Tuesday, January 08, 2013

Retribution, My Ass!

As you can well imagine, Decubitus Reader, I am a collection of bad habits. The pattern shifts a bit depending upon the season, locale, occupation, social standing, wanted level, etc. but in the end, it's all about standard deviations from the norm - with the norm being standard deviance. One of these bad habits is the Resident Evil film franchise. Fuck me, I'll sit down to watch one of these like your white-bread teenaged son watches gay porn: first, he wonders how this event came to pass; second, he eats, drinks, or does both heavily in order to alleviate awkward feelings; third, he masturbates while pretending not to fantasize about the material; and finally, he destroys all evidence of its existence. For me, the third stage is metaphorical or altogether nonexistent whereas for your son, not so much, but the point here is that at the end of the day, I can sympathize with the li'l bastard because the Resident Evil films bring me to Christina Aguilera levels of dirrtyness and the most recent entry, Resident Evil: Retribution, is no exception.

My biggest complaint about this particular film is the utter lack of retribution. As defined by Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, 1913 Edition,* retribution is that which is given in repayment or compensation; return suitable to the merits or deserts of, as an action; commonly, condign punishment for evil or wrong. The punishment itself, as well as to whom and by whom it is given is purely a matter of drunken conjecture since to writer/director Paul W. S. Anderson, the term means zombies driving off-road vehicles and firing rocket-propelled grenades.

Aside from that (and the overall stupidity of the franchise) I can't fault Anderson for much. Sure, I complain about the quality of his films but I won't begrudge Anderson his good fortune because, basically, people throw money at him to make a movie about zombies, explosions, and some lady portrayed by his wife (whose name is radical, by the way). What's more, other people then pay to see that shit.** Essentially, his job consists of getting paid to play with his significant other inside a sandbox laden with special effects technology; and that, folks, is a lifestyle worth endorsing.

* It's the only dictionary I use!
** To be fair, someone else paid the rental fee, but the point still stands and if it's any consolation to you, my psyche paid a price all its own.

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