There are statements people can make that instantly tell you everything you need to know about them. When Albert Einstein stated that the simple version of relativity was akin to how quickly time moved in different situations, for example, it told the world they were dealing with an intelligence too great to be easily understood. So when a person tells you that Resident Evil: Extinction is a good film, you instantly know that they are a grade A moron who is best swiftly removed from the gene pool. And it is not like the filmmakers failed to try this time. After the exercise in failure to deliver that the previous sequel turned into, this installment simply had to get better by comparison. The unfortunate downside to this being that a lot of mouth-breathers who have obviously never seen a Romero or Fulci film have the unfortunate habit of confusing "better" with "good". Websites dedicated to the savoring of bad films will tell you that a film is in trouble when it starts to remind you of better ones. RE:E takes less than four minutes to remind viewers of the substantially better original.
By now, we know better than to go to a Resident Evil film expecting anything like good acting or a well-told story. But what separates the first film from its sequels is a little quality called atmosphere. Simply put, the look, the feel, the music, and even some of the performances, were "right". Resident Evil took the time to suspend the viewer's disbelief and draw them into its world. The sequels absolutely fail at this deceptively simple step because they take it for granted that the viewer has been drawn in. This becomes painfully obvious when voiceovers describe how the T-virus has somehow dried up the oceans or other such rot. No matter how lethal and easily transmissible a virus can be, one that destroys the environment that it is meant to thrive in is not well-equipped for long-term survival. But since we are meant to accept this virus as being able to instantly adapt to whatever needs the plot requires, we also accept that making sense is not high on the list of priorities the filmmakers have.
If only the film having a voice of its own was a higher priority to these filmmakers. As said previously, RE:E wastes no time in reminding the viewers of better films. Aside from the original in the series, RE:E also attempts to steal from not one, not two, but three George Romero films, all from the same series. Say what you will about Day Of The Dead especially, but Day Of The Dead's subplot about attempts to domesticate the zombies made an interesting metaphor for the intolerance human society was and is developing for natural behaviour that does not meet the expected norm. In RE:E, this subplot is handled with such clumsy focus on attempting to move the plot forward by any means necessary that any social commentary is lost in the disbelief at how inept the storytellers seem. The concept of parties raiding old towns for supplies is also about as original as a third-generation fax, but it is done so badly here that it truly makes one appreciate how Land Of The Dead negated questions about what the heroes are going to do when the leftovers run out.
And even if RE:E fails to remind one of much better films, the philosophy that less is more completely and utterly backfires. One reason the Resident Evil sequels remind this viewer a lot of Romero's Dead series is because Romero's Dead series allocated sufficient time to explore enough of the characters that their plight and struggles seemed real and compelling. The manner in which the shopping mall environment slowly evolves from a safe paradise to a prison is very palpable due to the acting in Dawn Of The Dead. The real Dawn Of The Dead, I mean. When you see Omar Epps return for another performance in RE:E, all the toning down of the bling bling act in the world cannot help but bring back memories of his performance in the previous film. Which in turn leaves audiences who can read and speak at an adult level wishing to see his character die a gruesome and horrid death. While RE:E is not quite as softcore as its immediate predecessor, its seemingly unending ability to leave the viewer wanting more is a stark contrast to how Dead films can make even the most hardcore viewer wonder if they are perhaps going too far.
All this leaves one wondering exactly what Capcom think of how these second-tier studio gatherings have used their property. The first film in the series at least had a freaky sense of atmosphere and some replications of game conventions to tie it to its source material. If you changed the titles of the two sequels and removed all references to the Umbrella corporation, they would be unrecognisable as connected to Capcom's games. Simply put, the Resident Evil title is nothing more than a transparent ploy to fanboys and video game addicts to pay for films that are increasingly poorly-written. If truth in advertising laws were more stringent, they would be required to be titled something along the lines of We Have No Respect For You At All, Videogamers: Just Give Us Your Money. The saddest part of it is that this kind of corporate shill film designed to whip consumers into a money-shedding frenzy is exactly what previous, far superior works such as (the real) Dawn Of The Dead were trying to warn us about.
Resident Evil: Extinction is a film so bad that it makes misfires like Day Of The Dead seem like Zwartboek by comparison. It is a two out of ten film in every sense: too bad to be worthwhile, not bad enough to be entertaining. Avoid.
By now, we know better than to go to a Resident Evil film expecting anything like good acting or a well-told story. But what separates the first film from its sequels is a little quality called atmosphere. Simply put, the look, the feel, the music, and even some of the performances, were "right". Resident Evil took the time to suspend the viewer's disbelief and draw them into its world. The sequels absolutely fail at this deceptively simple step because they take it for granted that the viewer has been drawn in. This becomes painfully obvious when voiceovers describe how the T-virus has somehow dried up the oceans or other such rot. No matter how lethal and easily transmissible a virus can be, one that destroys the environment that it is meant to thrive in is not well-equipped for long-term survival. But since we are meant to accept this virus as being able to instantly adapt to whatever needs the plot requires, we also accept that making sense is not high on the list of priorities the filmmakers have.
If only the film having a voice of its own was a higher priority to these filmmakers. As said previously, RE:E wastes no time in reminding the viewers of better films. Aside from the original in the series, RE:E also attempts to steal from not one, not two, but three George Romero films, all from the same series. Say what you will about Day Of The Dead especially, but Day Of The Dead's subplot about attempts to domesticate the zombies made an interesting metaphor for the intolerance human society was and is developing for natural behaviour that does not meet the expected norm. In RE:E, this subplot is handled with such clumsy focus on attempting to move the plot forward by any means necessary that any social commentary is lost in the disbelief at how inept the storytellers seem. The concept of parties raiding old towns for supplies is also about as original as a third-generation fax, but it is done so badly here that it truly makes one appreciate how Land Of The Dead negated questions about what the heroes are going to do when the leftovers run out.
And even if RE:E fails to remind one of much better films, the philosophy that less is more completely and utterly backfires. One reason the Resident Evil sequels remind this viewer a lot of Romero's Dead series is because Romero's Dead series allocated sufficient time to explore enough of the characters that their plight and struggles seemed real and compelling. The manner in which the shopping mall environment slowly evolves from a safe paradise to a prison is very palpable due to the acting in Dawn Of The Dead. The real Dawn Of The Dead, I mean. When you see Omar Epps return for another performance in RE:E, all the toning down of the bling bling act in the world cannot help but bring back memories of his performance in the previous film. Which in turn leaves audiences who can read and speak at an adult level wishing to see his character die a gruesome and horrid death. While RE:E is not quite as softcore as its immediate predecessor, its seemingly unending ability to leave the viewer wanting more is a stark contrast to how Dead films can make even the most hardcore viewer wonder if they are perhaps going too far.
All this leaves one wondering exactly what Capcom think of how these second-tier studio gatherings have used their property. The first film in the series at least had a freaky sense of atmosphere and some replications of game conventions to tie it to its source material. If you changed the titles of the two sequels and removed all references to the Umbrella corporation, they would be unrecognisable as connected to Capcom's games. Simply put, the Resident Evil title is nothing more than a transparent ploy to fanboys and video game addicts to pay for films that are increasingly poorly-written. If truth in advertising laws were more stringent, they would be required to be titled something along the lines of We Have No Respect For You At All, Videogamers: Just Give Us Your Money. The saddest part of it is that this kind of corporate shill film designed to whip consumers into a money-shedding frenzy is exactly what previous, far superior works such as (the real) Dawn Of The Dead were trying to warn us about.
Resident Evil: Extinction is a film so bad that it makes misfires like Day Of The Dead seem like Zwartboek by comparison. It is a two out of ten film in every sense: too bad to be worthwhile, not bad enough to be entertaining. Avoid.