Resident Evil — The Infection of Skinless Marketing

Resident Evil: full review

The theater's air conditioning roared like a metal beast while the teenager in row 3 chewed popcorn to the rhythm of a drum. I, with €9.50 burned in my wallet, sat down to witness what promised to be the definitive reinvention of Resident Evil. Instead, I received an injection of synthetic adrenaline and a massive dose of disillusionment. Zach Cregger, the very same who gifted us Barbarian (2022) and Weapons (2024), seems to have sold his soul to Columbia Pictures in exchange for a budget that evaporated into low-caliber CGI effects. The promise was clear: to bring Capcom's horror to the big screen with the viscera that only a cult director can offer. The reality, however, was a digital mirage that faded before the first act even ended.

The film kicks off with Bryan (Austin Abrams) running down a hallway bathed in twilight lighting that tries to mimic the atmosphere of an abandoned laboratory. The shot is so static it looks like an Instagram photo of a low-budget set. The subglottic sound of the respirators is so flat that the audience needs to turn the volume up to levels that make the seats tremble. It's an opening that doesn't hook you, but rather bores you, a long preamble for a slaughter that never gets bloody enough.

Bochorno. Zach Cherry's performance as Dave is a monologue of clichés: "We have to move, the virus is hunting us." His voice sounds like a broken megaphone, and the chemistry with Paul Walter Hauser (Carl) is so forced it feels like an insurance commercial casting. Johnno Wilson, as Max, tries to bring some dark humor, but his timing gets lost among the screams of cheap latex zombies that fall apart at the first contact with light. There is no connection, no tension, just actors reciting lines that seem written by a marketing algorithm.

Shay Hatten's script, which in theory should be the backbone of the franchise, crumbles into dialogues that sound like a video game instruction manual. Bryan says: "There's no time for doubts, the only way out is blood." The line, so pretentious, hangs there like a cheap wig that flies off at the first gust of wind. The narrative moves at a turtle's pace, with editing cuts that try to speed up the action but only induce nausea. It's a flat text, with no layers, that treats the viewer as if they couldn't tell the difference between a scream of pain and a scream of marketing.

Direction and staging

Cregger tries to emulate the aesthetic of Capcom classics, but his vision remains on the surface. Practical latex effects are scarce; most of the zombies are CGI that move like ragdolls. The twilight lighting, supposedly to create a horror atmosphere, becomes a gray fog that drowns any attempt at tension.

Dariusz Wolski's camera, famous for his work in The Martian, here seems to have been rented for an hour and used without calibration. There is not a single shot that justifies the use of the anamorphic lens; everything is straight, flat, and devoid of depth. The art direction tries to sell the decadence of Raccoon City, but the sets look like they were pulled from a theme park closed for lack of funds. There is no texture, no real dirt, just a layer of digital dust that fools no one.

Performances and script

Austin Abrams bears the burden of being the protagonist, but his charisma gets trapped in the script's synthetic skin. Every line he utters sounds like an autopsy of clichés. Kali Reis tries to bring strength to Pauline, but her character is reduced to a "strong woman" without depth. The dialogues are so predictable that the audience can recite them before the actors say them.

Paul Walter Hauser, who is usually a diamond in the rough, here seems like an extra who didn't read the script. There is no chemistry, no tension, just a succession of exaggerated reactions that fail to translate into emotion. The script gives them no tools, only lines to say while the clock ticks against a plot that makes no logical sense.

Technique and sound

The sound design is a subglottic chaos: the zombies' growls overlap with the background music, which sounds like a synthesizer track pulled from a 90s video game. The lack of an original soundtrack leaves the movie without a rhythmic pulse.

The editing tries to create pace with quick cuts, but continuity breaks in every action scene. The sound mix is so aggressive that the dialogue gets lost, and the music doesn't accompany, it competes. It's a fatiguing sensory experience, where the ears get tired before the eyes do.

The Best

• Dariusz Wolski's Cinematography: An attempt to create atmosphere with twilight lighting that, although failed, shows flashes of talent in the detail shots.
• Production Design: The laboratory hallways are filled with props that recall 80s sets, offering a nostalgic nod that almost works.

The Worst

• CGI Effects: Plastic zombies that fall apart at the first shot, a visual embarrassment that breaks immersion completely.
• Shay Hatten's Script: Video game manual dialogues, with no originality or coherence, that treat the viewer like an idiot.
• Austin Abrams' Acting: Cardboard charisma, incapable of holding the emotional weight of a movie that has nothing to say.

The Verdict of Claqueta Ácida

Resident Evil 2026 is a bloodless marketing autopsy, a movie that makes you pay €9.50 to receive a dose of broken promises and low-budget effects. The only thing that survives is the feeling of having lost 93 minutes of life that will never return. If you're looking for a real slaughter, you're better off going to an abattoir. 💀

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⚔️ Editorial Duel: Second Opinion Odin Lagbert's score: 7.7/10

The rebuttal from Odin Lagbert (Senior Cynicism Academic)

In stark disagreement with the review given by Lúa Ácida.

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Duelo editorial natural entre las visiones antagónicas de Lúa Ácida y el consejo de redacción. "Orson Welles vomitó en su tumba al proyectarse esto."