I could talk about the Resident Evil movies about how bad most of them are (and they are mostly bad); I could talk about how bad Resident Evil: The Final Chapter is, too. It’s not exactly a “good” movie, after all, but the thing is this: Anyone can talk about a movie’s badness. It takes a lot more chutzpah to peer through that badness and actually say something valuable. In the case of Resident Evil: The Final Chapter, I get the sense that both Paul W.S. Anderson (the author) and Milla Jovovich (the star, who in this particular case is more important than the author) really give a shit about their fans, which is more than can be said of 90% of franchise fare, and that sense is what drove my review of the film for Paste Magazine. Hurray for positivism.
A Constant Visual Feast 