Resident Evil movie review: a film that plays like the game

Somewhere in the middle of the widely panned Doom movie, there's a moment where the camera flips to first-person, as if to say: look, it's just like playing the game! The problem, of course, is that it isn't — not really. And that gap between cinematic heroism and the messy reality of actually holding a controller is exactly what Zach Cregger's new Resident Evil movie understands, and joyfully exploits.

The Everyman Player

What makes the film such a treat is how faithfully it captures the comedy of being bad at video games: the panicked overconfidence, the terrible decisions, the flailing that somehow, eventually, gets you through. Our stand-in is Bryan, a dishevelled but charming medical courier played with real skill by Austin Abrams, who stumbles into Raccoon City's T-virus outbreak on a snowy night.

His journey kicks off in a crowded hospital and, true to series tradition, winds up in a corporate lab, passing through plenty of recognisable Resident Evil landmarks along the way — a deserted farmhouse, zombie-crowded city streets, and a quick trip through the sewers. Cregger even borrows the structure of a game itself: once Bryan's initial mission is established, the film unfolds largely in real time, hopping from fight to set-piece to boss battle, drawer-rummaging for ammo included.

Bryan bumbles onward with a grim, endearingly oblivious determination, delivering a near-constant monologue of swear words and fear-strangled noises that sound genuinely invented. For anyone who has recently yelped their way through a horror game — this reviewer just spent a week doing exactly that with Silent Hill: Townfall — it's a delightfully accurate piece of representation.

Cregger Is the Right Fit

In clumsier hands, this self-aware approach could have been insufferable. But Cregger, who co-wrote the script with Shay Hatten, has already shown his command of horror-comedy in Barbarian and Weapons. His instincts suit Resident Evil beautifully — a series that has always traded in camp, even when it's played things straighter lately. The games' stories are, let's be honest, B-movie fare at best, and there's real pleasure in seeing someone have fun with that on the big screen.

The film swings between genuine tension and slapstick absurdity, and while the sensibility is unmistakably Cregger's, it's hard not to think of Sam Raimi. Drag Me to Hell remains the gold standard of horror-comedy timing, and while Cregger's Resident Evil leans much harder into gross-out laughs than pure scares, it finds a rhythm that makes both halves hit harder. Plenty of moments land you squarely between a laugh and a gasp (hello, dog!).

Set-Pieces Worth the Ticket

The plot is tissue-thin, but Abrams' endlessly likeable performance, a handful of silly running gags, and a string of excellent set-pieces keep the film humming. Highlights include twitchy, tumbling creatures that rival Arcadian's horse horrors, an absurd car chase, the worst elevator ride imaginable, and a breathlessly staged zombie rainstorm that impresses even if the trailer spoiled it. The gloriously goopy body-horror monsters — largely new creations — feel perfectly Resident Evil regardless.

Cregger's film won't be for every fan: it's silly, slight, and features no Leon, Claire, or other familiar faces. But it's arguably the best cinematic depiction of playing a video game ever made, and by wisely sticking to the margins of Resident Evil's wider lore, it captures the spirit of its source better than most adaptations manage. As Bryan puts it in a rare moment of triumph: "Video gaaaaaaaames!"

Source: the original publisher