Resident Evil

Nick 9/20/2026 6:55:51AM 8.4

Zach Cregger takes Capcom's zombie-outbreak survival horror and does exactly what a video game adaptation should do: capture the *feeling* of the games instead of slavishly recreating cutscenes. Rather than shoehorning in Leon or Claire, he builds an original story around Bryan (Austin Abrams), a hapless medical courier who stumbles into an outbreak near Raccoon City — and it works because Cregger clearly loves this world rather than just licensing it. The tense, blood-soaked gore is offset by moments of levity and humor, that signature Cregger tonal whiplash from Barbarian and Weapons — genuinely unsettling dread punctuated by "what the fuck" comedic beats that shouldn't work together but do. It's easily the best live-action Resident Evil yet. Only real complaint: the ending. Hard swerve that undercuts the tension built for two hours. Docking half a star for that alone — everything before it is a near-perfect survival horror movie.

Ryan Ting 9/27/2026 11:56:04PM 8.4

The 8th live action film of the Resident Evil series serves as a reboot by director Zach Cregger, the man behind the film, Weapons. This film plots a medical courier who must fight through an outbreak of infected monsters in a fictional town of Raccoon City. Ultimately, at the end of the movie, he becomes fully infected & killed the last scientist, causing the cure to fall from the rooftop.

The Fixate & Binge Podcast, w/ Joe Curdy 10/23/2026 8:34:45PM 8.4

Zach Cregger's **RESIDENT EVIL** is this year's most terrifying—and humorous—horror film. Cregger's take on the storied video game-turned-film franchise refreshingly charts its own terror-strewn path into body horror and well-executed jump scares. After the critical and financial success of last year's **WEAPONS**, the announcement of Cregger's plans to write and direct his next film from video game source material was not entirely met with universal optimism. The track record of video game film adaptations is enough to give anyone pause—as a literal graveyard of predecessors still serves as an awkward reminder of poor choices and poorer intentions, from 1993's risible **SUPER MARIO BROS**. to the embarrassment that is 2005's **DOOM**. More concerning, the **RESIDENT EVIL** film franchise has already worn out its welcome with moviegoers, both critically and financially, with six (yes, SIX) films starring Milla Jovovich, and even a failed seventh film in 2021, **RESIDENT EVIL: WELCOME TO RACCOON CITY**, that served as a reboot. This is the equivalent of hearing Judd Apatow wants to make a **POLICE ACADEMY** movie. No one could be more relieved to be wrong to ever doubt Cregger's decisions and instincts as a writer and director. Mea culpa, Mr. Cregger, mea culpa. And what makes Cregger's take on the intellectual property so refreshingly new is his understanding of horror when balanced against humor. Cregger seems to know exactly when his audiences need to come up for air after terrifying moments of tension and atmosphere, with humor serving as the necessary oxygen to give audiences a breather before lurching forward into some new fresh hell. Austin Abrams stars as Bryan, an underachieving, hapless medical transport delivery driver who accepts an offer of double compensation to deliver a medical package outside of his normal delivery zone, in the infamous **RACCOON CITY**. Careening through the snow-strewn mountain roads at night, one terrifying encounter after another ratchets up the growing sense of dread as Bryan draws closer and closer to his destination. Abrams is deserving of praise for leaning into the anxiety of his experiences, fumbling with a First Player perspective hilariously into one moment of terror after another with very relatable naïveté.  This is Cregger's best film as a horror director—and despite the ambiguity of the film's WTF ending (and no mid- or end-credits secret scene to slake the appetites of fans)—one can only hope Cregger agrees to take audiences on another ride through Raccoon City with the same anarchy and fun as his **RESIDENT EVIL**.