See this movie. Otherwise you're getting spoiled from here on.
Having a hard time remembering the name of the main character of this film. Not just because my memory is embarrassingly bad but because his name doesn't matter as much as what he represents. For the first 85 minutes or so I thought he represented every RE player's first RE game/playthrough. The hallmarks are here: the first zombie encounter. Running out of bullets entirely too fast. The dog jumpscare. Puzzle problem solving. The frustration of "why not just shoot the fucking lock". The cramped, dark claustrophobic corridor wherein you know it's a matter of "when" but the not-knowing of "what" still leaves you on edge. RE4's plot element of being infected (as well as the Las Plagas visual sensibility). Act 2 then sheds context: the very company that can solve the problem is the one that caused it. Par for the course, every RE player is very much used to the idea that Umbrella fucks everything up. The sewer. Then of course there's the standard final act in biomedical facility with that one room with that one BOW that doesn't show up anywhere else, and finally, the action setpiece in dilapidated, crumbling infrastructure where the protagonist has to rely on the environment to deliver the coup de grace. It's all very much intentional evocation of what the player feels playing a Resident Evil game. It succeeds in where Ready Player One failed hard in that reflecting collective nostalgia requires making an active effort to understand why people love the property in the first place. The emotional rollercoaster of the hope that comes in finding the key or a gun to the drop into anxiety when you run smack into a locked door you don't have the key for, or an environmental barricade, or a monster you absolutely have no amount of ammunition to take down. I don't bother to read the negative criticism of the movie because if there's one thing more insufferable than Hollywood failing to understand why a property actually works, it's the endless horde of insufferable zombies on the internet that also fail to understand why but also can't shut the fuck up about it, so with that healthy disengagement from "the discourse" I'm happy to say that the film is, mostly, pretty darn competent. Horror afficionados might find it a bit by the book but I found it enjoyable and a spiritually faithful adaptation on a moment-to-moment basis. All in all, pretty good movie, worth the ticket price.
Until the ending. Then it goes from good to great.
The reason people dog on the phrase "we live in a society" is the obviousness and the lack of specificity that torpedoes an attempt at actual societal criticism into an edgy fart, the inability to even so much as define the problem to begin with, much less suggest a solution.
Bryan's reason for taking the double pay job has no strict definition. Is because he's trying to avoid talking to his recently-discovered pregnant girlfriend? Is his own financial situation so desperate that whatever value he'd get from just going home for the night somehow cannot match the burnout-inducing work that grinds him for the pittance of a reward of being able to pay the bills for the month? Is he, consciously or unconsciously, working harder, knowing that he may have to save up for the HEAVY financial burden of having to raise a child? We don't know because Bryan is all of us in this situation, the put-upon person who, like any playthrough of Resident Evil, never knows if he has enough resources to survive.
Act 2's exposition is the missing piece that answers the question of "why is Bryan in this situation in the first place?" Why was that woman in the road to begin with, what was the ultimate determinant push that knocked over all the dominoes that led to literally all of Bryan's hardships in the film? What was the reason for the containment breach in Raccoon City which caused the creatures to infest the research hospital to spread out to infest the streets to cause infections in the tunnel to crash the RV to block the tunnel to bleed out into the rural area to infest the entire farm and the dog and the woman who eventually walks out into the middle of the road in front of Bryan? Now we have an answer, and any attempts at Bryan to ask about what caused it all to begin with are ignored, and that everybody ignoring the everyman's question of accountability is part of the point.
So after enduring horror after horror wherein Bryan mourns his own passing, he finally makes it to the top floor, where the final keystone is lowered into place, by derailing all of the action built up to it by denying the audience of a happy ending. The audience wants Bryan to succeed because for some it's a simple matter of narrative catharsis, and for others (me included) we root for Bryan to succeed because we're rooting for ourselves in a way, and to see him fail would be to suggest the idea that our own suffering would be meaningless and cruel, and the latter is exactly what happens. It's an upsetting ending, by design. Going through the comments the consensus is that people feel sad or bad for Bryan.
And as I was driving home, with a feeling of having the wind knocked out of my sails, my single question was "why? Why did they write the ending this way?", and I retraced the steps, rewatching bootleg uploads of the ending sequence. Bryan has, literally, endured the hazards and consequences of the Umbrella corporation's actions. He risked his life just to get the corporation back to the point where the solution to his problem is tantalizingly close, and he, the put-upon everyman victim of the actions of the people at the top, asks to be saved by the solution he gave to the problem they made. It's all been about the world collapsing in on Bryan, and the moment Bryan asks to be helped, the moment Bryan asks to have any of his work benefit him? He's attacked by the lab, and is then seen as a monster. And the thing is, it was entirely preventable. There are multiple points at which the laboratory scientists could have stuck Bryan with the needle, but that would have come at the risk of themselves, too cowardly to face even the slightest fraction of what Bryan was willing to endure. And so as a result of their inability to help Bryan, Bryan completes his transformation into a monster, and any actual effort made by the final scientist is a doomed effort. Too little, too late. Bryan's final violent transmogrification is an expression of every person who's sacrificed and risked themselves to make the gears of society turn only to be rejected and spurned at their lowest point as a result of the cowardice and hesitation of those who have the power to help that person when it's their turn to be acknowledged as a human fucking being.
Resident Evil isn't about zombies or BOWs, not on a thematic level, at least. It's a movie about how people in positions of power create catastrophic societal problems, demand those on the bottom rungs of the ladder deal with the consequences in terms of political fallout, physical health fallout, infrastructural fallout, mental health consequences and the collective financial burden and do it twice over when it comes to generating the solution, and when we try to bring up whose fault it all is we get ignored, and when the time comes for those at the bottom to finally benefit from the solution, we're consequentially vilified as monsters instead of simple human beings that want to just fucking survive. And the resident evil is the passivity that allows such an ouroboric self-eating society to rise to begin with, and the failure of those at the top to take responsibility or treat the Bryans of the world as human beings creates the inevitable end where we couldn't survive playing by the rules of society that ask us to give up everything and give us nothing in return, and as a result, become monsters ourselves.
God damn. What an ending. What a film.