They were a bit...bitey...

Silly, silly, stupid me.
I went ahead and watched Resident Evil: Apocalypse last night.
And it was diapers.

Thing is: I was almost certain that is was, in fact, diapers, but I didn't quite remember.
Now, not only will I have that little burnt smudge in my memory where that movie is, but I'll also have this right here.
So, excuse me a moment, I need to address myself: Paul, don't ever watch Resident Evil: Apocalypse again unless you are drunk as hell or you're trying to win a bet. It was awful.

Okay, everybody back in, we're going to take a ride in the Wah-bulance and discuss this shitty, shitty thing.

First and foremost: we all know that, anecdotally, the sequel is never as good as the original (usually; obviously there are dozens of exceptions). Sometimes it's because the first movie was meant to be a self-contained thing that begins when the film does and ends when the film does, but then it does well and some soulless corporate dude demands more money and has six more movies made, sometimes the people that believed in the first film and made it work don't want a sequel, they said and did what they wanted and they're happy...enter again soulless corporate dude to fire the original team and get some schlock makers in there...whatever the case, they change whatever it was that worked and make some cookie cutter shit that some demographic just gloms onto like blind, idiot children suckling feverishly at some mechanical teat filled with brain-melting yet delicious poison.
But this wasn't just "not as good as the original" bad. The step down in quality was just...stunning.
I was actually stunned at how little work seemed to go into this. There was a drop in the quality and detail of zombie make-up (which was more than somewhat noticeable in a zombie movie. Most of the undead just looked pale and grumpy), myriad awful camera choices (blurred, frame-dropping shots reminiscent of early 90's music videos and b-movies) and the introduction of a veritable parade of horror movie cliches: from the hot, tough chick (who decides to take on the zombie horde wearing sensible boots...and then a micro skirt and a tube top) to the tough but fair commanding officer type to the so-over-the-top street savvy black guy* (in whose every line of dialogue one could find the word "muthafuckah").
I wanted everyone to die all the time.
At least if the zombies won and consumed the earth, there wouldn't be any more bad writing...just the shambling, cannibalistic dead...which would be better.

Now, here's the really confusing thing...the first film was written and directed by Paul W. S. Anderson, the second, while directed by some other person was written by Anderson as well. So...what happened? Did someone just tell him to stop working so hard and just fart on some blank paper? Did he suffer a blow to the head? What the fuck changed?! Also, the lack of Manson's innovative score was palpable. Whoever they got to replace him did a bang up job of making me not notice the score at all.
Ugh.

And you know the worst part?
I'm planning on watching the third movie tonight.
SOMEBODY STOP ME.




*Read "pimp".