Bloody Hell, A Movie Sequel Just Showed Games How It's Done (Again!)
AI Gaming News Author · Polygon ·
This movie review of '28 Years Later: The Bone Temple' sparks my gamer brain, highlighting how its success as a 'middle entry' sequel offers brilliant lessons for game developers on world expansion, character agency, and balancing diverse narrative tones without player feedback.
Right, so usually when a film review lands on my digital desk, I'm thinking, 'Alright, another IP getting its cinematic moment.' But this one, about '28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,' got me thinking about something we grapple with constantly in gaming: the cursed 'middle child' syndrome of sequels. This piece is a repurposed take on Jake Kleinman's insightful review for Polygon, '28 Years Later The Bone Temple review: Nia Dacosta succeeds, and then some.'
You know the drill, mate. Trilogies are tough. The first entry gets all the glory, the third gets to wrap things up (or totally botch it, bless its heart). But the second? Oh, the second entry. It’s gotta build on the legend, not just retread old ground, but also not jump the shark into an entirely different genre. Think *The Empire Strikes Back*, *The Dark Knight*, *Mass Effect 2* – these are the legends. Then there’s the ones that feel like filler, a bridge to nowhere. According to Kleinman, 'The Bone Temple' is one of those rare, shining middle entries that doesn't just clear the bar, it vaults over it with a double somersault and lands perfectly.
Now, here’s where my wizard brain started sparking connections to our glorious gaming world. Imagine a dev team getting handed the keys to a beloved franchise sequel *before* the first one even hits the shelves. That's essentially what director Nia DaCosta had to contend with. Danny Boyle, the godfather of '28 Days Later,' kickstarted '28 Years Later' and then, without so much as a peep from audience reactions, passed the torch to DaCosta for 'The Bone Temple.' No player feedback, no Metacritic scores to parse, just pure, unadulterated creative leap of faith. Bloody hell, that's a gamble! It’s like a studio commissioning *The Witcher 4* while *The Witcher 3* is still in alpha. The pressure must've been immense, and DaCosta apparently stuck the landing, succeeding 'and then some.' That's a developer making a surprisingly good decision, and we love to see it.
The review suggests that while 'The Bone Temple' isn't as 'visually experimental or emotionally resonant' as the first, it capably widens the world. This is crucial for any good game sequel, innit? You don’t just want better graphics; you want *more world*. More lore, more mechanics, more reasons to keep exploring. Kleinman talks about finding 'charming comedy and grotesque horror' in this alternate England. Now, that's something a game could run with! Imagine a zombie survival game with multiple faction paths – one where you're allied with a philosophical group building monuments of bones, and another where you're desperately trying to survive the brutality of cultist Satanists. Talk about dynamic gameplay and narrative choices!
The original '28 Years Later' apparently featured young Spike, his unhappy parents, a morbid but lovely Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), and a violent Satanist named Jimmy (Jack O’Connell). 'The Bone Temple' shifts focus to Kelson and Jimmy, sending them on 'disparate and tonally opposing adventures before smashing them together.' Spike, the 'player character' of the first film, loses most of his agency. This immediately pings my gamer radar. What happens when your established player character becomes an NPC? It's a bold move, almost like a game pushing you into a new character's shoes midway through a series, hoping you're invested enough in the world to stick around.
Jimmy's story sounds like a deep dive into human depravity. His 'merry band of murderers' who all call themselves Jimmy, wearing matching blonde wigs, torturing families. DaCosta doesn’t shy away from the gore, reinforcing the 'uncaring reality' of this post-apocalyptic world. O'Connell's performance selling the conceit that Satan sent the rage virus and Jimmy himself? That’s a villain with conviction, mate. In a game, a character like Jimmy would be an incredible antagonist – unpredictable, terrifying, and deeply rooted in a twisted ideology rather than just being 'another big baddie.' This isn't just a zombie horde; it's a social horror, a brilliant exploration of how humanity turns on itself when the chips are down.
Then you’ve got Kelson, still chilling in his monument to the dead, but now with an 'unlikely friend' – Samson, the rage-infected 'Alpha' from the previous film. This is where the 'charming comedy' and 'eerily beautiful moments' come in. A human-zombie odd-couple pairing? That’s some genius-level narrative design! Imagine a companion system in a game where your partner is a literal Alpha zombie, and the game trusts you enough not to constantly tease jump scares. It sounds like a fantastic way to subvert expectations and explore themes beyond just 'kill all the zombies.' It emphasizes that core concept of any good zombie narrative: the real villain is always us.
Eventually, these two disparate paths – the brutal, nihilistic Jimmy and the philosophical, surprisingly compassionate Kelson – converge. Kleinman describes their initial interaction as 'surprisingly civil,' a verbal joust between Fiennes and O’Connell, followed by an 'epic and overwhelming' climax that had the theatre applauding. Now *that* sounds like a hell of a boss battle, doesn't it? A showdown framed around 'good vs. evil, or perhaps science vs. religion.' Alex Garland (the screenwriter) apparently doesn't see much difference, which is a delightfully cynical take. For a game, this could be a branching narrative choice, influencing the ending, or a deeply impactful cinematic moment that resonates long after the credits roll.
One minor quibble, according to the review, is the lack of broader worldbuilding. The first film apparently teased a world where other countries moved on, quarantining England. 'The Bone Temple' doesn't expand on that. For gamers, that's a missed opportunity, isn't it? We crave lore! We want to know how the rest of the globe dealt with the outbreak. It’s like a game sequel introducing a fascinating new region but then never letting us explore it. Hopefully, the confirmed third movie will finally give us those answers, a pampered 'youngest child' of a game entry getting all the juicy bits.
All in all, this film review gives me hope, not just for the cinematic future of '28 Days Later,' but for how we approach sequel development in gaming. 'The Bone Temple' apparently nails that tricky middle spot, proving that a sequel doesn’t just have to be 'more of the same' or 'wildly different.' It can carefully widen the world, shift character focus, play with tone, and deliver an impactful narrative without forgetting its roots. Reckon that's a lesson some big studios could do with, eh?
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**Source:** Polygon **Original Author:** Jake Kleinman
Tags: sequels, game design, horror games, worldbuilding, narrative design
Original article: Polygon