RESIDENT EVIL: EXTINCTION

Reviewed 1/11/2012

Resident Evil: Extinction, by Keith R. A. DeCandido

RESIDENT EVIL: EXTINCTION
Keith R. A. DeCandido
New York: Pocket Star Books, 2007

Rating:

4.0

High

ISBN-13 978-1-4165-4498-2
ISBN-10 1-4165-4498-4 353pp. SC $7.99

This is a novelization of the screenplay for the movie of the same name, written by Paul W. S. Anderson. That screenplay in turn is based on "CapCom's best-selling video games." Previously, DeCandido has novelized Resident Evil: Genesis and Resident Evil: Apocalypse. He is a prolific writer and, having read this novel, I know he is a good one. He also does not take himself too seriously, which is the better part of wisdom considering the types of works he's chosen to novelize. (See below.) Perhaps he doesn't trust his abilities enough to take on original, more serious novels. Or perhaps he likes the ability to make scads of money from formulaic novels that practically write themselves.

Alice entered the dimly lit room cautiously. She knew that big cities were still dangerous places, apt to be filled with victims of the T-virus.

She whirled at a slight sound, Kukri blades at the ready. A shadowy figure loomed in the gloomy room.

"One move and you're undead," said Alice.

The above is my own invention.

What corporation can destroy most of the world's population, bring down the United States government, and remain in existence? The Umbrella Corporation.

The Umbrella Corporation is the most dangerous force on Planet Earth. It has, in its attempts to create a super-soldier, developed the transformative virus (T-virus, for short) which, injected into Alice Abernathy, one of its employees in its security division, conferred on her enormous powers. However, the T-virus kills most people it infects, turning them a few minutes later into shambling undead monsters who hunger for human flesh.

Such is the power of the Umbrella Corporation over the federal government that it was able to cover up not only the release of the T-virus from its main installation at Raccoon City (on an island somewhere off the northeast coast, apparently) but the use of a nuclear missile to contain that outbreak. (The cover story is a nuclear power plant meltdown.) But now the T-virus has escaped from its San Francisco labs and infected the entire world. In the entire United States, only scattered groups of normal humans survive. Among them are Alice Abernathy and a handful of rebellious associates. All are besieged by the undead unless they keep moving.1 Yet the Umbrella Corporation remains intact, continuing its development program. And its chief scientist, loose cannon Dr. Sam Isaacs, continues his nefarious (and unauthorized) work.

However, turning out a novel based on a video game has certain inherent risks. Carefully examine the logical structure of the game, and you'll find — how shall I put this? — plot holes big enough to swallow a Peterbilt cab and its trailer. The chief one is that the video game depends on a maximum of action — with frequent one-one-one physical combat that showcases the hero's or heroine's awesome fighting skills being the most desired form of action. Therefore, careful plot construction and character development are secondary at best. If the hero or heroine faces multiple adversaries armed with overwhelming force, who could easily kill him or her by acting simultaneously, you can bet that only one of them at a time will try. Such is the case with Alice in this novel. (I illustrate that in the sidebar.) Or, on the rare occasions where the adversaries do act together, the hero or heroine will be grievously wounded but will survive to fight again.

Examples are many. I recall a film called Ultraviolet (Instant pun: Just add "n") in which the heroine, armed only with a sword, several times faces fifty or more men carrying automatic weapons and lays them all out, emerging without a scratch. An even better example is the "chop-socky" epic Kung Fu Gold, where the villain faces a troop of men sent to arrest him for major crimes. As he stands in the road, they form two lines and attack him in alternation, one from the left, one from the right.2 He mows them all down in succession and calmly goes on his way.

Another hallmark of all video games is gory violence. Here too, Resident Evil does not disappoint, and the novelization follows suit. This bit of actual dialogue illustrates.

Throwing his head back, Gretsky started howling with rage, a noise that Timson had never heard any of the corpses make before.

Then he grabbed Moody and ripped his head off.

Timson's entire body felt as if it were made of stone. He just stood there and watched as Gretsky literally tore Brendan Moody's head away from his neck, as if he were popping the lid off a cheap beer bottle. Blood sprayed everywhere, including onto the camera that Moody's body was still holding.

With a supreme effort, Timson managed to turn his head. He saw Isaacs calmly walking to the door—

—and shutting it behind him!"

– Page 179

"Gretsky" was Dr. Isaacs' latest attempt to prove out a serum that domesticates the undead. It failed. He's delighted. Brendan Moody, not so much. Gretsky was supposed to be restrained by chains. That restraint was in vain. It's no strain to explain; the reason is plain: gratuitous pain.

Plot Holes

One is that Alice is afraid to use her powers of telekinesis. She'll calmly blast anyone who stands in her way as she travels the country rescuing humans she finds from the hordes of undead, but only with her assortment of guns and knives, or her own formidable fighting skills — made more formidable by the extra strength the T-virus gave her.

Another is that she has to hide at certain times from a surveillance satellite the Umbrella Corporation put up. Luckily they did not think to put up a geosynchronous satellite. Also, they can control Alice by means of a signal beamed from that same satellite, yet they never think to bring along a local version of the transmitter when they seek to capture her. (And I thought that, after she was brought to Detroit by the first use of that control signal, she disabled the implant that it made use of.)

Still another is that the undead manage to survive in great numbers, having by biting converted most of the human population into themselves. They apparently don't feed on each other, so what is their food source?

A related weakness is the comic-book evilness of the villain. Dr. Sam Isaacs is delighted to find his latest virus mods produce undead that explode in rage at the slightest disturbance, tearing people apart with their bare hands. This is his super soldier? And he has, in true megalomaniac-villain fashion, caused to be constructed an exact replica of the mansion fronting the site where Alice was experimented upon — right down to the defensive systems. So when he and Alice have their climactic battle there, although he's faster and stronger than Alice, he forgets about the defensive systems. He's about to deliver the coup de grace to Alice when the laser grid snaps on and cuts him to pieces. He can recover from sword cuts, even regrow the amputated limbs; but he can't deal with swords of light. "Don't lase me, bro!" And, luckily for our heroine, one of her clones turns off the system before the beams reach her.

Alice Abernathy
She's got no neuropathy.
She can do you in;
And she don't need a thing but her skin.

Chorus: Abernathy, Abernathy
Yes your cameras can peep her but you'll never ever keep her around, round round round, yeah.

TUNE: "Poison Ivy" by the Coasters

If you just want to kill a few hours, this novelization will do that for you: killing is its stock in trade. Based as it is on video games, it cannot offer more. Still, in its lowbrow way, it does a competent job of entertaining. The last scene is Alice on video to the head of the Umbrella Corporation, backed by her clones, dozens of them. "We're coming for you," she says. Can you say "sequel?" Sure you can.

1 How the undead manage to keep moving is a great mystery.
2 Miraculously, the bodies of these unfortunate policemen, whether dead or merely unconscious, never pile up and get in the way of the action. Another miracle of logistics is the climactic battle between hero and villain: in the course of it, they demolish an inn from the inside. Tom Loughlin's counter-culture film Billy Jack sticks to this rule, with its hero displaying awesome fighting prowess in frequent clashes with local toughs (in one, he throws a man several feet through a plate-glass window with a side kick) but is somewhat of a counter example in that the hero is brought down from behind while his attention is on someone else.
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