In the pantheon of video game-to-movie adaptations, few franchises have had as lasting and widespread an impact as Resident Evil. What began as a slow-paced, fixed-camera survival horror game in 1996 evolved into a global entertainment phenomenon. Capcom's iconic franchise—with its zombies, bio-organic weapons, and the enigmatic Umbrella Corporation—didn’t just define a genre, it launched one. Naturally, Hollywood saw potential in the eerie corridors of Spencer Mansion and the infested streets of Raccoon City.

But instead of a direct adaptation of the original game, the Resident Evil film series carved its own narrative path—often running parallel to, rather than alongside, the source material. Over the course of more than two decades, the franchise has spanned six live-action theatrical releases, four high-quality animated features, and multiple reboots and spinoffs, with more on the horizon. This article explores each of those entries, their relationship to the games, and the broader cultural legacy left behind by one of gaming’s most famous horror franchises.

Long before Lara Croft stepped onto the silver screen, she had already conquered the gaming world. Since her debut in 1996’s Tomb Raider, the daring archaeologist with twin pistols and a fearless attitude quickly became one of gaming’s most iconic characters. She wasn't just a video game protagonist—she was a cultural force. So it was only a matter of time before Hollywood came calling. But what followed was more than just one adaptation. Over the years, the Tomb Raider name has evolved across genres, tones, and actresses, from blockbuster adventure flicks starring Angelina Jolie to grittier reboots—and now, an upcoming Netflix anime that’s reigniting excitement in both gaming and film circles.

The collision between video games and cinema has become one of the most exciting—and at times divisive—phenomena in entertainment history. For decades, developers and filmmakers have tried to bridge the gap between interactivity and storytelling, pixels and performance, with wildly varying degrees of success. What started as a cash-in trend in the 1990s has since evolved into a legitimate artistic crossover, with games like The Last of Us getting Emmy-nominated adaptations and films like The Matrix inspiring groundbreaking games.

And yet, the path to adaptation is never simple. Translating a video game into a movie or series involves distilling dozens of hours of playtime, branching narratives, and player agency into a two-hour story arc—or stretching a compact movie plot into an interactive adventure. It's a delicate balancing act, and not every project pulls it off.