Review: Resident Evil (2026)

I’ve always believed that Resident Evil was particularly ill-suited to cinematic reinterpretation. While fans of Capcom’s blockbuster survival horror franchise are certainly passionate about their favorite characters and the overarching series “lore,” the actual stories of the games are rather thin on substance (with barely enough narrative meat to sustain a ten-minute short, let alone a feature), existing primarily to justify a repetitive loop of exploring creepy environments (replete with copious backtracking), solving convoluted puzzles, and—in the case of the early PlayStation titles, at least—battling cumbersome tank controls. This is, of course, perfectly fine in the context of an interactive medium (indeed, I’ve quite enjoyed every installment, though I personally prefer RE4 and its successors, which introduced some desperately needed quality-of-life innovations to the established gameplay formula), but it would be insufferably tedious to experience as a passive viewer.

Miraculously, however, Barbarian’s Zach Cregger has totally disproven my assumption, crafting a film that engages with the visual language of game mechanics in a thoroughly appealing way. When Austin Abrams’ bumbling medical courier wastes a gunshot, depleting his precious supply of ammunition; when he rummages through various drawers, cabinets, and storage containers in search of new weapons and extra bullets; when his progress is impeded by an insurmountable chest-high chain link fence secured with the world’s most durable padlock—that is quintessential Resident Evil design philosophy in action. Cregger enriches these nods to the source material with a confident command of style, technique, and form. He utilizes space, framing, and shadow to deliciously suspenseful effect, building tension through the power of suggestion: the camera sticks close to our protagonist, maintaining a claustrophobic over-the-shoulder perspective, concealing any immediate danger from the audience’s sight until it pounces at the last possible second. I generally consider “jump scares” to be the least sophisticated tools in a horror director’s arsenal, but here, they rarely read as cheap or manipulative—on the contrary, they consistently feel earned.

Several users on Twitter have commented that Cregger’s Resident Evil is a solid standalone film, but a poor adaptation. Bullshit. What asinine criticism! A movie that excels on its own merits is a good adaptation by default, regardless of its “accuracy” to the original text—and where it truly counts, this delightfully maximalist (reminiscent of Raimi), grotesquely gory (rivaling John Carpenter), and sadistically mean-spirited genre masterpiece absolutely delivers in spectacular fashion.