‘Resident Evil’ has had a long and storied reputation in cinemas, but the franchise nearly got started off on a very different foot
Paul W.S. Anderson’s Resident Evil films have turned into a mega franchise, spawning five and soon-to-be six films in its undead library. The movies have gone from relatively humble beginnings to a full-out apocalyptic wasteland, pushing zombies as far as they can go in the process. While Anderson’s Resident Evil films have a unique history of their own, the films almost kicked off to a much more momentous beginning, with the granddaddy of all zombie films, George A. Romero himself, being tapped to bring the video game movie to life.
Way back in early 1997, Alan McElroy—most famously known for his movie adaptation of Spawn—was initially consulted for script duties on what was to be the early stages of the first Resident Evil movie. Things with McElroy didn’t pan out (although McElroy interestingly enough still receives a story credit on Anderson’s final film in 2002), and so Sony and Capcom eventually began recruiting Romero in 1998, after killing it with a directing gig for a Japanese commercial for Resident Evil 2. With Romero now on Capcom’s radar, the natural extension of this relationship made sense. Romero, the arguable inspiration for these games, was now in charge of helming the first film (which was hoping to see release in time for Nemesis hitting the shelves in September of 1999).

While Romero’s recent filmography might speak differently, it’s worth noting that he was initially hesitant at accepting this gig, stating, “I don’t wanna make another film with zombies in it, and I couldn’t make a movie based on something that ain’t mine.” This might have been all too prescient of Romero, as this ultimately would be Capcom’s issues with the director, ironically enough. In a deeply blunt statement from the same Electronic Gaming Monthly interview, Yoshiki Okamoto, a producer at Capcom said, “His script wasn’t good…So Romero was fired.” Romero somewhat addressed this in a 2000 interview with DGA magazine, elaborating, “I don’t think they were into the spirit of the video game and wanted to make it more of a war movie, something heavier than I thought it should be. So I think they just never liked my script.” Admittedly, Romero’s script, for better or worse, does embrace the hokey B-movie aspects that the first Resident Evil game is full of, with his dialogue particularly being much lighter than Anderson’s dour tone.
Even though Romero’s script (which can be read in its entirety, right here) didn’t jive with Capcom properly, he still had admirable goals for the game adaptation, treating the source material with respect. “I’m hoping that it can just be dark and chilling like the game—good zombies, good makeup, good effects,” he would outline. It even sounds like he had no interest in shying away from the gore either. He even gets into the MPAA by saying, “I’ve had the advantage, doing my zombie films, of not having to have them rated. I think for the US release it’s going to have to fall within an ‘R’ because it’s going to be an expensive film, and nobody’s going to take the chance of letting it go unrated.” It’s worth noting that while Anderson’s Resident Evil did end up with an R rating, he originally wanted to pursue a PG-13 angle, intentionally trying to appeal to a younger crowd.

What’s kind of wonderful about Romero’s script is that this is essentially his take on Aliens, only with zombies instead of extraterrestrials, which is a pretty fantastic idea, even if that’s not what the games were initially evocative of. His film would have seen a team of twelve strong-arming (and dying) their way through hordes of the undead. Romero really uses colorful script language to describe this world, even if his dialogue is cringe-worthy at times (although the script of the original Resident Evil video game is hardly American Beauty):
“The hot wave [of bullets] HITS. Two are VAPORIZED. FIRE engulfs two more. The BRAINS of two others are DESTROYED by flying debris…Arms are torn off. Iron shafts from shattered plumbing, shards of window glass, slats from picket fences…PUNCH through necks, chests, bellies…”
Later on in the script, his description of the game’s famous Hunter—an enemy that never even made it into Anderson’s picture—exudes a deep love for this world, “Ape-like…and lizard-like…with ferocious eyes that glare from beneath an insect-like carapace…” Elsewhere, other touches of his try to incorporate “grounded” details into the script, like how the Tyrant’s exposed heart comes from a rhinoceros. None of this colorization is needed, but it all adds important flavor and context to this universe, rather than just throwing unexplainable monsters at the viewer.

Romero manages to fit in a number of familiar horrifying faces from the video game, including Cerberus, Hunters, Plant 42, and wisely includes a huge fight spectacle at the end with the Tyrant, exactly the sort of showpiece a Resident Evil film should go out on. These are all moments that would have made fans freak out in the theater. The detail that I love the most though is that Romero’s version actually honors the multiple colorful key card aspects that became such an integral part of the games. The fact that Romero could find a way of working in the backtracking and unlocking rooms aspect of Resident Evil is pretty much the ultimate game nod as far as I’m concerned.
Paul W.S. Anderson’s approach on the material aimed to specifically veer away from the content of the video games, insisting that a direct adaptation would fail to have suspense as gamers would already know what was about to happen, or the execution wouldn’t meet their expectations anyway. Instead he spends his time on a lot of Alice in Wonderland allegory and evil computers, which is…something. Romero’s take is more of a mélange of the content out of the game, rearranging it as he sees fit, yet, in spite of its faithfulness in most areas, it was still deemed too different and inferior, for Capcom’s standards.

This comes down to a bit of a toss up in the end because Romero does honor the games in a number of ways, but also changes a ton and takes liberties for his own good too, which might have angered just as many fans (like Chris being a part Native-American civilian rancher who’s dating Jill, and brought to the mansion after zombie dogs attack his farm). Then again, the actual movies are all over the place with character deviations too (like Jill not even entering the scene until the second film, for example). That being said, Romero’s script makes the game’s iconic mansion (and its underground lab) so detailed and integral that they’re practically characters themselves, while Anderson’s movie merely hints at the mansion and focuses on the lab. Most importantly though, Romero’s version still has the T-Virus as the actual cause of the zombies, not some evil computer software and this “Red Queen” conspiracy, with Anderson’s films taking a while to work around to the game’s content, even if that wasn’t their original intention.
Surprisingly, a few scenes from Romero’s script managed to make it through to Anderson’s final copy in the end. Of course, the scenes that Anderson gravitated to the most are the ones that had nothing to do with the video game. That controversial laser room scene where those people get sliced to pieces? That was a Romero original, believe it or not.
Even though Romero’s script for Resident Evil seems to have just as many haters as it does defenders online, his take on the material certainly would have been a different trajectory for the film franchise. The later films in Romero’s career have kind of hinted that the man has largely lost his touch, and regardless of your opinion of Anderson’s original Resident Evil film, the series has certainly blossomed into a batshit, ambitious franchise. With Anderson’s film series nearly about to wrap up, it’s interesting to think about which other writer/directors could have given these films their own personal touch if they weren’t so unilaterally Anderson’s vision. Hell, maybe a reboot won’t even be that far off.

