Resident Evil is a wild ride. Zombies everywhere and a shady corporation called Umbrella causing chaos. Survivors struggle to stay alive in this intense world. Action-packed, scary and full of characters you love from the game. You won’t want to miss it, trust me.

Meet the characters from Netflix’s Resident Evil

Richard Baxter

Richard is that seasoned, ragged-around-the-edges cop who somehow keeps showing up in the worst places (and somehow still has perfect hair in the rain — how?). Stoic but not emotionless, he’s the kind of guy who’ll give a single, terrible dad-joke before jumping into danger; protective to a fault and suspicious of anyone who smiles too easily. He’s full of small, human contradictions — bookish on a slow night, then suddenly a battering ram when something (or someone) needs saving. Honestly, you can almost hear him muttering case notes under his breath while making tea that he never finishes.

Wesker

Wesker is velvet-voiced, terrifyingly calm, and the sort of villain who wears a suit like it’s a second skin (and probably does yoga, which is wild). Brilliant, manipulative, and obsessed with control — the quiet brain behind the chaos — he’s equal parts corporate shark and weirdly sentimental dad, if that makes any sense. He collects people like chess pieces, but also seems to keep a shelf of old children’s drawings (don’t ask why you’ll just get an offhand shrug). There’s something theatrical about him; you expect him to flick the lights dramatically and actually do it.

Angel Rubio

Angel is the earnest, white-hot energy of the team — impulsive, loyal, and somehow both the funniest and most infuriating person in the room. He’s the cop-with-a-conscience type who will argue about policy and then dive headfirst into the middle of a mob because feelings, man. He makes terrible coffee and hums show tunes under fire (true fact? Maybe — my memory is messy), and yet you’d follow him anywhere because he cares like it’s a superpower.

Bert

Bert is gruff in the best way, the guy who says “don’t worry” with a scowl that somehow ends up comforting you, and who fixes things with chewing gum and heroic cursing. Practical, hands-on, and a little world-weary, he’s the backbone when plans fall apart — also, he keeps a ridiculous lucky coin in his pocket that he insists works (maybe it does, maybe it’s sentimental). He’s soft where you least expect it, like humming lullabies at 3 a.m., but don’t get him started on bureaucracy unless you want a ten-minute rant.

Simon

Simon is the quiet brainiac who looks like he’s always calculating the most efficient escape route (which is true) but also tells the best, most awkward jokes at funerals for some reason. Techy, anxious, hyper-observant, he notices the tiny details that everyone else misses and has a weird comfort in labeling things — like inventorying chaos, which is both adorable and slightly unnerving. He’s capable of surprising bravery, especially when a plan needs a clever twist, and will probably alphabetize your emergency supplies in his head while you talk.

Billie

Billie is the older-sister storm — prickly, fierce, and absolutely not here for nonsense, but with this secret soft center she’d burn the world to protect (dramatic, I know). She’s a natural leader with scars and one-liners, quick to act and quicker to forgive when it counts, though sometimes her temper does half the talking. She collects tiny souvenirs from places she’s been — like the world’s smallest, most questionable keychain collection — and bakes when she’s stressed, which is a weirdly sweet coping mechanism.

Jade

Jade is stubborn in a way that’s almost adorable when she’s not saving everyone’s life, young but sharp, with this blend of curiosity and survivor’s grit that makes her dangerously resourceful. She sketches things when she’s anxious (monsters, sometimes, sometimes cat cartoons), and she can switch from terrified kid to laser-focused problem-solver in one breath. There’s a softness underneath — she loves cartoons and hates wasting food — but don’t underestimate how ruthless she can be when it comes to protecting people she cares about.

Evelyn

Evelyn is icy, uncanny, and delightfully unnerving — like a child genius who learned how to smile while plotting, with a bureaucrat’s neatness and a godcomplex for flavor. She’s controlling in the chicest way, the puppetmaster with a calm face and a terrifying amount of patience, and she’ll say “we can help” and mean something much, much worse. Keeps chamomile tea on hand (why? who knows), and also organizes experiments like they’re tea parties — clinical, polite, and deeply creepy.