The Bone Temple, Nia DaCosta’s contemplative follow-up to Danny Boyle’s 28 Years Later (2025), is one of the weirdest mainstream movies in recent memory. For many, that’s what you sign up for – the zombie apocalypse has devastated Britain, leaving in its place a vacuum of civilization and societal norms. If our lives are accelerated by structure and purpose, The Bone Temple begins to examine what happens when those structures are disintegrated. Who, or what, rises up to demonstrate humanity’s neo outlook on kindness, faith, spirituality, or leadership? As the movie drives towards its climax, it pits its protagonist and antagonist as two sides of a coin representing what path humanity should follow in the wake of cataclysmic circumstances.

Jack O’Connor represents one side of that philosophical coin, and he’s really going for the unhinged persona in his portrayal of Jimmy Crystal, a sadistic cult leader who bullies his members into submission. A controlling gang leader utilizing the apocalypse for his own narcissistic gains. Contrasted with Ralph Fiennes, who turns in a serene portrayal of Dr. Ian Kelson, an optimistic master of medicine who’s determined to find a cure for the zombie afflicted. Where O’Connor is cruel and anarchistic, Fiennes is calm, reserved, and yearning to spare human connection. His Dr. Kelson hasn’t given up on humanity, and even devises a remedy that may see to reverse the effects of the virus. The psychological link that ties Crystal and Kelson together is how they respond to the aftermath of global tragedy. Crystal sees it as an opportunity, without guardrails to stop him, to empower himself and his beliefs, as he refers to himself as a Satanist. Kelson represents the people who have to do the work to pick up the pieces for humanity, if we are to move forward, as opposed to picking at its decaying bones like perverse vultures. Director DaCosta, and screenwriter Alex Garland, makes this juxtaposition the bulk of their narrative depth, contrasting two ideologies – one that eats itself, and another that helps humanity grow and persevere.

Fiennes’ role is solidly acted throughout, even if it never challenges the veteran actor to really dig in his bag of tricks. O’Connor is superbly over the top, yet the type of villain he’s playing is so ubiquitous that it may be harder for his portrayal to stand out over time. This charismatic but sadistic cult leader has many iterations, with the archetype perhaps becoming more popularized by Alex of A Clockwork Orange (1971). While Alex didn’t represent an invention of this type of character, much of Crystal’s presentation can be seen to take inspiration from Alex and the characters that were similarly inspired by him. The film opens on a viscous initiation ritual that wouldn’t look out of place in Stanley Kubrick’s aforementioned film, and Crystal exhibits all the hallmarks of a delusional and violent egotist who desires to subjugate his peers in order to feel like he has power.

Admittedly, The Bone Temple isn’t as dense with events as its predecessor, stripping the film down to even fewer locations and characters. The film’s narrative, focusing on the contrast in philosophy between the two leads, is intriguing but lacks an abundance of ideas. The film posits that Crystal’s idea of socializing is destructive, and Kelson’s way is therapeutic – but that’s already pretty clear in the 1st act alone, and there aren’t really any compelling wrinkles the film adds to the discussion. By the film’s end, we’re seen setting up for the next installment where things may really escalate, and it all adds to make The Bone Temple feel like a middle chapter that’s more in service of bridging the endpoints of the trilogy, than establishing a film that stands up narratively with those installments.

With that said, the elements that are here still work. Most notably we continue to follow Spike (Alfie Williams), the young lad separated from his family and positioned to find a new tribe for survival. Alfie’s portrayal sells the hopelessness and confusion a kid would have in this scenario, forced to commune with people he’s threatened by out of pure necessity. In many ways, the fight over Spike’s soul is at the center of the film’s morality play and commentary on human development. DaCosta also does well with establishing a visual consistency with the prior film, you certainly would not be able to guess a change in directors on first glance. Still, part of me wishes there was more to The Bone Temple, something that feels unique to itself rather than competently replicating tropes that are already common in zombie movies, including the movies in this franchise.

While the film is still fresh and opinions can change, at present The Bone Temple might just be the weakest of the franchise. But that is also a consequence of the franchise having a consistent track record of entertaining zombie flicks – the bar is higher than your average horror franchise. In that vein, The Bone Temple remains competently made, subtextually intriguing, and the film keeps you engaged until its bloody and symbolic finale. Not much more you would ask from a standalone film, The Bone Temple is only weighed down by the expectations established by its predecessors.

Yet even so, the movie still leaves you wanting more. In part due to a final scene that teases a potential finale to this saga. Where the filmmakers decide to take the story from here is anyone’s guess, but I wouldn’t mind seeing DaCosta or Danny Boyle’s next take on how the zombie apocalypse damages our collective psyche – but also challenges us to persevere. I just hope, on those narrative threads, that next time there’s more meat on the bone.

Rating: 3 out of 5.