Resident Evil (2026)
“The only woman of any significance in Resident Evil isn’t even on screen, and she’s defined by a clichéd storyline about being pregnant.”
Title: Resident Evil (2026)
Director: Zach Cregger 👨🏼🇺🇸
Writers: Zach Cregger 👨🏼🇺🇸 and Shay Hatten 👨🏼🇺🇸
Reviewed by Li 👩🏻🇺🇸
Technical: 4.5/5
If you’ve yet to see a film adaptation of Resident Evil, the hit 1996 survival horror game by Capcom that spawned sequels, movies, and a TV show, skip director Paul W. S. Anderson’s aughts-era film series. All six are rote and forgettable. Instead, Zach Cregger’s irreverent reboot, titled simply Resident Evil, dials up the energy with campy fun and silly throwbacks.
Adaptations always have to balance paying homage to the source material with infusing new life into a title. Cregger manages that effortlessly—expect theater-wide chuckles as the screen switches into first-person shooter mode, complete with a rifle’s muzzle protruding into view, while dedicated fans will smirk when the main character bursts into a room and finds a typewriter on a table. The Easter eggs are everywhere, but they aren’t even necessary. The film brings both the laughs and terror by its own virtue.
At its best, Resident Evil completely upends expectations and horror tropes. Audiences are steered through this roller coaster by a hapless medical courier, Bryan (Austin Abrams), whose knowledge (or lack thereof) of guns finally feels realistic; he struggles to load a magazine and takes time to find the safeties on firearms. Other times, you might think a truck or shotgun will blast through measly padlocks, but scenes hilariously end with a stymied protagonist. All the while, genuine tension, effective jump scares, and grotesque special effects deliver the thrills we seek in a movie like this. It’s not deep, and character development seems moot when people are introduced only to quickly become cannon fodder. But I was both stressed as hell yet giddy throughout—the ultimate horror sweet spot.
Gender: 1.75/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? NOPE
Unfortunately, while Cregger makes refreshing cinematic choices, nothing about how women are portrayed is new. In its defense, Resident Evil features very few humans who survive long enough for us to learn their names. Dominating the screen time is Bryan, a dude. A police officer (Johnno Wilson) he meets on the road is another dude. A female security officer, Maxine (Kali Reis), is shown to be badass, taking down an entire zombie horde with well-aimed bullets, but let’s just say she doesn’t really stick around. And when Bryan makes it to his end destination—Raccoon City’s hospital, where he’s trying to deliver a cure to the virus that turns people into snarling zombies—the lab workers are almost all men.
In fact, the only woman of any significance isn’t even on screen. Bryan’s girlfriend, Michelle, is heard over the phone (and shown with a small photograph during the ringtone). Still, she’s defined by a clichéd storyline about being pregnant, existing only to give Bryan an emotional backstory. The original games gave us a great female protagonist with Jill Valentine, and even Anderson’s films led with Milla Jovovich, so it feels like a particular shame that Cregger doesn’t carry the franchise’s gender equity into his reboot.
Race: 2.5/5
Led by white protagonist Bryan, supporting and minor roles also skew white, including Wilson’s police officer, a hospital executive (Paul Walter Hauser), and Bryan’s girlfriend. Characters of color trail Bryan in terms of screen time and importance, but Maxine is played by Cape Verdean and Wampanoag actor Reis, and among the handful of scientists at Raccoon City’s hospital, a couple are non-white (played by Zach Cherry, who’s multiracial, and Chris Lew Kum Hoi, British East Asian).
Mediaversity Grade: C 2.92/5
While Resident Evil makes no meaningful effort towards inclusion, it at least kills off its characters indiscriminately. Many horror films struggle even to clear that low bar. Without the eye-rolling that comes with watching stereotypes play out on screen, you can sit back and enjoy the wild, hilarious ride.