Resident Evil: Retribution (2012)

by Craig Thomas

I have a confession. The Resident Evil movies fascinate me. Now, I am not saying they are good. In fact, they are terrible in every single regard. Yet they are massive, massive hits. That shouldn’t be too surprising, seeing as they have an in-built and continually regenerating fan-base (the sixth installment of the computer game franchise came out this year). Even so, after four of the things you would have thought people would have caught on.

But I am part of the problem. I have seen all of them. Without doubt, each one should have been a nail in the career of Paul W. S. Anderson. In fact, they’re just the opposite, whatever that is symbolized by. Let me make it clear for those who don’t know:

He is a terrible film-maker.

By now you might have guessed that I do not like the work of Paul W. S. Anderson, or of the Resident Evil films. You would be correct. Yet I cannot look away. In fact, I go hunting them out, similar to the sexual deviants looking for car crashes in David Cronenberg’s brilliantly twisted adaptation of the J. G. Ballard novel, Crash. I am like that. But without the sexual deviancy, obviously.

If you have ever seen one of his films, you would know that, unlike his (not really) namesake, Paul Thomas Anderson, he does not know how to deal with actors. Whilst the latter can get a great performance of out pretty much anyone, getting someone to “phone it in” in Resident Evil would be something of an achievement.

But there is something about the Resident Evil franchise and the influence of Paul W. S. Anderson that makes the whole experience poisonous to the creative spirit. It’s bizarre, because at times it is less convincing than watching the CGI cut-scenes from when the game was first released back in 1996. It’s like he has tried to transpose directly from the game to the screen.

Perhaps it is all down to the writing, which is abhorrent. The dialogue is clunky and patronizing, and everything in the relatively straight-forward plot is explained, often twice. PWSA has written all five of them, but directed only three, so it would seem this to be the most common factor. But having written and directed Resident Evil: Retribution, all the blame falls on him.

So having seen the fifth one, is there any difference between it and the others? In a word, no. The dialogue is awful and the acting is worse. The story is stupid and the characters are unbelievable.

In this particular installment they are trapped in an old Soviet submarine base which has been modified by the evil Umbrella Corporation. Thanks to the miracle of cloning, all the old characters return, though not necessarily with the same personalities. The rest of the plot is pretty much just an excuse for jumping, shooting and generally blowing stuff up. The film basically takes the plot full circle, back to the first installment, but this time on a global scale.

It is remarkable how after five films, nothing has improved. Not a single thing. It isn’t even so-bad-its-good awful, it is just plain awful. Yet I cannot stop watching to see how ridiculous it is going to get. By the end of the franchise I think I am going to use up the global supply of exasperation.

I think the best thing about the whole franchise is the fact that each film ends on a cliff-hanger, which is a cheap way to get you excited about the next one, and there is always a next one. But it kind of becomes like at the end of a TV series, which you watch out of habit just to see what happens, rather than gaining any enjoyment out of it.

“What’s the second best thing about the franchise?” I hear you ask. It’s brevity. They all last about 90 minutes, which is just about long enough for them to not outstay their welcome. I think this is part of the reason for their success and part of the reason I can tolerate this nonsense. This is supported by the fact that I am physically incapable of sitting through one of the Michael Bay monstrosities that regularly push the three hour mark.

But for everything, the biggest crime committed here is that the idea itself is not a bad one. I like to see sexy women killing hideous monsters in a post-apocalyptic wasteland as much as the next guy (ie a lot), but having it done in such a relentlessly awful manner really spoils an opportunity to do something interesting and entertaining and profitable. They have just gone for profitable.

So yeah, if you’ve seen any of the others then you already know whether or not you will like this one. As for me, despite everything, I can’t wait until the next one, sadly.

Grade: F

Resident Evil (2002)

by Steve Habrat

Don’t hate me for telling you this, but I actually sort of enjoy Paul W.S. Anderson’s 2002 big screen adaptation of Resident Evil. Based upon the wildly popular Capcom horror/shooter video game, Resident Evil is a surprisingly entertaining and slightly creepy Night of the Living Dead for Mountain Dew fanatics and die-hard Alien fans. With plenty of guns, zombies, entrails, explosions, and chicks with barely any clothing, Resident Evil is a total guy flick that doesn’t ask too much of the viewer, only that you have a good time and don’t hate yourself in the morning for it. In a way, that is the main problem with Resident Evil, that it doesn’t think too highly of its target audience. Resident Evil has plenty to work with within its sinister corporation premise but it happily ignores this for an hour and forty minutes. It relentlessly misses opportunities to make heady comments about how big corporations deviously enslave us, but instead, it would rather show you Milla Jovovich nude or a zombie get its head blow to smithereens. I guess the blood and flesh show is more fun than the one that makes us think. But what did you expect from a movie that is based on a video game?

Welcome to Raccoon City, a futuristic metropolis that is controlled by the Umbrella Corporation, a pharmaceutical and houseware company that is also secretly developing a slew of biological weapons underneath the city. This underground development facility is called the Hive and it is here that a thief has infiltrated the seemingly impenetrable facility and unleashed the mysterious T-virus. In response to the contamination, the facility’s artificial intelligence, the Red Queen, quickly begins trying to quarantine the virus and kill off all the Hive employees who were exposed to the virus. Just hours after the slaughter, the Umbrella Corporation sends down a small team of commandos led by James “One” Shade (Played by Colin Salmon) and Rain Ocampo (Played by Michelle Rodriguez) to investigate. Along the way, these commandos meet up with amnesiacs Alice (Played by Milla Jovovich), Spence (Played by James Purefoy), and suspicious cop Matt (Played by Eric Mabius). As the group pushes further into the ravaged underground facility, they begin to be attacked by endless swarms of undead drones that crave human flesh. As the group’s battle to stay alive becomes more and more desperate, the undead ghouls stalking them through the tunnels turn out to be the least of their worries.

Director Anderson uses Resident Evil to make a surprisingly effective nod to George Romero’s 1968 zombie classic Night of the Living Dead. Interestingly enough, Romero was originally approached to make the film but he left the project due to creative differences. Anderson, however, keeps the film’s scope small, with swarms of ghouls attacking in narrow hallways and trashed offices, which heightens the terror to nearly unbearable levels. Things really get spooky when the group seals themselves into a computer room as the ghouls bang on the doors around them. He also has the sense to slowly build up to the first zombie attack with plenty of squirm-inducing suspense. Then he boldly kills off half the macho characters to make room for two seriously tough gals who pack mean drop kicks. Despite some iffy performances from the B-squad of actors, Resident Evil manages to really make an ominous impression in its first forty minutes. Sadly, once Anderson nudges the zombies to the side and unleashes the hulking mutant experiment nicknamed “The Licker”, things begin to spin wildly out of control. Anderson then piles on tons of poor CGI and disordered action that completely demolishes the smart touches he applied at the beginning of the film. You’ll reluctantly give in to his overkill and just go with the flow as the fake blood relentlessly splashes across the screen.

Another shock that comes out of Resident Evil is the fact that, while it may not be Oscar worthy, the acting is still surprisingly decent for a movie based on a video game. Jovovich is easily the best as the tough-as-nails amnesiac Alice, a chick who can throw down with the best of them. Anderson spends more time trying to photograph her bare breasts than he does focusing on the performance in front of him but Jovovich comes out of the project okay. Rodriguez plays the same role she always plays, a badass with her face scrunched up into a testy grimace. Salmon gets to channel Night of the Living Dead’s Duane Jones but he looks like a sissy compared to Jovovich and Rodriguez. Purefoy is pretty stiff and is basically asked to just play worried before a last act character twist that has him sparking to life. Mabius is severely inconsistent the entire time, which is a shame because his character is one that is front and center. Another standout is Martin Crewes as Kaplan, a spooked computer expert who is exceptional at conveying the sickened I-didn’t-sign-up-for-this face when the zombies stumble out of the dark.

To match Resident Evil’s industrial horror aesthetic, Anderson enlisted shock rocker Marilyn Manson, who was at the height of his popularity at the time, to compose the score for the film. With the help of Marco Beltrami, Manson delivers a burst of moody synths, shrill drumming, and bawling guitars that would sound much better in a headphones than in a Hollywood motion picture. At times, the score is unbelievably distracting, removing us from the moment and drowning out what little story there actually is. Still, Manson manages to compliment this industrial rot of the set quite well so I suppose he succeeds. Anderson also makes some questionable choices in the editing department, preferring to cut away just when the action was getting good. For the zombie fans out there, the ghouls are perfectly modest, just looking dead enough without getting carried away. There are not tons of elaborate wounds on every single zombie that stumbles in front of the camera but there are a few injuries that you will remember. The rest of the action is exactly what you would expect from an action film made in the wake of The Matrix, with multiple slow motion shots of the gals flipping through the air. Overall, Resident Evil’s first half is much stronger than its second half, but the film as a whole is a solid horror distraction that ranks as one of the better video-game-to-film adaptations out there.

Grade: B-

Resident Evil is available on Blu-ray and DVD.

Battle: Los Angeles (2011)

by Steve Habrat

I think it is safe to assume that the true day that cinema died is March 11^th, 2011. Sure, every year sees it’s fair share of rubbish movies discarded into your local megaplex to fill space, but none have been more absurd, shrill, dumb, meaningless, and excruciating than Battle: Los Angeles. The film is the textbook example of how not to make a movie, especially pure escapist entertainment at that. The film, which has no trace of a plot, looked promising. Did you happen to see the theatrical trailer? It was spellbinding and intriguing. The final product isn’t anywhere near what the trailer promised. Seriously, Hollywood, did anyone actually read the script to this thing? And who actually gave the filmmakers the go ahead? And who convinced a talented actor like Aaron Eckhart to actually star in the damn thing? Nothing about this film is remotely close to engaging and every time it hints at a clever set up, it pulverizes it with a barrage of gunfire, screaming, and camera work so shaky, it practically makes you want to vomit. I’ve been told I am lax when it comes to blockbusters of this breed, but Battle: Los Angeles has tried my patience and left me shell-shocked that Hollywood actually tried to pass it off as entertainment. They must take us for fools!!

Okay, so I’m sure by now you’re curious what the film is about? Well, the answer to that question is basically nothing. Aliens attack earth for our resources (Apparently, they want our water) and a bunch of meathead clichés fight back. They are lead by the retired Ssgt. Michael Nantz (Played by the determined-not-to-let the-film-crumble-into-smoldering-ruin Aaron Eckhart). Unfortunately, he can’t salvage the film’s set up by his acting alone. The rest of the characters don’t matter, as they are there to just be “Hoorah!” shouting targets for the aliens. Their mission is to hold LA at any cost. Why? Good question. They never tell us and we are supposed to just accept it. The film refuses to offer anything in the way of substance and opts for countless gunfights instead. It never attempts to offer up a developed hero we can stand behind and the rest of the marines that populate the squad are there to be shot up by the aliens. The film is the simple equation of explosion, run, scream, shoot, plot how to destroy the alien killing machines, repeat.

Usually, when I go to this type of film, I lower my expectations. I give myself over to it and roll with the punches. Sure, when the lights come up again in the theater, I will admit that what I just saw was pure crap. But, if it’s crap done right and with some obvious care of the material, then I will give the film some critical leeway. I will not tear the film to pieces if it at least made me care about a character, invoked something in the way of an emotion, thrilled me, entertained me, or transported me to a world I never knew I wanted to visit. This is precisely why we go to these types of movies. We go to explore a world we have never seen before with a larger-than-life hero and escape from our daily problems, if only for a little bit. And I will admit that my expectations were lowered when I started to see the irate reviews for this film. It broke my heart because the trailer had been so effective and for a while, the film was actually tolerable. I was curious to see what route the film was going to take. But after about twenty minutes, the project dive-bombed and it never regained itself. The major problem with all of it is the fact that it attempts to blind us to the fact that there is nothing underneath all of the rumble and special effects. There is no humanity to it. It’s all, sadly, for nothing.

Furthermore, the film is not only a chore to endure, but it features dialogue so painful, it’s offensive. It seems like the film was penned by a fifteen year old action junkie who watched District 9 way too many times and plays Call of Duty: Modern Warfare too often. The film is like an unholy mutation of two forms of unrelated entertainment that are both actually quite respectable. Any film that contains the line, which is someone offering up their help in dissecting one of the barely seen extraterrestrials: “Maybe I can help! I’m a vet!”, should have gone back to the drawing board. The film is loaded with these so-bad-they-actually-make-you-groan lines and it shamelessly delivers them with a straight face. Instead of thoughtful banter between the marines, it consists of them yelling: “Let’s show them who they fucked with!” and my personal favorite “We already had breakfast!” (This line, if you have seen the movie, has got to be the cheesiest lines in the history of cinema.).

Since this is a special effects spectacle (Well, it’s convinced that it is.), you are probably wondering how the effects are. This is the films strongest department, as the alien ships are actually quite creative. They resemble the silver disc-like flying saucers that we have seen in countless stock photos. The aliens, however, are not nearly as inspired, as they are a strange machine and flesh fusion that we never get a good look at. They march around in the distance making growling and clicking noises that would make the Prawns in District 9 roll their eyes. They have guns attached to their arms, which is another neat concept, but ultimately is obscured underneath more gunfights and explosions. And don’t even get me started about the final battle between the marines and a ship that rises up out of the ground. At one point, the aliens use a strange, spider-like death machine that fires off several rockets at once. You would think that the aliens would use more of these, as it is clearly a devastating weapon that proves to be quite a challenge to bring down. Unfortunately, it is loudly destroyed and that’s the last we see of this.

Battle: Los Angeles has succeeded in putting the final bullet in the head of blockbusters. Every single aspect of the film is so awful; I started to wonder if this was all just a sick joke on the audience. The film relentlessly bashes us over the head and practically causes a seizure from the shaky, strobe like editing. It raises more questions than it answers (How the hell are the televisions and internet still working even though LA has been bombed into oblivion?). I have never, in the twenty-one years I have been attending movies, wanted a film to end so badly as I did this one. It was excruciating. I will admit that even trying to form a proper way of describing how awful this film was to anyone is difficult, as it is dreadful on so many levels. It was appalling. Please, folks, for the love of God, do not see this movie. Do not show support for this kind of shit. That’s exactly what the film is. Shit. A stinking, steaming, ugly, disgusting, mean, lump of shit. The acting is shit, the script is shit, the cinematography is shit and the plot is shit. Battle: Los Angeles is without question, the worst film in recent memory.  Somewhere, Battlefield Earth is breathing a huge sigh of relief.

Grade: F

Battle: Los Angeles is now ruining movies on Blu-ray and DVD.