More than ten years before Democrats, the mainstream media and popular culture conspired to make Hillary Clinton president, and to do so through an extraordinarily creepy cult of personality around The Vagina, “Resident Evil” (2002) arrived on the scene. At first glance it looked like we had just another zombie flick, yet another video game adaptation, one more pulpy, disposable, quick-buck cash-in on a Known Brand.
But like the prior year with “The Fast and the Furious,” another throwaway B-flick no one saw coming as a spectacular franchise now old enough to drive, there was something special about writer/director Paul W.S. Anderson’s “Resident Evil.” As far as nuts-and-bolts moviemaking goes, especially within the genre, Anderson delivered a beautifully structured story and, with a relatively small budget of $35 million, one dazzling action set-piece after another.
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