‘Nothing wrong with peace and respite…’
Some people hated the reveal of a gang of lunatics dressed like Jimmy Savile at the end of 28 Years Later. I loved it. It’s so rare to see a big Hollywood production taking a genuine risk. The problem with that ending scene, however, is how the hell do you then turn that madcap moment into a nearly two-hour movie? Well, let’s find out…
The action picks up where 28 Years Later left off, with Spike (Alfie Williams), now embroiled in the gang of Jimmy Savile lookalikes presided over by Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell), being forced to fight to the death with one of the other Jimmies (this one sports the lovely moniker, ‘Jimmy Shite’ as portrayed by Connor Newall). From there, Spike spends the whole movie desperately trying to keep his head above water with help from Jimmy Ink (Erin Kellyman) – one of the less unhinged members of the gang. Elsewhere, Dr Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) continues his fanatical quest to honour the dead with the titular bone temple, whilst also, perhaps misguidedly, attempting to befriend Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry), the alpha leader of the infected.
I had misgivings going into The Bone Temple, partly because of the aforementioned tonal whiplash of the ending of the last film and partly because of the absence of Danny Boyle (he retained a producer credit but ceded directing duties to Nia DaCosta). Now, I admire DaCosta’s visual ingenuity, but I was disappointed with her Candyman reboot, and I was sceptical about the ability of an American filmmaker to capture the essence of what is a quintessentially British film. I needn’t have worried.
The Bone Temple is a success. An unqualified success. This is bravura filmmaking that makes no concessions to trends, focus groups or mainstream audiences. Sat watching it in the cinema, I realised that I had forgotten how exciting it can be when a filmmaker takes genuine risks. There are scenes here that are bone-shakingly terrifying (the phrase ‘removal of the shirt’ will now haunt me forever), but there are other moments that are sweet, or funny, or sometimes just plain bizarre. As if life. The infected very much take a backseat to the horrors inflicted by man (or sometimes woman), and the film is all the more visceral and explosive for it. The fact that I barely thought about the infected at all (outside of Samson) until the third act demonstrates how effective everything else is.
While 28 Years Later was very much a state-of-the-nation attack on isolationism, The Bone Temple is more interested in the harm that can be inflicted by a charismatic tyrant… and what a tyrant! O’Connell’s performance here is utterly breathtaking. Crucially, for all his violence and cruelty, he also sells the fact that people would follow this man across a post-apocalyptic environment, committing unspeakable acts of brutality. While this is never a didactic film (due, as ever, to writer Alex Garland’s deftness of touch), it’s perhaps no coincidence that O’Connell’s cult leader is styled after a sex offender with ridiculous blonde hair. The real-life parallels are obvious (but never too intrusive).
Elsewhere, Fiennes also delivers a dizzying turn as the film’s conscience and heartbeat. To offer a performance so full of warmth and humanity in a film that is otherwise utterly devoid of hope is quite the balancing act. It’s also what pushes the film into greatness. When these disparate plot strands finally converge in the third act, the scenes that O’Connell and Fieness share crackle with an electric, incendiary chemistry unlikely to be replicated anywhere in any multiplex in 2026. We’ve already seen one of the films of the year; there is no doubt about that.
The Bone Temple continues what must now go down as one of the greatest franchises of all time. The final scene (also expertly presented) leads us into what will presumably be the final entry in the series. How Boyle (returning for the next entry) marries two films that are tonally poles apart remains to be seen, but for now, let us bask in the glory of The Bone Temple. How’s that?
