The original 28 Days Later was a gamechanger in the zombie apocalypse. It introduced the fast zombie, a beast that’s just as interested with getting its infectious blood on your skin as getting its teeth into those tasty, tasty brains. It’s a concept that’s summarised succinctly in the opening act when an environmental group’s attempts to free a bunch of animals in a laboratory goes horribly awry. There’s no expository monologue about what happens next as we’re introduced to Jim (a fresh-faced Cillian Murphy), an everyman who wakes up to find himself seemingly alone in a desolate London. Filming was a delicate operation for Danny Boyle, who waited until dawn on Sundays to capture deserted streets without selling out for overpriced CGI effects.
I still haven’t had the opportunity to view 28 Weeks Later at time of reading, but reviews don’t indicate that I’m really missing out on much. Going into 28 Years Later last year felt like a welcome refresher. I’d seen the great six minute teaser clip of Spike and his father scalping a few infected already, but it was great that Boyle wasn’t leaning into bored nostalgia tropes with his approach to the zombies, introducing some new threats with slow zombies and the more intimidating alphas. The film didn’t quite fit together for me as a whole, but it did introduce some interesting figures, particularly Ralph Fiennes’ eccentric Doctor Ian Kelson. Alongside some vibrant musical beats mixed and an unexpected Teletubbies shock alongside a particularly offbeat teaser-baiting conclusion, it was definitely breaking out from the fold.
Going into the double bill, I definitely enjoyed 28 Years more on my second viewing. I had more time to get into the characters and appreciate the sets a bit more. I was slightly apprehensive about The Bone Temple, with Boyle handing over directing duties to Nia DaCosta (Candyman, The Marvels). I also noticed that this joint was bumped up to an 18 rating instead of the previous film’s 15. It was pretty easy to see what prompted that rise with a certain barn scene that verges on torture porn and didn’t seem particularly necessary in getting across the villainy of Jack O’Connell’s twisted satanist Jimmy (a dark omen alluded to in 28 Years Later’s branded corpse and graffitied walls), but it definitely hammers home the need for a traumatised Spike to try and escape his clutches at the earliest opportunity. A decent case could be made for the first 28 Years to earn itself a higher rating for certain scenes of alpha zombie behaviour, but perhaps Boyle held more influence as director in the film’s final certification decision. Either way, the gruesome moment cements Jimmy as the film’s central bad guy.
The Bone Temple gives us a welcome respite from the Jimmys as it delves into Fiennes’ Kelson, a figure we only gained a glimpse of in the first entry. We see photos of a former partner and get a sense of his past life with the various records he plays in a hidden basement, but DaCosta thankfully doesn’t get over expository in these sections. The main thrust of his narrative concerns his growing fascination with self-named alpha Sampson, an alpha in which he is determined to discover signs of humanity and self-awareness. Kelson acts as the film’s beating heart, dancing amidst the chaos as surrounding figures meet their gruesome demise. As with the first film, it seems odd to completely remove the story from Spike’s island and focus narrative attention exclusively on his character and Kelson’s, but this problem will doubtlessly be addressed in the third chapter, presuming that The Bone Temple makes a big enough box office to fund the final endeavour. Here’s hoping.