Resident Evil: Apocalypse review

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Paul WS Anderson is, by reputation, a nice guy. He probably loves his family, pays his taxes, tips generously and never double-parks. Let's assume, for argument's sake, he's an all-round beautiful human being, a paragon of such unimpeachable virtue that he makes Santa look like Charles Manson. And yet his pictures are so soul-sappingly soporific they leave you feeling physical assault is a reasonable form of artistic criticism.

Apocalypse may be slightly inferior to Resident Evil. In the original, Anderson wrote a functional script with a couple of potentially exciting set-pieces and screwed it up through his spectacularly hollow direction. Here, helmer Alexander Witt shows a bit more skill behind the camera than his predecessor. Anderson's script, though, is much, much worse.

Tedious and inept in marginally different ways to the original, this zombie drone is soulless and scare-free. Someone bury this franchise.

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