key element of Dr. Kelson's survival has been routine. Routinely adding to his ossuary. Covering himself in iodine on the daily. Wandering his perimeter. And coming back to a safe zone to wash off and bask in a handful of reminders of his former life.
But then the routine breaks in unexpected ways with the infected Alpha named Samson.
Going into too much detail will spoil the fun here, but rest assured this is the yin to Jimmy's yang. A sign of hope, understanding and connection in sharp contrast to Jimmy's abrasive and abusive approach to leadership and "family." Complete with more upbeat daytime shots, a pastural camera, and some choice 80s pop tracks to lift the spirits.
It's so fun/funny to me considering how intimidating he came across in the early previews with how fun his character and performance are in the film.
That juxtaposition also delves into another solid idea. The need to break routines.
Breaking Routines
The 28 Years Later movies have mined a lot out of humanity's new routines and rituals. What's been established, stuck around or modified in the face of an existential threat. Because there is comfort in routine and ritual. You can still come of age, be accepted by your peers or remember those that have fallen through ritual.
You can also stagnate.
Become so engulfed in repeating what's worked or what you've always done that other parts of you atrophy or prevent you and the world from evolving.
Oddly enough, this zombie apocalypse sequel isn't advocating for violent heroism. It's pushing for curiosity. Change. Connection. Upending the old to improve towards a new future.
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