(no subject)
i do not normally use this blog as a vehicle to express my divergent artistic predilections. however, as i am still twitching one and one half hours after viewing resident evil: apocalypse, i thought it best to discharge my ire before i present myself personally for human consumption.
overall, i was mostly entertained. i expected no great plot upheaval, and thought my revels would consist of little more than indiscriminate zombie carnage. here, and with this, i was not disappointed. there was but one small inconsistency that slithered under my skin and applied such insurmountable pressure i was nearly squatting in spilled soda and milk duds before the film's credits rolled.
unlike some who complain about apocalypse, i understand the seemingly deviant nature of the t-virus (which actually appears to behave, to me, more like a retrovirus, but that is an incredibly moot point). and, i can overlook the unexplained contamination of the dogs--the caged dogs (yes, that is correct; only that handful of zany genetically altered/trained-to-kill police dogs are infected, while hanging outside like every other animal in the city). what i cannot seem to wrap my throbbing mind about is what i will refer to as nemesis: the real reason why man is not long for this earth.
here is the sequence of events as we are encouraged to understand it: person is infected with the virus. person dies. person's basic engineer cells are regenerated (the digestive system, which recognizes the need to feed to survive is herein considered a sustaining function). person is now a zombie.
zombies bad.
in order to nullify the restorative efforts of the virus, one must destroy the synaptic pathways that directly control the appropriate "call and response" (chemical, electrical, "me want braaaaains"...what have you...) stimuli. this is achieved one of two ways: obliterate the brain, or severe the spinal column at the neck, preferably with a stylistic twist that sounds very much like crunching an apple.
our heroes, well aware of their duty, seldom fail to splatter gray matter here, there, and everywhere. budget-conscious extras occasionally aim for a chest or a shoulder, for squibs are abundant and relatively inexpensive, but mostly, there is a cornucopia of single-shot in-one-eye-screen time-oozes-out-the-other kills.
umbrella (boo! hiss!) is also aware of the deleterious effect a bullet has on one's brain, and therefore elect to outfit their champion freak of nature with, you guessed it, not a helmet!
chain gun...check.
leather apron...check.
bulletproof vest...check.
potential lifesaving helmet... ... ...
but, everything is going to be all right, big guy. everyone promises not to aim for your freaky large cranium. go on out there and wreak some havoc. be sure you are back in time for the triquel, though. i did not see your fingers twitch but that, that, would have been trite. i know you can survive an atomic blast.
they did not aim for your head.
[EDIT: i have considered that umbrella would reinforce nemesis' skull with bulletproof plates. this is, in fact, entirely logical, and seems to be reinforced in alice's flashbacks. however, there are a number of points leading directly to the brain they would be unable to cover (optic and olfactory nerves, ear canal) if they intended him to ever use them again. and, come on, really... we know the cardinal rule of monster killing: shoot for the eye.]
overall, i was mostly entertained. i expected no great plot upheaval, and thought my revels would consist of little more than indiscriminate zombie carnage. here, and with this, i was not disappointed. there was but one small inconsistency that slithered under my skin and applied such insurmountable pressure i was nearly squatting in spilled soda and milk duds before the film's credits rolled.
unlike some who complain about apocalypse, i understand the seemingly deviant nature of the t-virus (which actually appears to behave, to me, more like a retrovirus, but that is an incredibly moot point). and, i can overlook the unexplained contamination of the dogs--the caged dogs (yes, that is correct; only that handful of zany genetically altered/trained-to-kill police dogs are infected, while hanging outside like every other animal in the city). what i cannot seem to wrap my throbbing mind about is what i will refer to as nemesis: the real reason why man is not long for this earth.
here is the sequence of events as we are encouraged to understand it: person is infected with the virus. person dies. person's basic engineer cells are regenerated (the digestive system, which recognizes the need to feed to survive is herein considered a sustaining function). person is now a zombie.
zombies bad.
in order to nullify the restorative efforts of the virus, one must destroy the synaptic pathways that directly control the appropriate "call and response" (chemical, electrical, "me want braaaaains"...what have you...) stimuli. this is achieved one of two ways: obliterate the brain, or severe the spinal column at the neck, preferably with a stylistic twist that sounds very much like crunching an apple.
our heroes, well aware of their duty, seldom fail to splatter gray matter here, there, and everywhere. budget-conscious extras occasionally aim for a chest or a shoulder, for squibs are abundant and relatively inexpensive, but mostly, there is a cornucopia of single-shot in-one-eye-screen time-oozes-out-the-other kills.
umbrella (boo! hiss!) is also aware of the deleterious effect a bullet has on one's brain, and therefore elect to outfit their champion freak of nature with, you guessed it, not a helmet!
chain gun...check.
leather apron...check.
bulletproof vest...check.
potential lifesaving helmet... ... ...
but, everything is going to be all right, big guy. everyone promises not to aim for your freaky large cranium. go on out there and wreak some havoc. be sure you are back in time for the triquel, though. i did not see your fingers twitch but that, that, would have been trite. i know you can survive an atomic blast.
they did not aim for your head.
[EDIT: i have considered that umbrella would reinforce nemesis' skull with bulletproof plates. this is, in fact, entirely logical, and seems to be reinforced in alice's flashbacks. however, there are a number of points leading directly to the brain they would be unable to cover (optic and olfactory nerves, ear canal) if they intended him to ever use them again. and, come on, really... we know the cardinal rule of monster killing: shoot for the eye.]