Uwe Boll’s video game movie adaptations are objectively awful, but I still had a good time watching most of them. Is it Stockholm Syndrome? Is it ironic? Am I just a glutton for punishment?
I watched every single Uwe Boll video game movie and I’m really worried I’m starting to like them.
So if you’ve never heard of Uwe Boll, he occupies a special place in film history. In a world of Tommy Wiseaus and Neil Breens, he sits as arguably the best maker of bad films, particularly in the niche world of video game adaptations. Frankly, the fact that studios and investors continue to greenlight his projects is a genuine mystery—one that’s arguably more intriguing than anything Boll has actually put on screen. I mean, who’s signing these checks? Is it a tax thing? It feels like a tax thing.
Yet, there’s something perversely fascinating about terrible films, isn’t there? Like, I think I’ve probably had more fun watching films that’d widely be considered shit, than movies everyone raves about. And as someone who enthusiastically indulges in cinematic trainwrecks, I felt it was practically my civic duty to watch every single one of Uwe Boll’s video game movies. Yes, all of them. Kind of. I forgot BloodRayne 3 and some I might’ve watched at 2x speed. I’m only human.
But anywho, consider this an act of public service, if you will. I would say there’s a spoiler warning in effect from here on in, but honestly you don’t want to watch these films, and also they’d need to have a plot to spoil.
But anywho, let’s get on with it.
Let’s begin our odyssey with House of the Dead, a film so loosely based on its source material it seems big boy Boll glanced at the arcade game once, shrugged, and figured, “Yeah, close enough.” The, *ahem*, plot features a group of young, vaguely attractive people who inexplicably decide that attending a rave on a secluded island is a fantastic idea. Of course, zombies quickly crash the party, presumably irritated by the horrendous techno music and questionable fashion choices.
To be fair, he did actually try something pretty interesting with this flick. He spliced actual footage from the arcade game into live-action sequences, which when described in isolation, could be pretty cool. But like I said, this film has basically nothing to do with the game, so it’s just so jarringly weird. You might as well have dropped Stardew Valley gameplay in Schindler’s List. It’d make about as much sense.
There’s also a rave in front of the SEGA logo.
And let’s not overlook the acting, or rather, the diluted fruit cordial version of acting we get here. Performances range from wooden to outright confused, with dialogue delivered as if the actors themselves are trying desperately to figure out what any of this means. You haven’t truly appreciated bad acting until you’ve watched a character attempt to emotionally deliver a line like, “Why did the zombies attack us at the rave?” with absolute sincerity. It’s simultaneously painful and delightful.
To be fair, out of all the films on this list, I actually quite liked this one. Don’t get me wrong, it’s unforgivably bad, but in the way you can enjoy with drinks and friends.
Next, we arrive at Alone in the Dark, another film Uwe almost seems to go out of his way to avoid the source material. Christian Slater stars as Edward Carnby, a paranormal investigator whose backstory is explained through an opening crawl of text so dense and convoluted it makes War and Peace look like a breezy beach read. In fact, the film’s overly elaborate mythology appears to be deliberately constructed to obscure the fact that nothing happening on screen makes any logical sense whatsoever.
Mr Slater attempts to navigate the chaos with admirable confusion, frequently looking like a man riddled with regret for taking on this role. Alongside him is Tara Reid, cast in the highly believable role of a brilliant archaeologist, which just feels like a massive troll job. Her lines are delivered with the dead-eyed, vacant stare of a wrestling backstage interview. And boy howdy, I’ve seen some bad wrestling backstage interviews.
The film’s action sequences are a particular treat. CGI creatures lumber awkwardly through scenes, their rendering quality reminiscent of a PS1-era game cutscene. Hey now that I think about it, that actually might be the strongest link to the original game.
But for real, while not quite up to the… high standards of House of the Dead, this is still a pretty entertaining film in the right headspace. Nonsensical and not very good, but silly enough to kill 90 minutes.
Then comes BloodRayne, Uwe Boll’s ambitious yet bewilderingly incompetent take on vampire lore, the game of the same name, and whatever else happened to catch his interest during production. Featuring an alarmingly high-profile cast including Ben Kingsley, Michelle Rodriguez, and inexplicably, Meat Loaf, BloodRayne tells the story of Rayne, a half-vampire bent on avenging her mother’s murder. While that sounds straightforward enough, the mad lad Boll somehow manages to craft a narrative that’s simultaneously simplistic yet utterly incomprehensible.
Ben Kingsley, who I must stress was by this point an Academy Award-winning actor, spends most of his screen time staring blankly into the middle distance. Michelle Rodriguez, meanwhile, approaches her role with some actual intensity, which would be admirable if only the script gave her something – anything – to genuinely react to. Meat Loaf’s presence, on the other hand, feels like a cosmic joke, and I kind of love it for it.
The action sequences, presumably choreographed by someone who’s only exposure to swordplay was watching a single episode of Xena: Warrior Princess, are clumsy affairs that look less like fights and more like awkward interpretive dances involving sharp objects. The editing is equally atrocious, with rapid cuts that make scenes difficult to follow and unintentionally hilarious at the same time. BloodRayne exists as a testament to Uwe Boll’s uncanny ability to assemble genuine talent and then utterly squander it, which is impressive in its own right. It’s worth watching just for Meat Loaf, though.
Oh God, I forgot I had to watch Postal. Based on a controversial video game known primarily for shock humour and gratuitous violence, Postal attempts satire with the subtlety and nuance of a sledgehammer. Boll’s approach to humour here seems to involve throwing every offensive idea he could muster onto the screen in hopes something would stick. Like the sort of stuff edgy 15 year olds would say.
Dave Foley (AKA Flick from A Bug’s Life) inexplicably stars, delivering each line with all the vim of someone whose financial necessities forced him into this role. The film careens wildly from one tasteless gag to another, missing the mark so consistently it almost feels intentional. It’s so bad it’s almost impossible to look away, and of the films on this list, it’ll leave you feeling the dirtiest. But hey, Uwe Boll plays himself. That’s something, right? Actually no, he claims, in an attempt at meta humour, that all his movies are funded by Nazi gold. Fucking hell.
Speaking of fucking hell, next we find ourselves confronted by In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale, based on the Dungeon Siege games, which I’ve not played and have very little inclination to do so after watching this. Jason Statham stars as Farmer, a character whose defining trait appears to be his occupation, presumably because deeper characterisation was considered unnecessary. Ol’ Farmer Boy finds himself battling orcs, dark magic, and his dwindling self-esteem across an inexplicably bloated two-hour runtime.
Supporting Statham are Ray Liotta and Burt fucking Reynolds. Liotta, in particular, is a joy to watch, chewing the scenery with a vigour suggesting he’s absolutely taking the piss the entire way through. Reynolds, meanwhile, oscillates between visible confusion and mild irritation, making each of his scenes unintentionally brilliant.
Action scenes in Dungeon Siege are plentiful but unremarkable, consisting mostly of chaotic swordplay, exquisitely awful CGI creatures, and extras looking like they’re just gritting their teeth until they can get to catering.
The absolutely mental thing is though, they let him direct two bloody sequels to this schlock!
In the Name of the King 2: Two Worlds, see’s Dolph Lundgren replace Jason Statham, portraying a modern-day soldier transported to medieval times, because why not – I’m long past caring. Lundgren, bless his stoic heart, approaches every line delivery as if trying to decode a cryptic crossword puzzle.
And then we’ve got In the Name of the King 3: The Last Mission, with Dominic Purcell filling in because I imagine everyone else was too expensive. I won’t lie, I never got around to watching this one. Can you really blame me, at this point?
But Boll’s cinematic ambitions aren’t limited to horror, medieval fantasy, or tasteless shock humour. No, he also tackled action-thriller territory with Far Cry, which is a personal sore spot for me because I freaking loved the original Far Cry games. I always thought the mixture of tropical landscapes, violence and soft sci-fi would make for a great film. But they had to give it to Uwe fucking Boll.
Til Schweiger as Jack Carver is emotionless, the villain’s master plan is vague nonsense involving genetically modified soldiers, and every scene drags like the whole crew was being paid by the minute. Action sequences—the supposed saving grace—are less thrilling chases and more leisurely jogs through generic warehouses. In fact, warehouses appear so frequently you suspect Uwe received a bulk discount for filming in abandoned industrial spaces.
So that’s about as much Uwe Boll as I could handle making this video. But you know what? For the most part, I had a good time watching all of these trainwrecks. There’s something weirdly comforting about them. Like trash TV, you can kind of just switch your brain off and enjoy all the mistakes, shoddiness and unintentional humour, without getting bogged down with silly things like plots, character development or anything like that.
They’re all just about competently put together and financed, that as long as you know what you’re letting yourself in for, there’s a lot of fun to be had. Or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment, who knows?
Either way, I salute you, Uwe Boll. Please don’t ever challenge me to a boxing match.
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Tom Baker
I like Star Wars, heavy metal and BBQ Pringles.
