BY CARBOLIC SMOKE BALL MAN-HATING FILM CRITIC MISS VELVEETA ANDRY: Miss Andry generally does not squander her precious film-going time on "action" flicks, since these usually are scripted to appeal to brain-dead, testosterone-poisoned young white males, which means they are utterly lacking in anything of value. But Resident Evil: Extinction is that rare exception, a cornucopia of feminist delights.
Set in a desolate, post-apocalyptic world where the mostly male zombies kill and devour innocent human flesh (what did you expect?), a small band of the sisterhood survives to eradicate the evil. (Oh, and a few males assist the womyn heroes.) Without giving too much away, the heroes are ass-kicking, ball-busting womyn who not only fight better than the males (as is true in every modern war film, and I am sure in real life, too), they are also nurturing, spiritual beings, which, of course, the males are not. All the "good" males (an oxymoron, I know) helping the women fight the zombies are killed because they are not as strong as the womyn; they are a metaphor for the small band of weak but well-intentioned male allies in the feminist revolution.
Naturally, the corporation that let loose the virus that created the zombies in an earlier Resident Evil film is comprised entirely of evil white males (a redundancy, I know). In this film, that same corporation is busy bio-engineering beautiful, naked young womyn, also spiritual beings, who are clones of the bio-organic star, a character named Alice. The evil corporation purposefully kills the clone-womyn in horrible ways and throws their battered bodies in a giant ditch. Has there ever been a more apt metaphor for the patriarchy? In case you are wondering, there is zero affirmative action in this corporation, not even a token female. This, of course, mirrors all major companies in America where, I am quite certain there is not a single female employee in any of them. You see, Hollywood at its politically-correct best truly "gets it right" -- holds a mirror up to society.
The ending should send a chill up the scrota of every male in the audience: Alice, the bio-organic star, tells the evil white corporate men that she and her army of naked sister clones are coming for them. I frankly experienced orgasm when she said that and can't wait for the sequel!
While this film isn't as important as last week's landmark in male-bashing The Brave One, it nevertheless deserves THREE BREASTS.
