Welcome to Afterlife — Where Plot Goes to Die
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if The Matrix, a shampoo commercial, and a slow-motion explosion had a baby, Resident Evil: Afterlife is the answer — and it’s not a pretty one.
Paul W.S. Anderson returns to the director’s chair for the fourth entry in the Resident Evil franchise, proving once again that subtlety and restraint are two things he’s never heard of. The film stars Milla Jovovich, Ali Larter, and a bunch of other people who spend most of the runtime looking sweaty and confused while dodging bullets, CGI debris, and the ghost of narrative coherence.
It’s the first film in the series shot in 3D, which in this case means “Three Dimensional Disappointment.” You could practically hear James Cameron whisper, “I’m sorry I invented this.”
The Plot (Or What’s Left of It)
We begin with Alice — played by Milla Jovovich, the franchise’s eternal zombie-slaying supermodel — leading an army of her own clones in an assault on Umbrella Corporation’s Tokyo headquarters. This sounds awesome on paper. In execution, it looks like someone spilled Red Bull on a Final Fantasy cutscene.
Within minutes, Alice is stripped of her powers by Albert Wesker (Shawn Roberts), the Umbrella CEO whose sunglasses are glued to his face like they were surgically implanted at birth. He injects her with an “anti-virus” to make her human again, because nothing says high stakes like undoing everything your character accomplished in the last three movies.
Then Wesker’s plane explodes, Alice walks away unharmed, and we’re off to Alaska, where she’s hunting for survivors and a rumored safe haven called “Arcadia.” Spoiler: Arcadia isn’t a paradise — it’s a cargo ship. That’s the level of creative symbolism we’re working with here.
Eventually, Alice teams up with Claire Redfield (Ali Larter), who’s lost her memory, and a group of survivors holed up in a Los Angeles prison surrounded by zombies. There’s also Chris Redfield (Wentworth Miller), Claire’s brother, who spends half the movie locked in a glass box like a forgotten action figure.
They fight zombies, meet a giant guy with an axe, and then run around yelling “Go! Go! Go!” for about forty minutes. The climax involves Alice stabbing Wesker, blowing up his plane, and then — surprise — he parachutes away. Because evil CEOs in sunglasses are impossible to kill, especially when there are sequels to fund.
The Writing: Now 90% Gunfire
Paul W.S. Anderson’s script has all the depth of a damp napkin. The dialogue feels like it was assembled from discarded Call of Duty voice lines:
-
“We’ve got company.”
-
“It’s not safe here.”
-
“You’ll never get away with this!”
There’s an attempt at emotional weight, but it’s about as convincing as a zombie trying to do algebra. The film opens with clones, superpowers, and corporate conspiracy, but by the halfway mark, it’s devolved into a glorified Nerf war with bad lighting.
The saddest part? It thinks it’s clever. Anderson sprinkles in pseudo-scientific jargon like “the T-virus at a cellular level” and “genetic bonding” as if the audience will forget that we’re watching people shoot monsters in leather pants.
The Acting: Everyone Looks as Tired as You’ll Feel
Milla Jovovich, bless her, is doing her best. She stares intensely, she flips in slow motion, and she fires twin pistols while wearing a trench coat made of pure attitude. But even she can’t save dialogue that sounds like it was written by ChatGPT with a head injury.
Ali Larter’s Claire Redfield spends most of the movie with amnesia, which feels like an excuse to avoid explaining anything. Wentworth Miller’s Chris Redfield acts like he’s still in Prison Break, which is fitting since his character literally starts off in a cell.
Shawn Roberts as Wesker is unintentionally hilarious. He speaks every line like he’s auditioning to be an audiobook narrator for Villains Monthly. He’s all smirks, suits, and shades, but no substance — the cinematic equivalent of a protein shake with no flavor.
Then there’s Boris Kodjoe as Luther West, a former basketball player turned zombie fighter. He’s charming, sure, but the script gives him less to do than a background extra in The Walking Dead.
The 3D: Coming at You… Slowly
Remember when 3D movies were all the rage after Avatar? Resident Evil: Afterlife was part of that wave, and boy, does it show. Every five minutes, something flies at the camera — a bullet, a knife, an undead jawbone, your will to live.
The action sequences are choreographed like music videos for a band that only plays gunfire and grunts. Anderson milks every moment of slow motion as if time itself were billing him hourly. Every fight looks like it’s happening underwater, and every explosion looks like it cost half the film’s budget — which it probably did.
If you watched this movie without 3D glasses, you didn’t miss anything except a migraine.
The Zombies: Now With Less Scary, More Slimy
The undead are supposedly the main threat here, but they’re treated more like background dancers at a heavy metal concert. They pop up, snarl, get shot, and politely exit the frame. Some have weird tentacle mouths inspired by Resident Evil 5, but they’re more gross than terrifying — like spaghetti that decided to unionize.
There’s also a giant Axeman monster who looks impressive but dies faster than your interest in this movie. He exists solely so Anderson can stage another slow-motion shower fight with Milla Jovovich. (Yes, there’s a shower fight. No, it doesn’t make sense. Yes, it’s exactly as weird as it sounds.)
The Tone: Post-Apocalypse, Pre-Logic
The Resident Evil movies have always been campy, but Afterlife takes itself so seriously it circles back around to comedy. Characters deliver every line like they’re reciting scripture. Every shot is drenched in greys and metallic hues, as if the entire world has been color-corrected by a sad Instagram filter.
Even the music, a relentless barrage of industrial techno, feels like it’s punishing you for watching. It’s the kind of soundtrack that makes you check your pulse to see if you’re still alive.
The Logic: Undead, Meet Plot Holes
The film opens with hundreds of Alice clones storming Umbrella headquarters — an army of genetically enhanced superwomen capable of taking over the world. Sounds like a good setup, right? Anderson immediately kills them all off in the first ten minutes.
Why? Probably because having that many competent characters in a Resident Evil movie would be cheating.
Then there’s Arcadia, the mysterious “safe haven” that turns out to be a boat. A boat! Somehow, no one questions how a cargo ship broadcasting all over the world hasn’t moved in months. The survivors just stand around saying “It’s a trap!” as if quoting Admiral Ackbar counts as characterization.
By the end, Alice and company are once again surrounded by enemies, setting up yet another sequel that promises answers and delivers none. It’s cinematic déjà vu: different location, same nonsense.
The Verdict: A Franchise That Refuses to Stay Dead
Resident Evil: Afterlife is like a zombie itself — it keeps getting back up no matter how many times you shoot it in the head. It’s loud, glossy, and completely hollow. The action is repetitive, the writing is lazy, and the characters are as forgettable as the popcorn you ate while watching it.
And yet, it made $300 million worldwide. Apparently, audiences really will pay to watch Milla Jovovich kick zombies in slow motion forever.
Rating: 1.5 out of 5 CGI Bullet Casings.
If movies could get infected by the T-virus, this one would be Patient Zero. It’s flashy, brainless, and impossible to kill — truly the undead of cinema. 🧟♀️💀🎬
