To any die-hard Resident Evil fans, I want to preface with this: I never watched any of the seven Resident Evil movies before seeing Zach Cregger’s 2026 reboot or played any of the games. The movie initially didn’t pique my interest until I saw that Weapons (2025) director Zach Cregger wrote and directed it. That’s when I decided to head to the cinema with completely fresh eyes and zero idea what the movie was about.
It felt like getting into a situationship with someone, your heart beating fast and adrenaline pumping through your veins because you don’t know how it’ll go or whether it’ll end well.
As the lights turn off, you’re met with elation and curiosity about how it’ll start. Cregger introduces us to Bryan (Austin Abrams), an exhausted medical courier carrying two things at once: confidential and sensitive healthcare items, and arguing with his girlfriend about an unwanted pregnancy. If that wasn’t enough, a hospital staff member pulls him aside for another delivery: carry a high-priority package to Raccoon City General Hospital in snowy conditions, and he’ll be paid double.
He accepts and lies that his car is outfitted for winter conditions. In this economy, can you blame him?
He is met with more baggage to carry on his way to the hospital: the rabid, mutated people, dogs, and rats that he encounters during the film. His gunshots at these zombie-like creatures can only do so much, with tentacles emerging from the bodies to converge into one horrifying ball of whatever is left. Eyes, teeth, legs, arms, and more come together to chase Bryan down.
If you think Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance was peak body horror, this is twice as big.
As this happens to Bryan, you empathize with him and get frustrated with his decisions, like you would with someone you’re not officially dating. While Bryan does have a moral compass and ethos to help others in need, and you come to understand why, you realize that he doesn’t know when to stop helping others and leave for his own safety. It’s an inevitable cliché that almost every horror protagonist follows, as you instinctively end up internally screaming and talking to the screen as if you were a concerned mom: “Don’t go into the dark corner!” “Don’t come closer!” “Don’t open that door!”
You eventually feel helpless and act like you can fix him when the story has already written itself: he’s already been bitten by an infected girl and he’s about to become infected himself.
Yet, you’ve decided to see the good in Bryan because you’ve invested so much time, energy, and money into this movie. You hope he survives, gets injected with the cure he’s been carrying all along, and comes home to his girlfriend and tells her how he also wants to keep the baby.
Don’t get me wrong, most of the film’s aspects were great and saved this review. Austin Abrams’ ability to express frustration, fear, and disappointment in himself is felt through the screen, and I felt it too. Every decision he made is understandable, but not agreeable. When the cinematography often switched from third person to first person, it made me feel like I was playing the video game, but also watching a movie. The special effects were realistic enough to make me fear any creature coming his way.
The movie’s cliffhanger leaves you worn out and making you regret holding on to whatever hope you had. The emotional weight is now off Bryan and is placed on you.