Zach Cregger's 'Resident Evil' Reboot: A Deep Dive into the Funky Monster Fun
Zach Cregger, known for "Weapons," brings a fresh, humane, and naturalistic approach to his "Resident Evil" reboot, moving away from the franchise's typical hyperviolent style. His film introduces a new protagonist and unique monster encounters, establishing a distinct identity. This new take emerges within a legacy shaped by Paul W. S. Anderson's critically acclaimed adaptations, particularly "Resident Evil: Retribution," celebrated for its unparalleled translation of video game mechanics to the big screen.
Zach Cregger, fresh off the acclaimed success of his horror film “Weapons” — celebrated for its humanity amidst majestic creepiness and emotionally suspenseful storytelling — took a surprising turn with his next project: a reboot of the “Resident Evil” franchise. Initially, this announcement raised eyebrows, given the stark contrast between the nuanced horror of “Weapons” and the preceding “Resident Evil” films, which were widely perceived as hyperviolent, hyperkinetic video-game zombie sludge, devoid of emotional depth. However, Cregger’s motivation stemmed from a childhood love for the games, aiming to create an “unabashed monster pulp” and alleviate the pressure of following up a phenomenon like “Weapons.”
Cregger’s vision for “Resident Evil” is distinctly different and markedly improved over its predecessors. Described as a “creepy-crawly squishfest,” it deliberately takes its time and possesses a “weird innocence,” drawing comparisons to films like “Planet Terror.” Eschewing the typical “relentless” video-game-movie style, Cregger employs a more ambling and naturalistic approach. This is evident from the opening shot, which follows Bryan (Austin Abrams), a medical courier, as he navigates a hospital to deliver an organ, only to be entrusted with an even more crucial Schedule A package for a distant mountain hospital. Abrams, known for his role as a homeless drug addict in “Weapons,” transforms into a winningly ordinary hero for this film, exuding a cute abashed and fearful manner reminiscent of an indie rocker, with hints of a young Sam Rockwell.
Bryan, a non-macho protagonist who often squeals in terror, is largely on his own, which paradoxically lends the film its video-game structure, as he wanders from one outlandish danger zone to the next. The movie, characterized as a “light and funky viral beastie thriller” and a “sweetly executed piece of escapist trivia,” establishes a fairy-tale atmosphere during a snowy night drive. Cregger injects a human element through Bryan’s cell-phone argument with his pregnant girlfriend, creating a trace of audience investment before softening us for the kill. Bryan’s journey quickly becomes treacherous when he hits a darting woman on the snowy road, revealing her as the first zombie — an older figure with jagged blood streaks, whom he unthinkingly saves.
The film unfolds through episodic “environments” that feel more like a slowly evolving funhouse than a trapped video game. Bryan faces a dog whose face splits apart with tentacles, a clear homage to John Carpenter’s “The Thing.” The tentacles become a recurring motif, allowing zombies to absorb victims into multi-limbed globs that roll like tumbleweeds, an effect evocative of the 1989 body-horror cult film “Society.” Further perils include acid-vomiting monsters in an elevator shaft, reminiscent of the alien blood in “Alien.” Bryan’s amateurish handling of a gun and lack of overt heroic qualities make him a relatable proxy for the audience, constantly trying to survive the evolving dangers. The monsters, though stemming from the same virus, are uniquely diverse, designed to inspire awe.
As Bryan navigates these threats, he encounters Carl (Paul Walter Hauser), a scientist for the Umbrella Corporation, the film’s subtle nod to established “Resident Evil” lore. Hauser’s performance is amusingly overwrought until he too succumbs to the monstrous tentacles. The eventual arrival at a pristine Umbrella laboratory, seemingly a safe haven where scientists like Dave (Zach Cherry) are ready to create an antidote from Bryan’s package, promises a resolution that doesn’t quite materialize. Ultimately, Cregger’s “Resident Evil” is a “lark,” a “monster mash,” and a “shape-shifting throwaway” that escalates into a “symphonic loopiness” over 90 minutes. It distinguishes itself by refusing to take itself seriously, yet, unlike its predecessors, feels truly “alive.”
While Cregger introduces a fresh perspective, the “Resident Evil” franchise has a complex cinematic history, punctuated by films that, despite widespread scoffing, have genuinely captured unique genre sensibilities. Paul W. S. Anderson’s initial film is well-regarded, but subsequent attempts, like Alexander Witt’s follow-up or Johannes Roberts’ reboot, faced criticism. The series found its footing again when Anderson returned to direct “Resident Evil: Afterlife” in 2010, inaugurating an “absurdly under-rated trio of genre thrill-rides.”
Among these, “Resident Evil: Retribution” stands out as a high point, described as the “Empire Strikes Back” of its rough trilogy—a darker, stranger middle chapter that masterfully escalates stakes and redefines the terms of battle. Released on September 12, 2012, with a runtime of 95 minutes, Anderson’s “Retribution” is considered by many to be his masterpiece and the “single most accurate and powerful translation of the mechanics and idiosyncrasies of video-game storytelling into cinematic form.” Its narrative follows Alice (Milla Jovovich), who awakes in Umbrella’s secret facility, exploring her mysterious past and the pervasive T-virus outbreak that has devastated Raccoon City and the world. The film delves into the series’ expanding scope, where trust is eroded, and even Alice herself is revealed to be a clone, battling through memories and virtual Umbrella spaces designed to test her skills, alongside game characters with their own agendas.
Anderson’s “Retribution” embraces video-game logic from its reversed opening frames, showcasing suburban zombie attacks reminiscent of Zack Snyder’s “Dawn of the Dead” remake, followed by underground facilities and the vividly conjured, PlayStation 3-esque rain-soaked streets of Tokyo. Continuity is deliberately disregarded, with Anderson trusting the video-game conversant viewer to keep pace. From the franchise’s inception, Anderson demonstrated a “magisterial command of space and blocking,” prioritizing a complete experiential immersion over emotional investment in lore. His protagonists, whether original or game-derived, battle an all-consuming corporate force, creating an exhilarating spectacle. Films like “Afterlife,” “Retribution,” and “The Final Chapter” are lauded as almost perfect examples of video game logic translated to the big screen.
As Cregger’s new film is projected for box office success, it undoubtedly faces stiff competition from the legacy of Anderson’s achievements in transposing the feel of a video game onto the big screen. Despite the long-maligned history of video game film adaptations, few have achieved Anderson’s pitch-perfect execution, challenging Cregger to deliver a compelling and equally impactful cinematic experience within the storied “Resident Evil” universe.