If you asked Alex Garland about humanity, there’s little doubt he’d tell you we’re cooked.
Over his last few films, Garland has been circling the American collapse from an outsider’s vantage point. With Warfare and Civil War, he’s clearly attempting to diagnose what’s happening over here in the U.S., but for me, those films always felt close, yet not quite there. Whether that distance comes from being a foreign observer, or from the undeniable privilege of being a wealthy white European man working within the film industry, there’s been a sense that something essential was missing at ground level.
That missing ingredient arrives with his collaboration with Nia DaCosta, a woman of color from New York, whose perspective pushes Garland’s material across the finish line. 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple may initially present itself as a post-apocalyptic rage-zombie banger, but beneath the carnage it reframes the infected as a metaphor for post–rabbit-hole radicalized right-wing extremism.
As someone who enjoyed The Marvels, it’s hard not to see the irony in DaCosta being uniquely qualified to explore rage-fueled monsters. After enduring one of the most racist and misogynistic fandom backlashes in recent memory- simply for wanting to make a fun movie about three female superheroes – she brings a lived understanding of online radicalization and hate that gives this film its teeth.
Picking up immediately after 28 Years Later, the film once again finds a continent overrun by unstoppable killing machines three decade in. What differentiates The Bone Temple from the previous entries is that it asks why. Why does a man attack a child? A pregnant woman? Why the unprovoked cruelty? DaCosta poses these questions boldly by placing us, for the first time, inside the POV of a rage-infected individual. The metaphor is thinly veiled, but it’s also flawlessly executed.
This thematic thread deepens through Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), whose work to unlock the mysteries of the virus leads to a strangely charming bond with Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry), an alpha infected. Their dynamic is eerie, funny, and quietly profound, suggesting understanding and medication – rather than annihilation as the only possible path forward.
Running parallel is one of the film’s most chilling elements: the danger of blind faith. Enter the Jimmys—a homicidal cult modeled after Jimmy Savile, first glimpsed at the end of the previous film in one of its most divisive moments. When we reunite with Spike, the young protagonist from the previous film, he’s forced to join this group, who were responsible for some of the bone chilling murders of survivors we saw in the last film. Through the charismatic and unhinged Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (Jack O’Connell), we witness how indoctrination works—how Satanic “visions” and performative authority transform vulnerable followers into willing monsters.
The film barrels toward its climax as this faith-based cult collides with Kelson, the atheist doctor who may have cracked the biggest breakthrough on the plague right before the gang shows up at his Ossuary. It’s here that DaCosta truly lets loose, delivering moments that are darkly hilarious, layered with subtext. What’s impressive is how seamlessly The Bone Temple flows from its predecessor, while still standing firmly on its own, telling a different story with a satisfying conclusion—and left just enough open space for a potential final chapter.
Ralph Fiennes and Jack O’Connell are magnetic throughout, each embodying opposing ideologies with remarkable precision. Once the subtext clicks, their performances become even more rewarding.
Make no mistake: 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple is still a visceral nightmare. The jump scares are effective, but once the film drops us into a Jimmy raid, it becomes clear this sequel is not afraid to go there. Squeamish viewers should proceed with caution, though these moments mark a crucial turning point for the characters, exposing just how thoroughly dangerously deranged this cult is.
Given that Samson and Dr. Kelson were my favorite elements of the previous film, I couldn’t have been more thrilled with the direction DaCosta takes them here. Their bizarre montages—dancing to Duran Duran—are strange, funny, and unexpectedly moving. Paired with the Jimmys, who embody the most dangerous facets of humanity—religious zealotry fused with calculated cruelty—the film reinforces its message without ever feeling as heavy handed as Candyman, yet no less effective.
DaCosta delivers a gnarly, ultra-violent sequel packed with scares and substance, cementing her status as one of horror’s most vital voices working today. The Bone Temple doesn’t just continue the franchise—it elevates it, setting the stage for what could be a devastating and necessary final chapter.
Interesting article, and I agree that The Bone Temple is definitely a great metaphor for society’s increasing radicalisation and extremism. However, despite its American director, I have to disagree that it is coming at this theme from the point of view of ‘American collpase’. Its British setting and themes (e.g. with the Jimmies) make it more of a metaphor for an increasingly isolated and nationalistic post-Brexit Britain (hence the virus having been pushed back from the European mainland, as noted in 28 Years Later). Danny Boyle himself has even said that the film can be interpreted as an allegory for Brexit.
Unfortunately, I think the fact that an American can intepret this film as being about the state of their own country really goes to show how bad the state of the world is, that radicalisation, fascism, populism etc really is that far-reaching and on the rise at the moment that it’s affecting life for many of us.