Nia DaCosta on Crafting Her Own Vision for 28 Years Later Sequel
Nia DaCosta reveals how she shaped '28 Years Later: The Bone Temple,' discussing her creative process, the film's distinct tone, and the trust placed in her by Danny Boyle and Alex Garland.
When 28 Years Later drew to a close with Jack O'Connell's Jimmys leaping and slicing their way through a horde of infected, it was a spectacle that left audiences both bemused and entertained. The sequel, The Bone Temple, brings the Jimmys back, but this time, their presence is far more menacing—gone are the gymnastic theatrics, replaced by something altogether darker. Nia DaCosta, at the helm for this second chapter, sat down in London last November to reflect on her approach to the much-anticipated follow-up, which picks up almost immediately after the previous film’s frenzied finale. The script, once again penned by Alex Garland, wastes no time: Spike is thrust into a harrowing initiation with the Jimmys’ cult before setting off with the enigmatic Sir Lord Jimmy Crystal and his peculiar seven fingers.
DaCosta recalls,
"[The Jimmys] are mostly in my film. They weren't in the first script as much, actually, in the first draft, and then they were built in a bit more for that last scene,"
she says.
"But it was funny because Danny [Boyle] and I would be like casting, and he'd be like, 'Oh, I want people who are really physical, like backflips.' And I was like, 'Why?!' I knew I wasn't going to be needing any of that [in The Bone Temple]. And then I saw it and said, 'Oh my gosh, I love it.'"
Shifting the Focus: From Acrobatics to Atmosphere
While familiar faces return—Spike, Dr. Kelson, Alpha Samson—the heart of The Bone Temple lies with the Jimmys, who now drive a story less about grief and more about the uneasy dance between fear and faith. The tone, DaCosta insists, is a marked departure from what came before. The film’s narrative, elemental in its struggle between good and evil, is shaped by her own sensibilities rather than a desire to mimic the original’s style.
She explains,
"The two scripts were quite different and had different characters. So I felt like there was a lot of liberty, actually, to make something that felt unique. The first thing I said when I met with the producers, including Danny and Alex, was: 'I love this, but if you're looking for like a Danny Boyle-ish film, I'm not the right person; I don't know how to do that. He's an idiosyncratic genius, and I'm not Danny Boyle. But here's what I see and here's what I'd like to do, and if that's what you're into, then great.' And then they were into it, and so really I had the freedom to make the movie as I saw it."
Creative Freedom and the Absence of Backflips
Given the wild, almost balletic violence that capped off Boyle’s film, one might wonder if DaCosta ever considered bringing a similar energy to her own instalment. Was there ever a temptation to indulge in slow-motion acrobatics set to pounding metal? Her answer is unequivocal.
"Absolutely not. No, no, no,"
she laughs.
"There's no slow-mo backflips to metal music."
Instead, The Bone Temple carves out its own identity, with DaCosta steering clear of spectacle for spectacle’s sake. The result is a film that stands apart, shaped by her vision and the trust placed in her by Boyle and Garland—a rare thing in the world of sequels, and one she clearly relishes.