28 Years Later: The Bone Temple doesn’t just continue one of horror’s most influential franchises; it deepens it, darkens it and confidently claims its place as one of the most important chapters of the saga.
As the fourth instalment in the film series, this latest entry builds on the world established in 28 Years Later, while quietly realigning the franchise with the raw, human terror that made the original film such a landmark. The result is a bleak, gripping and surprisingly emotional horror film that also manages to feel optimistic.
The film is directed by Nia DaCosta (Hedda) and written by returning franchise architect Alex Garland, a pairing that proves to be inspired. It stars Ralph Fiennes (reprising his Dr Ian Kelson role from 28 Years Later) alongside Jack O’Connell and Alfie Williams.
Set in a Britain long ravaged by the Rage Virus, the story follows Spike (Williams), a determined teen navigating the mainland in search of meaning and survival. His path collides with Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal (O’Connell), the sadistic leader of a cult-like faction known as the “Jimmys”. In a chillingly deliberate nod to one of Britain’s most notorious predators, the group’s name and Crystal’s performative authority suggest that in this new world, ancient evils have simply found a new way to hide in plain sight.
Meanwhile, Dr Ian Kelson, a former GP devoted to honouring the dead, finds himself drawn into a new relationship that may fundamentally alter humanity’s future. Around them orbit figures like Jimmy Ink (Erin Kellyman), a conflicted cult member, and Samson (Chi Lewis-Parry), an Alpha infected who forms a close bond with the doctor. The film steadily builds toward an ending that recontextualises the franchise’s past while pointing ominously toward what comes next.
DaCosta’s direction is nothing short of exceptional. She demonstrates a sharp understanding of what makes the 28 films resonate with their fandom. Her filmmaking is lean and purposeful, deftly balancing nerve-shredding tension with moments of pure, bonkers chaos. There’s a tactile, almost intimate quality to the horror here—grime under fingernails, fear in lingering silences—that recalls 28 Days Later while still feeling distinctly her own. It’s clear she understands this world inside out.
Ralph Fiennes delivers a deeply humane, quietly heartbreaking turn, grounding the film’s big ideas in personal grief and fragile hope. O’Connell is genuinely terrifying, crafting a villain who is charismatic, cruel, and disturbingly funny. Meanwhile, Williams delivers a beautifully sedate, awe-inspiring turn as a young boy who refuses to let go of the humanity instilled in him by his upbringing.
Thematically, The Bone Temple is about survival after survival. It is about what happens once the apocalypse is no longer new, and the real threat becomes what people choose to build in its aftermath. The film interrogates power, memory, and the cost of preserving humanity in a world that no longer rewards it. Its message is bleak but not nihilistic: even in the ruins, choices still matter, and the future is shaped by who we decide to follow.
The film also plants the seeds for what comes next, subtly steering the franchise toward a forthcoming chapter designed as a more direct sequel to 28 Days Later. It’s handled with restraint and confidence, feeling earned rather than gimmicky—a reminder of where this all began, and a promise that the story is far from over.
This is a harrowing, thoughtful, and impeccably crafted film that enriches its franchise while standing powerfully on its own. It is a real triumph for DaCosta in one of her biggest films yet.
