Zach Cregger Finally Made a Perfect Horror-Comedy With 'Resident Evil.' Here's How.

Resident Evil is hilarious, right until something starts screaming

Zach Cregger occupies a very strange space in horror filmmaking. Unlike Curry Barker’s Obsession or Kane Parsons’ Backrooms, Resident Evil walks a fine line between comedy and horror, featuring the same dark hilarity as Cregger’s previous films. It’s a tightrope he balances effortlessly, never undermining the tension of certain scary scenes but amplifying them in fascinating ways. You’re almost willing to let your guard down — right up until Cregger hits you with that heart-attack-inducing jump scare.

Comedy typically isn’t my forte; it was one of my primary issues with Weapons. Cregger’s previous film seemed to rely far too much on its comedic elements, often overriding the on-screen tension. The sketch-comedian-turned-auteur director clearly has a knack for finding humor in horrific situations, but that comedy always felt like it was competing with the horror rather than emerging naturally from it. Much of the film's ending is filled with gag humor and slapstick comedy, like James (Austin Abrams) getting knocked out multiple times or Gladys (Amy Madigan) being chased by the children. It all felt like it culminated in hijinks rather than something genuinely horrifying.

Resident Evil, by comparison, feels much more confident. It is first and foremost a horror movie filled with moments of blood-curdling terror. The jokes are just there to soften you up.

Cregger’s balancing act

One of the best examples is the film’s early dog sequence that occurs roughly 20 minutes in. Set on a snow-covered ranch near an abandoned house, the scene begins with the protagonist Bryan (Austin Abrams) being chased by a big, black guard dog in the wake of a car accident. Eventually scrambling into a barn unscathed, he races up a ladder and reaches the safety of the upper level, hitting the dog with a well-timed “Learn to climb, bitch!” as it scrambles to reach him at the foot of the ladder.

While easily hand-waved away as a throwaway line, the joke not only highlights the kind of character Bryan is — a sort of tool, if you will — but also the kind of movie Resident Evil is trying to be. Even in the thick of a rather harrowing situation, neither Bryan nor Cregger feels the need to drop the comedy act, and the jokes don't stop there. After poking the barn door closed (while throwing in a “Try opening this with no thumbs” jab), Bryan triumphantly tosses the ladder down at the dog in jubilation. Only ten seconds later does he realize he needs that very ladder to exit the barn safely through a nearby window.

It’s all so well-timed and brilliantly rendered against the backdrop of a severely tense scene. The whole event resembles the same kind of ridiculous situation that could happen to the player — or even an NPC — in a Resident Evil game. The audience succumbs to the campiness of it all, laughing even as Bryan hits the ground and suffers a minor leg injury. Cregger waits for the opportune moment. It’s not until Bryan is leaning up against the barn in a quiet calm after safely avoiding the threat when the director finally hits you with that needle-drop-jump-scare: The dog bursts through the side of the barn in a hail of wood right up next to Bryan’s face, so reminiscent of the games it might give even the most hardened veterans a bout of PTSD.

The scene works so well primarily in how Cregger lets the character's stupidity become the punchline without making Bryan himself disposable. Sure, he's a buffoon, but he's also someone worth rooting for, which makes him feel almost perfectly designed for a video game horror movie. It helps that Abrams brings a certain charm and conviction to the character that’s unmatched. He’s simultaneously capable and dumb enough to keep moving forward, yet somehow still likable after every subsequent horrible decision he makes.

The joke is the trap

It’s a fascinating turn of events, especially given that Cregger didn’t necessarily have that balance figured out in the first version of the film. In an interview with The Hollywood Reporter, the director revealed that he removed several jokes from the film after test screenings found Resident Evil initially too funny. He was almost walking into another Weapons situation, which likely wouldn’t have sat well with Resident Evil fans who know far too well how it feels to see one of their favorite franchises ruined by Hollywood. (Then again, fans are still complaining about the film’s comedy). Cregger also admitted he preferred the movie stripped of its overabundance of punchlines.

The restraint is important because Resident Evil has, of course, never been completely humorless. Although a survival horror franchise, the games have spent nearly three decades mixing tension with bizarre situations, ridiculous dialogue, and characters who seem completely unfazed by the nightmare unfolding around them. Encapsulating Resident Evil’s funnier side are lines like the now infamous “Jill sandwich” spoken by Barry Burton in the first game or Leon S. Kennedy’s unforgettable “Where's everyone going? Bingo?” declaration from Resident Evil 4. Even some of the series' more unintentionally funny moments, like Wesker's melodramatic “STOP! DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!” from the original game, have become part of the franchise's enduring personality.

Cregger understands that the DNA of Resident Evil isn't just viral outbreaks and gore, but the sheer absurdity of trying to survive them. By stripping back the excess comedy that bogged down Weapons, he turns humor into a trap. The laughs don’t offer an escape from the tension; they’re the setup for the punchline, and the punchline is usually something that’s horrifying enough to make your skin crawl, or sudden enough to make you jerk in your seat. It’s a surprisingly novel way to treat jump scares. You get a few seconds to chuckle at Bryan's misfortune, to feel like you're in on the joke, right before Cregger punishes you for letting your guard down.

Some purists will inevitably complain that Resident Evil leans too hard into camp, overly protective of a franchise they take dead seriously. But that friction is exactly why this adaptation succeeds where so many Hollywood attempts have flatlined. Cregger hasn't degraded Resident Evil by making it funny. He’s just honoring the franchise’s truest legacy by proving that the terror always hits hardest when you're already laughing at the sheer absurdity of the nightmare.

Resident Evil is in theaters now