Publication Date: 09-20-2026

Resident Evil (2026) review

Dir. Zach Cregger

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★★★½

I’m a simple individual. When I see a new Resident Evil movie hit theaters, I look the other way. My video gaming days are long behind me, and even when I was deep into gaming, I was never very interested in checking out any of the Resident Evil games. By the time the survival horror series was several installments deep, I felt I had missed the train. The movies did even less to pique my curiosity. Something about Milla Jovovich’s lack of a personality and the abundance of technobabble regarding anecdotes and zombies alienated me before I even gave it a chance.

Props to Zach Cregger, the man behind two of the best horror movies of the decade in Barbarian and Weapons, for he is one of the only filmmakers who could’ve gotten my ass in a theater for another reboot of the long-running franchise following the last ill-fated film and the short-lived Netflix series. Last year, Cregger spoke about never having seen the previous movies, and how his film would be based upon the games in the series he played, specifically the second, third, and fourth installments, released in the late 1990s. His primary source of inspiration? Evil Dead II. Indeed, Cregger had me then, and it didn’t take long into watching the briskly paced, 90-minute film before he had me enveloped in its execution.

Avoiding any attempt to connect his work to the previous films — Easter eggs apparently run amok, but they don’t mean a thing to me — Resident Evil essentially revolves around a background, non-playable character (NPC) in the game’s universe. His name is Bryan (Austin Abrams), an aggressively ordinary medical courier who ignores medical staff warnings for a late night delivery that requires traversing the icy, snowy roads of Racoon City. The slender narrative brings the urgency immediately, with Bryan on the phone with his newly pregnant girlfriend before hitting the road and inadvertently striking a bloody, zombified woman who wanders into the middle of the road. An unlikely chain of events ensues with Bryan having to deliver the MacGuffin on foot to the top-floor of a hospital skyscraper.

Cregger and co-writer Shay Hatten (a John Wick alum) smartly structure this movie similar to a video game without feeling aggressively beholden to it. Our protagonist is relatable, but easily frightened and vulnerable. The way Abrams — who stole scenes in Weapons like the thieving junkie he played — at times pauses to investigate his surroundings before engaging, or at others, acts impulsively and fires a stray bullet into the hood of his car, is reminiscent of how one might play these games. With stealth horror, patience is rewarded, and shortcuts, such as taking an elevator after being implored not to do so, come with consequences.

The threadbare premise is conceived in what amounts to a journey of vignettes, all vaguely familiar to that of a video game: the “driving portion,” the questionably unoccupied home, the worthless sewer level, a stretch in an apocalyptic city, and the “final boss” in the form of a Raccoon City hospital. We watch as Bryan becomes increasingly familiar with his surroundings, and stumblebum his way into learning how to use a variety of firearms. This is such a welcomed change of pace from video game movies that focus on impenetrable action figures or women warriors in tight-fitting spandex. It recalls watching Peter Parker klutzily figure out how to use his web-slinging powers in Spider-Man: Homecoming.

The creature work here is pleasantly old-fashioned. Raimi’s influence on Cregger remains strong, but there’s flavorings of John Carpenter’s The Thing present as well. Christopher Nolan shouldn’t be the only one getting praise for his use of practical special effects and costumes this summer. This is some of the most grotesque work we’ve seen in a horror film since The Substance, which only evolves the more we see the makings of how the virus at play can turn a person into a squid-like beast with tentacles ala the Graboids in Tremors.

Through it all, Abrams remains a wonderful conduit into this hellscape. Some of his vulgar interjections become just a bit irksome; the pervasive exclamations of “what the fuck?,” “fuck me!,” “oh fuck!” might mimic how fans of these games sound whilst playing them, but reminded me too much of Iron Lung as a result. Blessed so, Cregger and Hayten don’t try to make him the second coming of Ash, let alone someone he isn’t. He’s subtly more confident in the third act, given what he’s been, but he’s still prone to error and poor judgment, but not to an irritating degree. He’s got a bright future. And his shaggy hair makes him look like Frankie Celenza, which made me smile.

Bad movie adaptations of video games make you wish you had the metaphorical controller so you could exit the setting and go do something fun. There are far too many examples to name, and so many that it would be tough to actually articulate what makes a quality adaptation. With Cregger’s iteration of Resident Evil, you feel the atmosphere, helplessness, and fear from the jump. Throwaway lines and Abrams’ vocalized commentary provide the right spike of humor to undercut the gloom, furthering Cregger’s proclivity to meld the two tones with ease. I’d say he’s created a blueprint for a specific subgenre of video game adaptations, but few can probably replicate the formula without the secret sauce that Cregger possesses.

My review of Barbarian (2022)
My review of Weapons (2025)

Starring: Austin Abrams, Zach Cherry, Kali Reis, Paul Walter Hauser, Johnno Wilson, and Sarah Paxton. Directed by: Zach Cregger.