Resident Evil: Extinction


Resident Evil

The really rather lovely Milla Jovovitch returns again to the insufferable Resident Evil universe in this, the third in the shitty zombie computer game movie series.

This time around the rotten old Umbrella virus has infected the entire planet, turning the earth into a dying desert world. Milla, dressed like Lara Croft, rides around this wasteland on a motorbike looking for survivors. She has to visit petrol stations …

“Hold up!” I roared, upending an enormous bag of nuts into my lap, “This is Mad fucking Max! And it’s not even good Mad Max … it’s Mad Max 3 – Beyond Thunderdome! The robbing fucking …”

… because fuel’s low on the ground nowadays. She also listens out for radio messages. One message she responds to sees her captured by evil redneck future people who throw her to a pack of those skinless Dobermans Resident Evil’s so fond of.

Needless to say Milla, who fans of the series will remember is a superhuman genetic experiment kinda gal, kills most of the dogs and escapes. The redneck future people aren’t so lucky. Because they all get killed. By the dogs. In the future. Etc…

“Or that Don Johnson movie where he has a talking dog! What was the name of that? He had a talking dog? He ate dog food out of the tin? It was in the future? Don Johnson? Dog? Talking dog? Yes? Yes?”

Meanwhile, in a bunker under a fenced complex surrounded by faaaaahsands o’ zombies (see: Day of the Dead) …

“They’ve just fucking nicked that straight out of Day of the fucking Dead!”

… a team of boffins are working on an antivirus to ‘tame’ the zombies. They have a zombie in a room chained up, just like in …

“Day of the fucking Dead! This is an outrage!”

… well you get the point. The boffins, led by an evil mad British scientist, are getting the antivirus from the blood of clones of Milla Jovovitch’s character which they grow in a big laboratory. Instead of growing the clones then killing ‘em for the blood, they allow each one to wake up in a fake version of the house/complex from the first movie, and then see how long she lasts before being killed by one of the various booby-traps she encounters as she wanders around (room full o’ lasers, surprise zombie attack, nasty thing that comes out o’ the floor, etc.). They then nick her blood and throw the body in a big pit full of other versions of Mila’s character. I mean, what a ridiculously convoluted way to go about getting blood from a girl … didn’t they just think to ask?

Anyway, in the outside world Milla has occasion to rescue a Desperate Band Of Survivors © who are being attacked by a legion of zombie crows. The survivors are led by what’s-her-face out of Heroes, her out of Final Destination, you know, not the cheerleader, the other one …

“Hello hello hello,” says I, desperately hunting down the Kleenex, “Now that’s more like it. Surely this is the sort of cheap horror entertainment that’ll stoop low enough to flood the screen with tits ‘n’ ass to get bums on seats? Surely her out of Heroes is in this for one reason and one reason alone – to get it all out? Huzzah!”


The shitbags.

Anyway, Milla, her out of Heroes, the inevitable guy who’s been bitten by a zombie but isn’t telling anyone he has been (see: just about every zombie movie ever made), the spunky teenage girl, a bloke from Resident Evil: Apocalypse, and the other survivors head off to Las Vegas to get fuel …

“It’s always bloody fuel in these future movies! If I’d written Mad Max I’d be suing the living shit out of these robbing bastards!”

… and are attacked by a crate-load of zombies in boiler suits. The zombies have been put there by the evil mad British scientist to kill everyone and capture Milla. The reason that most of the survivors need to be killed is that the writer of this drivel, having the mental age of an excitable eight year old boy, can’t cope with so many different characters. Can’t write ‘em? Kill ‘em, kill ‘em all.

So, just about everyone’s dead, Milla’s really really annoyed and the mad British scientist has been bitten by a zombie. He returns to his evil underground lair and injects himself with loads of the rubbish antivirus. This turns him into a lumpy slimy thing made from balls and elbows and he kills everyone underground …

“I’m sure the same sort of thing happened in the second film didn’t it? Didn’t it? Eh?”

… then broods, and waits.

With crushing inevitability Milla and her out of Heroes and the soldier and the spunky teenager break into the zombie-surrounded complex using a big explosion. All but Milla escape in a helicopter to the supposedly virus-free last bit of Earth that isn’t buggered. Here it’s called ‘Alaska’ … in Waterworld it was called ‘Dry Land’.

And so, underground, Milla and the balls/elbow man have a fight. Like in the finale of Doom, both characters are pumped-up super beings fighting in an underground lair. Lots of things get smashed up.

Then, when all seems lost, one of the Milla clones comes to the original Milla’s rescue and turns on the machine that makes all those lasers turn into a grid pattern thing. This kills the balls/elbow fella …

“Well they’ve done that before …”

… and the scene has become the Resident Evil series’ equivalent of the throwing the alien out of the airlock bit so beloved of the Alien movies. If in doubt, repeat.

The movie ends with Milla and Milla looking at faaaaahsands of other Milas, all ready to be woken up and used as a cheap plot device in the next movie in the series.

“Well that was a pile of crap,” I grumbled, hoping the producers of these appalling movies meet a grisly end that involves knives ‘n’ axes ‘n’ shit.

Warning: This article contains spoilers.

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16 Responses to “Resident Evil: Extinction”

  1. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Nice picture.

  2. Swineshead Says:

    Is that sarcasm?
    Are you on the blob?

  3. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    That’s better.

  4. piqued Says:


    I luv u guyz

    Lets touch

    *roughly grabs NP’s winkle catching his helm with a chipped nail*

  5. Swineshead Says:

    I know this is highly hypocritical but, NC – this film – why’d you bother?

    (Was it just on the offchance you’d see Milla’s knockers?)

  6. Who Says:

    Yeah, yeah, but what sort of nuts were they?

  7. Swineshead Says:

    I thought ‘upending an enormous bag of nuts into my lap’ was a euphemism.

    If it wasn’t, I’ll put a fiver on Brazils.

  8. Who Says:

    I thought it was too, but needed to check because I couldn’t get to the end of the film review without worrying.

    I’ll take a fiver on them posh boys fancy cashews – turkey twizzler and sundried tomato flavour

  9. Swineshead Says:

    Far too fancy for Napoleon. I’m surprised he wasn’t munching on scratchings.

  10. Badger Madge Says:

    Mmmm, cashews…

  11. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Good old dry roasted ladies ‘n’ gentlemen. Since the salt fascists got to salted peanuts (like they got to crisps, alas, alas), dry roasted are the only nuts in town.

    Swineshead – I watched this shit because I watch EVERYTHING.

  12. Dave Medlo Says:

    “Well that was a pile of crap,” I grumbled, hoping the producers of these appalling movies meet a grisly end that involves knives ‘n’ axes ‘n’ shit.

    Actually the producer of this film, the famously untalented Paul WS Anderson, didn’t meet a grisly end that involved knives… instead he got to bang the famously beautiful Milla and get her up the duff.

    I hardly think that’s fair, after all this is a guy who managed to fuck up a movie about aliens fighting predators.

  13. Swineshead Says:

    I don’t think Milla’s beautiful. I think she’s skinny as as a skellington – give me a REAL lady like Bernard Matthews in drag any day. How’d you like to nibble on THEM kievs?

  14. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    Milla’s bootiful.

  15. Swineshead Says:

    Covered in breadcrumbs, perhaps.

  16. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    But of course … and leaking garlic sauce out of her … phnuuuur hunuuurrr …

    *grasps phallus*

    *roars in triumph*

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