Editorials
Does ‘Resident Evil: The Final Chapter’ Contain the Biggest Plot Hole(s) of 2017?
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The Resident Evil film franchise is an interesting creation. Adapted from a 1996 video game, the first installment (released in 2002) had almost nothing to do with the game it was based on (save for the fact that there were zombies, zombie dogs, a Licker and an evil corporation called Umbrella). Nevertheless, it was a financial success (earning $102 million worldwide on a $33 million budget) and a franchise was born. Earlier this year Resident Evil: The Final Chapter, the supposed final installment in the franchise, was released. With a $26.8 million domestic gross, it was the lowest performing film in the franchise domestically (but it was saved by a $282 million gross from foreign markets, making it the highest grossing film in the franchise). Financials aside, Resident Evil: The Final Chapter has the distinction of taking a big ol’ dump on the series’ continuity, making it an insult to the fans that have followed it over the past 15 years.
Before I really dive into this, I want to address one thing: I know you are going to tell me that the Resident Evil films are brainless and I shouldn’t think too much about the plot. Save for the Resident Evil and Resident Evil: Extinction, none of them are particularly good. Fun? Absolutely. High-quality cinema? Not at all. But here is the thing: I don’t care. Even though a film series is pure popcorn entertainment, the creator should still have enough respect for his audience to give them a satisfying conclusion that also makes sense. If Resident Evil: The Final Chapter tells us anything: it is that Paul W.S. Anderson does not respect his audience at all. It pains me to say this, as I have long been a defender of this dumb but fun franchise. It is my guilty pleasure, but I don’t feel guilty about it at all. I actually like all of them except for Resident Evil: Apocalypse, which is a big heaping pile of garbage despite it being the most accurate adaptation of the games.
Resident Evil: The Final Chapter actually has a few plot holes that either retcon or undo information we were given in the previous five films. For instance, the big showdown that was teased at the end of Resident Evil: Retribution (a big battle at the White House) is glossed over, with everyone (Jill Valentine, Ada Wong, Leon Kennedy, Becky) except Alice (Milla Jovovich) dying off-screen between films. This robs the audience of what could have been a spectacular moment in the franchise. Of course, it’s likely that battle had to be skipped because Anderson couldn’t get the actors and actresses who portrayed those characters to return for The Final Chapter, but it’s still a crushing blow to fans, especially since none of those characters are even mentioned by Alice in The Final Chapter.
The series has always struggled with continuity (will we ever find out what happened to K-Mart? Why does Claire never mention Chris after Resident Evil: Afterlife? It’s her brother.), and it’s never really been that detrimental to the overall plot of the films. So let’s get into the major plot holes of The Final Chapter which are detrimental to the series.The big twist/reveal in The Final Chapter tells us three things:
- Umbrella’s founder James Marcus (Mark Simpson) “discovered the T-Virus” to save his daughter Alicia (Ever Gabo Anderson, the daughter of Jovovich and Anderson), who has a disease called progeria that causes her to age rapidly. He recorded every moment of her young life in order to preserve her likeness and spirit. His business partner Dr. James Isaacs (Iain Glen) had Albert Wesker (Shawn Roberts) kill him in order to take control of the project. Isaacs then used Marcus’ recordings of Alicia to create the Red Queen.
- The T-Virus outbreak was not an accident, but rather a decision made by Dr. Isaacs (Iain Glen) and the rest of Umbrella to kick-start an apocalypse that would wipe the world clean à la the Great Flood. All of Umbrella’s elite would then be cryogenically frozen and wait out the apocalypse until it was over and then repopulate the planet.
- Alicia Marcus is still alive and wheelchair-bound. Umbrella cloned her and that clone is Alice. Alice was “born” in the shower in the first movie. This means that from the get-go, she has been a clone and that was her first interaction with the world.
On paper, all of this sounds really cool. In fact, if you casually watched the franchise over the years and didn’t pay too much attention to the details, this would be a fairly cathartic set of revelations for the end of a franchise. The Final Chapter brings the franchise full circle and also gives it a heartfelt conclusion by allowing Alice to have the memories of the childhood she never had (Alicia’s memories). Unfortunately, these revelations also ignore or downright contradict things that previous franchise entries have told us.
Let’s start with item one, which seemingly retcons the origin of the T-Virus. In Resident Evil: Apocalypse, we are told that Dr. Charles Ashford’s (Jared Harris) daughter Angela (Sophie Vavasseur) had to walk on crutches when she was little. Charles “found a way to make [her] stronger.” This was the T-virus. Umbrella stole the virus from him and harnessed it to make Bio Organic Weapons. Okay, so who created the T-Virus? It all comes down to semantics. Charles Ashford “found a way” to cure his daughter and James Marcus “discovered the T-Virus” to cure his daughter. If it was Ashford then that means Marcus stole his research, squandering any sympathy The Final Chapter asks us to have for him. If Marcus created it then that means Ashford stole it from him, which also loses any sympathy that Apocalypse asks the audience to have for him. My bet is that Anderson knew the dialogue in Apocalypse was vague (he did write it, after all) and he kept it that way in The Final Chapter so he wouldn’t have to explain it.
Before we move on to items two and three, let’s have a little recap: the plot of the first Resident Evil film follows a Sanitation Team sent in by Umbrella to contain the T-Virus in an underground facility known as The Hive. When they get there, they discover Alice and Spence (James Purefoy), both of whom have lost their memories due to the Red Queen’s defense mechanisms. The leader of the Sanitation Team (Colin Salmon) tells them that they were security operatives for Umbrella posing as a married couple inside a mansion that sits on top of The Hive. They also find Matt (Eric Mabius) who eventually reveals that he and his sister Lisa (Heike Makatsch) were environmental activists who were working to bring down Umbrella. Lisa infiltrated The Hive with the help of a contact from Umbrella, who is revealed to be Alice in the third act. Alice worked with Lisa to bring down Umbrella because she no longer believed in what they stood for. It is also revealed that Spence knew of Alice’s betrayal and stole the virus from The Hive, intending on selling it to the highest bidder. He also released the virus in The Hive, thereby starting the viral outbreak.
Resident Evil: The Final Chapter seemingly undoes all of this (I say seemingly because it’s possible I’ve missed something, but I really don’t think I have).
If Umbrella released the virus intentionally, then what was the point of the whole Spence reveal in the first film? Was he working under Umbrella’s orders to release the virus? If so, why was he going to attempt to sell it to the highest bidder if his future had one of three paths: 1) Live out the apocalypse with the remaining survivors, 2) Become infected and die or 3) Be cryogenically frozen with the rest of Umbrella’s elite and wait out the apocalypse until it was over. In all of those scenarios, money would mean absolutely nothing.
Next (and here’s the big one), if Alice really is a clone of Alicia Marcus and her first moments of life were her waking up in he shower in Resident Evil then that makes everything that happened before that null and void, thereby undoing the entire twist/reveal in that film. It could be argued that Alice was made a clone well before the shower scene, and that she really did have all of those interactions with Lisa. Dr. Isaac’s exact words in the climax of The Final Chapter are: “You have no memory because you have no life. Nothing before the mansion when we created you 10 years ago.” Once again, it all boils down to semantics. Does he mean they created her to be Spence’s fake wife and after a few months she defected to become Lisa’s contact? Or is the film completely ignoring her relationship with Lisa and saying that her waking up in the shower was her first moment on earth? The fact that the experiments being done on other Alice clones in Resident Evil:Extinction always begin with her waking up in the shower seem to support the latter, but the plot of The Final Chapter is so lazily thought out that it could be either one.
Again, I’m fully aware that you’re not supposed to watch the Resident Evil films for their brilliant writing, but you would think that after 15 years Anderson would have had enough respect for his fanbase to offer up revelations that actually work with the continuity he has created. As is the case with so many other final installments in horror franchises (looking at you, Saw: The Final Chapter and Paranormal Activity: The Ghost Dimension), logic and continuity are thrown out the window in favor of mind-blowing twists. It ends the franchise on a sour note for me, which is a bummer considering how much of a supporter of it I’ve been over the years. Oh well, at least it’s better than Apocalypse.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
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