- Date of Release: 18 September 2026
- Genre: Horror, Thriller, Black Comedy
- Language: English
- Watch On: Theatres Only
Resident Evil
Introduction
The protagonist Bryan (Austin Abrams) in the new English film Resident Evil can best be termed as a non-player character (NPC) – the one who just isn’t as important in a video game, often introduced as a filler only to be bumped off. As a part of its cold open, you see him hustling inside a hospital only to deliver a package to a doctor. On a side note, the panic scattered at the hospital would bear an uncanny resemblance to the drama that would follow – but Bryan is oblivious of that fact. In fact, he represents a grinding lower middle class individual who would often hustle for hours delivering items to users, all in order to earn a meagre sum in return. Hence in the drama, he reluctantly agrees to deliver an exclusive parcel ‘presumably’ containing a heart or liver of an individual – to the Raccoon City, by extending his work time and going in unprepared, all for a handful of extra bucks. This, whilst being completely unaware of his fate – something wherein the NPC would transform into a main character, in what is weirdly a coming of age ‘thriller’.
Story & Screenplay
Based on the video game by the same name, and written by Zack Cregger, the protagonist unwittingly doubles up as an active player in a world that can be categorized as an amusement park for zombies and monsters. And yet through every episode, you notice the character evolving – from his goofy antics to an assured counter-punch. This specifically also houses the tonal variations in the narrative – ranging from bits of comedy that subverts a world evidently dripped in horror. But there is a specific trait to the protagonist that invariably makes him a perennial underdog – he remains a novice as an active video game player; someone who isn’t familiar with the controls. And the humour is instantly sprinkled in this moment.
In an early scene, you witness the protagonist banging his car into a passer-by, who appears out of nowhere from the snowy woods. Even in a straying moment, you see him volunteering to take that injured character to a hospital – a caring trait that forms an interesting contrast from his personal life, given that he has girlfriend issues. His affinity mixed with caution is on full display when he tries to faintly wriggle out of a situation after a run-in with a cop – even whilst being committed to his duty of delivering the package. But little does he know that he has entired a park full of nightmare – with the onset of a wicked virus outbreak that would transform people into shape-shifting and jaw-widening monsters. This is in contrast to the real world wherein the infamous pandemic didn’t need to transform people into monsters – particularly given how they were being ruled by them. But then I digress…
There is a hint of Cregger’s Barbarian (2022) and Weapons (2025), particularly with the onset of attacks that transpire. Be it the eight-legged monstrous figure, or even a character running into wilderness swiftly towards the protagonist – the texture forms an interesting companion piece here within a fresh new world. This, even as the protagonist has run-ins with an infected dog, a cutsie child with a monster bite, two government-approved officers (used primarily to give context to the world and the outbreak), an obese monk-esque figure whose stomach houses a pile of evil surprises – amidst a battle of gore, violence and survival. So even when the protagonist has taken down a little character through a violent headshot – his first reaction of ‘disbelief and him loving kids’ subverts the horror with subtle bouts of comedy.
The coming of age tale of the protagonist coincides with the deep and amusing objects of the world – even as he transforms from a character who can’t operate a gun at the start often finding difficulty to unlock the weapon, or even aim straight at locks that just won’t break open, to someone who would use his precision to overcome his set of obstacles. It is similar to that video game that you play – being increasingly goofy with the control settings, only for you to improve over a period of time.
The proceedings comprise of imaginative events that would definitely send a shiver down your spine. Be it a sequence involving a pile of monsters dropping off from the sky in a pool of blood, or a flight of stairs that flirts with the core idea of The Raid (2011), or an elevator sequence involving an elderly monster spewing some fiery slime that would dissolve the floor, or a maternity ward filled comprising of babies infected by the virus, or even a sequence at the laboratory that results in a bloodbath. In each of these sequences, you witness traces of black humour that remains consistent with the narrative, without letting go of the arcade-type playfulness mixed with absurdity.
The drama marginally breaks its grammar when it chooses to switch the POV of the protagonist, by pushing him to the ‘other side’ – almost as a U-turn to the first person narrative that unfolds throughout the narrative. I personally felt that the move was a deliberate one, particularly given how it blurred the boundaries of the video-game arena by allowing the viewers to be active players – rather imply the same with a faint hint at the end. The screenplay remained wonderfully entertaining and engaging by being mindful of the video-game cosplay, and transforming an NPC into a killing machine with a twist at the end. It was mayhem on steroids, and you have to see it to believe it!
Dialogues, Music & Direction
The dialogues are quirky while hilariously being integrated as mood-cutters. So when the protagonist mouths lines like ‘Did I Just Shoot A Kid In Her Head?’ Or ‘What The Sh*t Is Going On Here?’ – it instantly cuts through the tension and fear, proving a point that comedy and fear stem out of similar ‘goofy’ traits. The sound design is outstanding, ably providing jumpscares with utmost precision and flair – something that had me glued to the screen throughout. In fact, even the use of silence is commendable – creating an ambience of tension that is deliberately subverted through bouts of comedy.
The cinematography is an interesting point of discussing here, particularly given how the frames oscillate between the first person and third person to completely give the viewers a feel of a video game. And even in these moments, the close-ups are enough to generate the right bouts of tension in the narrative – occasionally alternating into wide-angle frames to depict the gore or the eerie-looking figures, something that covers the entire spectrum. In fact, the frames also contribute to the dark humour in the narrative – treating moments of gore with meticulous blocks of humour, thereby tickling your funny bone into a nervous laugh. A word on the production design including the grim hues in play that perfectly contributed to the ambience of the drama. And the makeup and prosthetics department that deserve a raise (watch it to know why).
The editing pattern is crisp and sharp, sticking to the basic contours of the screenplay, and serving the basic flavours in the most delicious way possible. The timing plays a pivotal role in the edits, wherein the jumpscares in most of the scenes lands with utmost precision. This, even whilst maintaining a thread of fear from one scene to another in the most seamless way possible.
Director Zach Cregger scores yet again with his brand of horror that is chilling, often subverted with frequent bouts of humour like in his previous works – Weapons (2025) and Barbarian (2022). In fact, the characterization of the protagonist is designed in this dual trait of being a goofy underdog – even while traversing from point A to point B. In a rare instance, it almost feels that the character and the director are working in tandem – an instance wherein the ‘controls’ of the protagonist lay in the hands of the director, who also remains a goofy character in spirit in the narrative. The faint meta-ness resembling an actual video-game is the trait that the director gets pitch perfect, even while christening the narrative with his trademark bouts of horror and comedy. The direction is excellent here.
Performances
The performances are wonderful to witness by the members of the cast. Shawn Loeser and Andrea Milternova shine as pivotal monstrous figures in the narrative. Zach Cherry, Will Merreck, Griffin Newman, Zoe Bellas, Chris Lew Kum Hoi, and Magdalena Sittovaas are collectively hilarious to witness as the madcap Umbrella scientists. Paul Walter Hauser as Paul is ticklish with his cameo, and he definitely managed to crack me up in several moments. Kali Reis as Maxine has her moments to shine too.
The show though belongs to Austin Abrams who is outstanding as Bryan. Your first impression of the character would possibly be a loser who lacks the main character energy. And interestingly, that acts as the starting point of his coming of age arc – transforming from an unsure, goofy figure to a killing monstrous ‘figure’! There is a streak of innocence through his personality that borrows streaks of humour in the narrative, even as Austin brings forth a sense of urgency that is hard to ignore in the narrarive. The latter successfully distracts you from a half-baked emotional core of the character, instead being wickedly invested in his journey. He is resounding with his body language, making him a treat to witness instantly!
Conclusion
Featuring remarkably nimble and amusing performances, Resident Evil functions as a wicked, live-action video-game cosplay, dropping the audience directly into a nightmarish amusement park crawling with zombies and grotesque monsters. By expertly blending a significant, skin-crawling brand of horror with sharp, eccentric comedy, the narrative handpicks its protagonist like a playable NPC navigating an increasingly chaotic survival map. The resulting spectacle is a wildly unpredictable, high-octane thrill ride that remains supremely entertaining, laugh-out-loud funny, and thoroughly enjoyable to witness from start to finish. Available in a theatre near you and Highly Recommended!