Warning: minor spoilers ahead. But also, I assume that if you’re going to see The Bone Temple, you’ve already suffered through – erm – watched 28 Years Later. It’s a good news – bad news situation. The good news is, The Bone Temple is objectively a better movie. The bad news? There’s more full frontal primal-primate-zombie nudity. 

28 Years Later and The Bone Temple are parts one and two of a trilogy, with the third installment being green lit following positive reception to The Bone Temple. Now, you may want to say “But Matt! I thought 28 Years Later was the end of the 28 Days Later – 28 Weeks Later trilogy?!” Well, yes, they do exist in the same ‘rage virus’ afflicted post-apocalyptic Great Britain universe. But 28 Years Later really set up a whole new world of rules with various flavors of repulsive zombie-folk and an all-too-common theme of “The humans that are twisted enough to have survived this long are more troubled and troubling than a mindless zombie could ever be!” In fact, The Bone Temple almost completely forwent the threat of ghouls and instead focused on the growing terror orchestrated under the command of a man seemingly afflicted by trauma and Teletubby induced schizophrenia. 

But where 28 Years Later was a somewhat chaotic jumble of three distinct plotlines wearing a blood-stained trenchcoat, The Bone Temple was strikingly linear with two parallel story lines slowly revealing more about the lead antagonists from both films, Jimmy and Samson. Jimmy is the aforementioned violent ring leader while Samson is the aforementioned primal-primate-zombie, but both are afflicted in surprisingly similar ways. 

The first movie spent a good amount of time painting a bleak picture of humanity, or a lack thereof. Beyond the grotesque assortment of ghouls, there were the typical morally bankrupt survivors, but even the village of “normal” folks is rife with all the same character flaws we suffer from in the real world: inflating their heroics while out in the wild and being unfaithful to an infirmed spouse. 

So, it was rather surprising to sit through the bone temple and see this dastardly, inhuman world slowly find humanity at every turn. Characters otherwise clearly coded as chaotic-evil showed pause at the tears of others. Even the mindless, savage rage-zombies are given a path for redemption and renewal. And at the center of each of these profound character arcs is Ralph Fiennes’ character, Dr. Ian Kelson. In this ever-churning, fight for your life, dog eat dog time and place, he alone seems immune to the insanity. He alone speaks to everyone and everything with the same measured, calm, and ready-to-understand demeanor. His ability to let the shock and awe of his surroundings pass him over when everyone else is rabid with power and anxiety and indecision reminds me so much of the original Lord of the Rings literary character, Tom Bombadil. While a somewhat divisive character in that franchise, everyone recognizes Bombadil’s odd inclusion in the middle of someone else’s tale, and his ability to master the one ring’s power and dominion. It had no effect on him – a simple trinket. In the same way, Dr. Kelson’s ability to stay centered and grounded within his Memento Mori – his bone temple – while juxtaposed against the wild, purposeless flailing of the world around him is truly baffling. He is by far my favorite character. And while they did address a bit of his routine and rituals to stay connected to his humanity, I would have liked to see a little bit more about where the strength for his sustained ethos and philosophy is derived.

Beyond the goals and motives of the character himself, Ralph Fiennes provides a similar anchor to the cast and the performances. While he is usually providing the most calm and reasonable dialogue, he gets to act equally bananas in this installment – for good reason. And it’s such a delight to see a serious, celebrated artists get to have so much unbridled fun. Some of the scenes are objectively ridiculous, and yet, Fiennes brings a light and joy and wonder to them that found me forgetting – again and again – that what I was watching wasn’t real. Dr. Kelson is a doctor, but he’s also clearly a scientist at heart. He’s curious, interested, and invested in his results, and Fiennes delivers all of this odd wonder with such…odd wonder. 

While Dr. Kelson is on the brink of a breakthrough with Samson’s character, we see Jack O’Connell deliver a very consistently strong performance as the damaged and deranged Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal. His entire backstory and the cult that he developed because of it is a devastating blend of Silence of the Lambs meets The Lord of the Flies. Even in an era saturated with the “Even the bad guy has an origin story” trend, The Bone Temple takes the theme from dizzying new heights to the most gut-wrenching lows. It’s so common to see people with legitimate and profound childhood trauma develop their own code of conduct in an attempt to make sense of their harsh and confounding reality. But in the real world, those individuals might be blessed to bounce into the right influence, therapist, or other help. In The Bone Temple, poor Jimmy is doomed to encounter one group of victims after the next who cannot cope with what he has become. And for the lucky few who are desperate and capable enough to join his ranks, they simply become additional acoustical treatment in his sadistic echo chamber. 

The movie ends with a clear set up for a third – and likely final – installment. I am terribly curious to see what the creators do with this incredible palette they’ve devised. 28 Years Later was all about hitting rock bottom and a somewhat hopeless despair. The Bone Temple introduces that missing hope and the possibility of a light at the end of this otherwise pitch-black tunnel. So what balance, loss, or triumph might the ending hold? I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Howzat?