EZIYODA

aka, A pseudo-review of Resident Evil: Death Island

Say what you will about the Resident Evil franchise, you cannot deny its ability to spin a yarn.

Since the turn of the millennium, it has played host to seven live action flicks, one miniseries, one ill-fated Netflix season, and four (and a half?) CGI films. The latest of those, Death Island, is currently doing the cinema rounds, after enticing fans with trailers of a particular variety.

What I mean to say is, all of the teased material has been ingratiating, showcasing beloved series staples doing thrilling things, reeling off quips, and interacting with one another in under-utilised combinations.

I have just now returned from my viewing session, trying to consolidate my verdict on the movie I have just watched. My conclusion, is that it is ingratiating, showcasing beloved series staples doing thrilling things, reeling off quips, and interacting with one another in under-utilised combinations.

There really is not much more to it than that. Objectively, I think it’s probably a very mediocre movie. As a Resident Evil glutton, I kind of fucking loved it and wouldn’t change a thing.

After the opening scene showing an Umbrella extraction unit that dreaded night in Raccoon City, we pretty much wipe our hands clean of any significant world building. Next, we’re whisked off to Leon Kennedy atop a motorbike on a mission to thwart an attempted kidnapping, complete with high speed collisions against a rival cyclist. You can practically feel your thumb twitching in the direction of an invisible button in response to the quick time events proceeding on-screen.

I sat there in breathless wonderment, and then changed gears again as Claire Redfield investigated the bite marks on a beached orca. Then, Jill Valentine is infiltrating a potential crime scene, and now there’s zombies and now she’s shooting them!!

I could go on listing the action scenes as they come one after another in quick succession, but doing so would effectively summate the plot of Death Island. That is to say, there isn’t one. I would estimate there is approximately ten minutes of downtime wherein the characters have some sort of discourse before they arrive on Alcatraz (aka the eponymous Death Island), at which point it is simply a rotation of action set pieces.

It introduces very few auxiliary characters in its 91 minute runtime, and disposes of most of them almost immediately. The only significant addition — the new villain pulling the strings — is Resident Evil cheese dialled up to 11, and I mean that in the very best way. He is a soliloquy machine deadset on mwahahaing his ambitions onto the world, and stunningly enough, they involve [SPOILER WARNING] a zombie virus.

I never thought I would see the day where Infinite Darkness’ characters could be considered subtle, but comparatively, even the underdeveloped personas of Jason and Shen May have a degree of nuance that is absent here. Death Island takes one look at the very word nuance, says something pithy in the style of Leon, and then blasts it into tiny little pieces with a rocket launcher.

It’s clear that this was a vehicle produced in reverence to our favourite heroes (and Chris Redfield), and that’s pretty much all there is. Want a twist? Or to be intrigued by motivations? Have a whole heaping of fan service instead. Whoever your preferred member of the fab five happens to be, you’re likely to get at least a few moments of gratification.

Leon, as always, dazzles with his situation-inappropriate yet Leon-appropriate one-liners, but make no mistake, this is a love letter to Jill Valentine, to the point where she even outstrips Mr. Kennedy himself as the top banana for airtime.

As an unabashed Jill stan, this was… intoxicating. If my knowledge of the timeline holds up, this is her first significant action in the field since the mind control incident of Resident Evil 5. She has had several playable roles since then, starring in Resident Evil Revelations, offshoots like Resident Evil Resistance and Resident Evil Re:Verse, and obviously, 2020’s Resident Evil 3 remake.

In universe, however, this is her canonical return following six agonising years of rehabilitation. She carries this guilt with her, and in a more fleshed out movie, this would have had some sort of impact on the narrative. Here, it doesn’t. She kicks ass. She saves the day. She is a fucking queen, she is this franchise to me, and I emoted with the sheer enthusiasm of 1,000 Ramon Salazars.

Ultimately, Resident Evil: Death Island is the movie equivalent of Resident Evil 6, albeit an experience that I actually enjoyed. If the next game in the series was just this; a gallery of legends working in tandem, I would be ecstatic. Although that’s not in line with the modern vision for the franchise, the idea has strong spinoff potential — we’re long overdue for another Revelations entry, for example, which famously shuffled its protagonists chapter by chapter.

Circling back to Infinite Darkness one last time, its biggest injustice was how it set up the various pieces in a meaningful way, only to fall flat in its final act and default back to good guy vs mutant stereotype. The mindset behind said mutant was contradictory and predictable at once.

Death Island also resorts to this — and yes, that slow motion series of epic dodges is so fucking extra — however because it never made an earnest attempt at pretending it was anything more than just a great big roller coaster ride, it feels… right, somehow. As if, yes, this fun and exciting movie about nothing should have a fun and exciting conclusion about large monster.

I haven’t happened upon a proper critical review yet, and honestly, I’m okay with that. This wasn’t made for critics; it won’t be lauded for its impactful exploration into the human psyche, or triumphed for its expert pacing that builds to a gradual crescendo. Even certain character dynamics that had been set up in preceding entries go to the wayside, by and large.

This is just shit that happens on a screen, injected into your eyeballs and your earballs, and if you give half a toss about even just one of the quintet at the heart of it all, you’ll have a damned good time. I sure as hell did.

Jill Valentine forever, baby.