Resident Evil just won’t stay down. After years of remake fatigue, the game series has found new life in Zach Cregger’s latest film, which trades the sprawling excess of Paul W. S. Anderson’s earlier attempts for a tighter, funnier, meaner take on the franchise.
Cregger’s approach is simple: treat Resident Evil as a “bad day on the job” movie. Bryan (Austin Abrams), a medical courier already worked half to death by his shitty gig job, finds that one final delivery spirals into a nightmarish descent through rural roads and the heart of Raccoon City. The film is a showcase for Abrams, who has stolen scenes in Wolfs and Cregger’s Weapons, and here he gets the whole movie.
Bryan’s Delivery Goes Wrong
Bryan’s first act is the film’s strongest. He sets out to deliver a package with the highest priority designation to a hospital, and everything goes wrong. A car accident on icy roads, a well-meaning cop, and a trek to a local farmhouse for help — each problem leads directly to the next in a way that feels inevitable. The practical obstacles are familiar: endless drawers to search for ammo, frustrating padlocks, and the constant dread that Resident Evil 2 is unfolding just beyond the frame.
Comedy That Undercuts the Set-Up
Cregger’s comedy undermines familiar horror tropes to support his profane dialogue and suitably freaked-out performances. Abrams reacts with mumbly, aggravated sarcasm, matching his baggy eyes and high-pitched scream. The film understands that one zombie is far more terrifying than a horde. A single frothing weirdo turning against you in a suburban home brings the horror down to ground level.
The Sprawl Takes Over
The film stumbles when it leaves Bryan’s contained world behind. As Bryan’s final run of the day takes on world-altering significance, the momentum hitches. Extended riffing, unearned emotion, and embodied sub-Cronenbergian themes fill the middle stretch. The effects start as sinewy, Thing-adjacent organic messes, then morph into unwieldy blobs of pixels. The immersive tactile details — the snow-covered landscape muffling car crashes and charging creatures — give way to over-designed set pieces.
Abrams and Cregger Hold Up
Abrams’ magnetism and Cregger’s cynical wit persist throughout, but as the scope grows, they take up less space. Cregger’s comfort zone is too clever for cheesy or broadly earnest set-ups. He thrives building imagery that makes you lean in rather than leap back, building to venomously cathartic punchlines. The film still has plenty of that — in its burned-out hero, its gleeful antipathy towards children, and its almost impressionistically bleak environments.
What We Lost
When Resident Evil gets boxed in by the larger demands of IP, it’s as tragic as watching a beloved character succumb to the dehumanizing effects of a virus. But that transformation hurts because we cared about what we’d lost. The 90-minute B-movie juggles gags and gross-outs with remarkable dexterity, and its best moments are small, grounded, and genuinely funny.
The Film’s Creative Team
| Role | Information |
|---|---|
| Director | Zach Cregger |
| Writers | Zach Cregger, Shay Hatten |
| Starring | Austin Abrams, Zach Cherry, Kali Reis, Paul Walter Hauser |
| Release Date | September 18, 2026 |
Where Cregger’s Comfort Zone Lies
- Clever set-ups that undermine expectations
- Profane dialogue and freaked-out performances
- Small, contained horror moments
- Venomous punchlines that lean in
Cregger’s Resident Evil is a flawed but worthwhile entry in the franchise. It’s a film that knows exactly what it wants to be and mostly delivers. Abrams anchors a performance that makes Bryan’s bad day feel real, and Cregger’s direction keeps the first act sharp while the second struggles to keep up. It’s easily one of the best films to play with these particular biohazards.
See the video the story is built around at The A.V. Club.
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