What Resident Evil Reveals About Fear, Avoidance, and Courage
Spoiler Warning: This article contains significant spoilers for the ending of Resident Evil (2026).
When we first meet Bryan, the main character of the new movie Resident Evil, his biggest problems have nothing to do with zombies. He’s a regular guy, working as a medical courier, rushing to finish his final delivery of the night so he can finally go home.
The movie opens with Bryan in the middle of a tense phone call with his girlfriend Michelle, who has just told him that she’s pregnant – a surprise to them both. It’s abundantly clear that this is a conversation that Bryan is not ready to have. So, when another job comes up, which happens to pay double, he accepts it. In doing so, Bryan sets himself down a path towards what will undoubtedly become the worst night of his life.
Those who have read my previous work for Inspire the Mind will know that as both a PhD researcher and a movie lover, I’m fascinated by the opportunity to explore the stories I love – most recently, horror – through a psychological lens.
While watching Resident Evil, I was struck by the different ways Bryan responds to fear, particularly through both confrontation and avoidance. In this article, I want to delve into what these responses mean for our almost-hero Bryan and what these can tell us about the way we experience and respond to fear ourselves.
Persistence, Despite Fear
As part of my own ongoing “do it scared, but do it anyway” mentality, I have been challenging myself to watch more horror movies and take proper time after to discuss, dissect, and decode the stories being told.
So, this past week, I chose to be brave and despite my fear of the supernatural and monstrous, I delved into the world of Zach Cregger’s Resident Evil.
Bryan accepts the extra job because he, in part, believes that what he is delivering matters: "it could be some eight-year-old boy’s heart! Or someone’s mom’s brain or-". The double pay and the fact it’ll keep him away from home and the surprise pregnancy talk a little longer are incredibly welcome bonuses. With the possibility of saving a life in mind, he begins his honourable journey.
The late-night drive very quickly takes a turn for the worse when Bryan hits a wandering woman with his car. In the cold, dark isolation, he is scared to check on her, but does so anyway, unable to bring himself to leave someone hurt, and potentially dying, on the side of the road.
We, the audience immediately know that something is not right with her… But our protagonist Bryan, blissfully unaware he’s in a horror movie, attributes her strange posture and frozen face to shock and helps her into his car to drive her to the hospital.
Of course, this doesn’t quite go to plan. She goes full-zombie and attacks him – and things only get worse from there. What follows is a night of unimaginable horrors, bringing Bryan face to face with monster after monster.
Any sensible person would have turned around long ago. Bryan, however, keeps going, because he needs to deliver this package he’s decided is vital for some urgent, life-saving surgery. He is terrified of the vicious supernatural predators which lurk in the dark, and he persists anyway. It's "do it scared" in its purest form.
Avoidance, Because of Fear
The film also shows us fears far more familiar than monsters: change, and the difficult conversations that come with it.
Before Bryan encounters a single zombie, we watch him dodge the conversation with Michelle, and the film immediately has us wondering why. Fear of rejection? Of saying the wrong thing and upsetting someone he loves? Of something he can't yet put into words? Whatever the reason, it's a fear that most of us recognise, no mutations required.
That fear, as we go on to learn, is fatherhood and everything it represents. Bryan faces an all-too relatable dilemma: step towards something enormous and terrifying that could change his life forever, or wait for the elusive ‘right time’.
After a night of fighting for his life, encountering gruesome deaths, and making no doubt traumatising choices, the reality that he will never get the opportunity to have the talk he needed to have with Michelle hits him. At this point, Bryan has accepted that he is unlikely to make it out alive and so, in his grief, he records a voice note – which likely never makes it to her either – apologising for not having the courage, for being scared, and finally confessing that he was just terrified of change, fatherhood, and growing up. In another film, Bryan would be the hero, rewarded for such a revelation during a fight for his life. Instead, despite this revelation, it remains too little, too late – he'll never get to talk to Michelle again.
I didn't expect a zombie film to leave me thinking about the conversations I've been avoiding and changes I’ve been dreading. But Zach Cregger's Resident Evil did exactly that.
What makes the film so psychologically fascinating is how the protagonist approaches the supernatural versus human problems.
The monsters are horrifying, but they are certain. Their unpredictability keeps you constantly on edge and looking over your shoulder, but monsters are still tangible threats – you know the danger and so you fight, run, or hide. It’s straightforward!
However, with the human side of things comes uncertainty. Bryan’s fear is relatable but intangible. There’s no obvious right move, no perfect thing to say. To Bryan, that uncertainty and subsequent indecision is daunting, making “later” a relief.
Why Delay Feels Like Relief
So, if avoidance is so costly to our wellbeing, then why do we still do it?
If you are anything like me, then I’m sure that you are all too familiar with the concept of procrastination. Skip the thing that scares you and get immediate relief from anxiety, and your brain files that under "good idea." Psychologists call this negative reinforcement: a behaviour gets stronger because it removes something unpleasant.
However, this respite is temporary. Inevitably, the task being avoided catches up to you and it’s now causing more stress than it would have had you just dealt with it the first time.
For Bryan, this delay comes in the form of the extra "it pays double" delivery at the start of the film. He knows he needs to get home to Michelle, yet he accepts the job anyway. He says yes despite the repeated opportunities to decline and keeps driving even after realising his car is absolutely unfit to drive on the icy roads.
Accepting the job is the good, even sensible, decision; he could be helping save a life after all. And if that just happens to also delay going home and a hard conversation, great! Most of our avoidance looks like that: reasonable on the surface, quietly doing the emotional work of postponement.
Right before our first zombie encounter, Bryan calls Michelle to explain the change of plans – he can’t come home for their talk just yet (and of course he wants to!) because he had to take this extra high-priority job.
In fairness, rationalising his avoidance as the logical and selfless thing to do doesn’t make his motivations and actions insincere. It remains the through-line of the film.
It isn’t until he’s lost hope in his survival that Bryan realises it's time to finally say what he’s feeling. Except Michelle isn’t here. And Bryan can’t tell her about his fears of fatherhood and change. In his voice note, he’s deeply apologetic but he’s also grief-stricken over the reality that he is dying, and he’ll not only never see the woman he loves ever again, but they’ll never get to build and raise the family they could have.
Throughout his journey, Bryan time and time again actually proves he would make a great father. Except, the tragedy is that all the things that would make him a great father seal his fate and become the reasons he will also never get to be one.
I have always known that horror in particular is a genre audiences are drawn to as it can be a way of exposing ourselves to fear in a safe and controlled setting. What I’m realising with time is that, if we're paying attention, it can also hold up a mirror to the fears we are ignoring, even if those are the most important.
