Biopower and the Zombie Apocalypse
Michael Lee
The flashy new digs of the Umbrella Corporation | Capcom
I’ve Read This Story Before…
1998 doesn't seem that long ago. People still talk about Friends so much you'd think it was still airing new episodes. However, it is a substantial amount of time for culture to change, norms to become outdated, and technologies to be born with barely a passing resemble to their 90s predecessors. If we want to see proof of how things have changed, then look no further than the remake of the 1998 PlayStation classic, Resident Evil 2. Given a fresh coat of paint in 2019 because... well... remakes are a safer bet for studios than a new IP. Just look at Disney making money hand over fist with their middling collection of remakes.
The Resident Evil 2 remake doesn't just ratchet up the graphical fidelity to eleven, it offers an update that, whether the development team realize it, speaks to changes in society at large.
A pharmaceutical giant producing lethal drugs that cripple small town America... They somehow remain operational despite inflicting said epidemic on the public... The family behind it shrouded in mystery...
Am I reading a Purdue Pharma fanfic here? No, we're talking about Umbrella, the company behind the zombie outbreak in the fictional town of Raccoon City. A shadowy organization that was always present, but never overtly given an identity in the original games for the PlayStation. They were just a big faceless evil lurking in the background. Since then, the series has expanded the narrative on Umbrella. The choice was made for the remake to incorporate some of that newly minted lore, and apply it to the NEST, Umbrella’s secret underground lab. These changes created a version of the lab that is virtually unidentifiable compared to its 1998 counterpart.
The NEST is where William Birkin —the main villain of the game—toils away on the G-Virus, a new strain of the zombie virus at the heart of the series. Unlike the rest of the locations in the game that retain their original aesthetic, the NEST feels like a new beast. When the rest of the game stayed more-or-less the same, why change the lab? What does it say about how Umbrella's image has changed since the series' inception?
A Fresh Coat of Paint… And Then Some!
The original laboratory is gritty, filthy, industrial. It resembles bunkers from the Cold War era. Bare bones & functional, these spaces were not about having any kind of 'look' to them. The task at hand was all that mattered. The Cold War created a perpetual state of near-war, and as such stoked fear and insecurity. The response was to head underground and regain the lost sense of security. Joseph Masco writes about the "transformation of the underground, windowless room into a site of both global power and social dreaming." To claim space that would be removed from the perpetual crisis, the bunker in a way became a "Utopian vision of an invulnerable America, closed off from the outside world but still functioning..." The NEST of the original game operates, to an extent, on this principle. The threat to Umbrella was their competition. Another lab was producing a similar virus, so the move deep underground can be seen as a reclaiming of power by becoming impervious to potential espionage. To be closed off from the world but continuing to function, Umbrella could carry out its work without the fear of exposure.
The original game reveals very little information about how this lab is run, or who works there. There are only two files players can collect in the original game during the lab section of the game, and neither offers any insight into the history of the lab. The two files are "lab security manual" & "Instructions for synthesis of the G-Virus anitgen." No dirt on Umbrella here. We know very little of the company, other than that they're the ones making this virus, and possibly working for the government in some capacity, hence the secret underground lab thing. But, because they're pretty much a faceless organization, their lab is equally devoid of personality. We're supposed to project our own subjective evil onto the gray walls of the NEST. Who is Umbrella? We the player can fill in the mad lib.
Silicon Valley underground
The NEST we find in the RE2 Remake is fleshed out with company branding, modern living quarters, and a general sheen that brings the Umbrella identity to the fore. This is no longer a shadow corporation. It is a brand. Umbrella likely has a social media division in the marketing department. And while this might be a silly game with lore that is off-the-wall nonsense at times, the decision to modernize the NEST's look says a lot about the change in corporate culture from 1998 to 2019.
Instead of the decrepit, gritty functionality of the original lab, we are treated to clean lines, and neo-futurist touches. Very ahead of its time given this is still supposed to be 1998, and the lab itself supposedly built in 1991. The lab has the same aesthetic sense that modern underground commercial and leisure spaces use today. Like the Crysta Nagahori underground mall in Osaka, or the Lowline—an underground park space— soon to be opened on New York's Lower East Side. These are spaces that try to downplay the fact that you are underground by making use of light and greenery to mimic the surface world above.
Umbrella's image also borrows from the tech giants of today. The designs of the sprawling Googleplex or Apple Park would fit right in to the world of Resident Evil along side Umbrella's various buildings. Creating a 'livable' workspace is important. Even the naming convention softens the corporate image, the NEST—not only a home, but also a place where life is born—sounds a lot better than Lab #02.
The Silicon Valley tech campus is supposed to support a healthy work/life balance where you can enjoy leisure time in the same place you do your job. And while the Umbrella lab in RE2 is not as large in scale to have its own movie theater or a full gym for its employees, there is the unusual addition of the nap room, where we find Dr. Li taking a permanent snooze. This shows that even in the depths below Raccoon City, a secret underground lab is considerate of work/life balance.
biohazard biopower
The original lab was clearly a relic of the past. It brought back feelings of Cold War era secrecy, and faceless evil. Entering into the lab, you are struck by how miserable it is, and how the nameless folk who work here must be doing so because they too are evil. The architecture sets up an easy to read narrative.
The NEST is more nuanced in approach, and reflects the business practices and image optics of modern day corporations. But are we supposed to take this as critique?
Many of the systems employed by Umbrella -circa 2019- invoke Deleuze and Guattari's theory on Societies of Control, that technology partners with capitalism to create spaces where owners and administrators can monitor and control activity 24/7.
This manifests itself in the wristband technology that all employees must wear while on premises. Wearable, heavily-integrated tech is an interesting development of the last few years, as it is constantly on our person and streams data out to whoever wants to collect and use it. The NEST is no different, as the time spent in the 'nap room' is monitored. By measuring how much rest employees are getting, Umbrella could alter work schedules, limit time spent napping to certain number of hours a day, or create specific nap times. And in this day and age, managing sleep is anxiety inducing. This is one facet of the wristband here, but for my money, the main focal point of the wristbands has to be about access.
The use of technology to control movement through space creates "disciplinary sites of enclosure" and we see the power administrators can wield over employees in an email note from William Birkin who changes the clearance required to access the west wing of the Umbrella lab. The arbitrary rule installed by the boss dictates what spaces can and can't be accessed, and how that space is to be used. In the 1998 original, access to areas of the lab was limited only by power supply issues and ONE card key. This key opened two doors and once they were opened, remained open. There is even the option to discard the key once it has served its purpose. In the remake, if you leave the wristband behind at any point, you are no longer able to open any of the doors that require it. So while Resident Evil games have always had gates of some kind, to limit access and pace the game, the technology used to facilitate this somewhat carceral architecture was limited to analog methods. Simple lock and key situations, though they may have been grounded in digital technology —such as computer passwords that lock doors— they never required the level of pervasive surveillance on display in the new NEST. This kind of surveillance and control falls right in line with Foucauldian notions of Biopower, a branch of power that uses technology to control a population. The technology employed is meant to normalize specific behaviors, monitor employees, and limit/control access. By using wristbands to monitor and control employees, the capitalist class exerts their power over the worker through constant surveillance. This is all done in an effort to produce ideal subjects who are conditioned to perform a certain way and to have their labor extracted at maximum efficiency. Hence the nap room. Hence the controlled access to specific areas only. Do your job, don’t stray, but also here take a nap because we care. Yeah right.
Aren’t We All Raccoon City?
While it can be argued that Umbrella is a private company and can control or limit access however it feels it needs to, the idea of control and access to space is a real world issue, as we find more privately-owned public spaces emerging, where those in power (those financing these spaces) can control access, impose rules, and enforce them through security details. The Crysta Nagahori shopping arcade offers "unique open areas" to meet friends, but if you use that space for a purpose not intended by the owner—perhaps skateboarding through it—you may be removed. Similarly with the Lowline, despite projecting the appearance of a public park—with the intention that all are welcome—should a homeless person attempt to use the space as shelter from a nor'easter, they will be asked to leave, this is almost a certainty.
Leaving the power to dictate who can be where and when in the hands of an elite few is detrimental to working and lower class folks, as it strips any agency they have and allows the ruling class to dominate. This is where Resident Evil 2 might be a cautionary tale, as Birkin, being the one who controls access, made the decision to seal himself in the west wing, which in the end sealed his fate. His desire for power, money, and ultimate control over his lab was his undoing.
This new lab is a reflection of modern corporate culture, and shows us that behind the inviting common areas and clean façades are machinations of capitalist greed and the ruling class desire for power and control.
Michael Lee is the Editor of KOSATEN, and is currently pursuing research on Japanese fandom, with a particular focus on doujinshi and other fan-created media.
