Resident Evil is a comedy first and a thrilling nightmare second

Zach Cregger’s Resident Evil returns the series to a leaner, more survival-focused approach that blends genuine scares with frequent dark comedy. Rather than centering on elite agents or sprawling set pieces, the film follows Bryan, a wide-eyed medical courier played by Austin Abrams, who accepts a high-paying winter delivery into Raccoon City only to find the roads and towns overrun by horrifyingly mutated infected.

Cregger and co-writer Shay Hatten build tension through familiar survival-horror devices: scarce ammunition, cramped interiors, and scenes of searching through drawers and dim hallways where danger could be waiting at any turn. Those sequences are where the movie most clearly channels the feel of Capcom’s games, and the decision to focus on an untrained civilian makes each poor decision and panicked reaction feel purposeful and often relatable.

What separates this Resident Evil from many previous adaptations is its persistent use of humor to heighten dread. The film leans into the absurdity of some monster transformations—at times resembling visuals from Katamari Damacy or Breath of the Wild—and finds laughs in the protagonist’s terrified, bumbling responses. An early scene in which Bryan hits a shambling woman (played by Andrea Miltnerová) establishes that tonal blend immediately: tension gives way to a disarmingly comic moment before the terror returns.

Coming after Weapons, Cregger’s take is both a fresh starting point for the franchise and an example of how video-game movies have evolved away from spectacle-first adaptations. The reboot is packed with nods to the games while remaining usable as a standalone film that could function as a one-off or the first chapter of a new film strand. Resident Evil opens in theaters on September 18th.