Outside of the gorgeous remakes, Capcom’s contemporary revival of Resident Evil has kept the canon at bay. As a proxy protagonist, Ethan Winters allowed the developers to escape the baggage of the past and chart a first-person path forward in Resident Evil 7 that was edgy and exciting, restoring much of the series’ reputation along the way. But as much as I enjoyed the melodramatic gothicism of Resident Evil Village, it still felt like a spin-off, and I was waiting for an entry that would wield the lessons learned from this new era to contribute something more meaningful to the lineage. I’m pleased to say that Resident Evil Requiem is that game.
By blending the fledgling Grace Ashcroft with a seasoned veteran like Leon Kennedy, Requiem straddles the entire franchise and allows the best parts of the remakes to tie in neatly with the spine-tingling terror of the Winters duology. Requiem is ambitious in how it constantly jumps between perspectives and survival horror schools of thought, and this is backed by some earth-shattering narrative twists that make it feel like a memorable entry into the Resident Evil canon. If you’re into the esoteric lore and complex characters that underpin this historic series, then Requiem will feel like a banquet after years at the snack bar.
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One of my favourite aspects of Resident Evil Requiem is how viscerally gross it is. Fans will be more than comfortable with the series’ penchant for disgraceful-looking, parasitic monsters, but there are some Cronenbergian beasts in here that will give your stomach a run for its money. The first act of the game is spent inside the Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center, a cruel den of experiments for Dr Victor Gideon, a goggled scientist whose face has been given the opposite of a nip-and-tuck.
Gideon looks and talks a bit like Heath Ledger’s Joker, and his unpredictable speaking manner and yuck mannerisms provide a menacing impression in cutscenes, further enhanced by his imposing stature. But it’s his subjects who steal the show, their melting eye sockets and burnt skin drawing real dread out of me as I crept through hallways and solved gory puzzles. The inpatients and staff retain little pieces of humanity here, so cleaners and chefs continue their old vocations, voicing once-legible thoughts into the aether, and scrubbing Grace’s face with bits of glass if you’re unlucky. You almost feel sorry for them, as you are forced to turn their brains into chewy putty.
Requiem’s more grounded setting and evil abduction premise ratchet up the terror considerably. Though she quickly becomes a likeable, Ellen Ripley-evoking hero, Grace Ashcroft is by no means a typical Resident Evil protagonist at the start of the game. The Dualsense shudders when she trips during a sprint, and her lack of confidence with weapons makes her sectors feel desperate by design and more Silent Hill-esque than anything Resident Evil has done before. Of course, there’s a post-human beast to contend with that you’ve likely spotted in the trailers, and their haunting presence is felt throughout the floors of this cornucopia of discarded organs.
The tried-and-tested metroidvania environments mould well to Grace’s playstyle here, and the puzzles stay short of being so complex as to harm the pacing, but still feel distinctly challenging and clever. In this half of the game, you get to creep around holding your breath and play cat and mouse with bosses, fearing every corner and conserving your ammo as you sink into the shocking lore surrounding Gideon’s exploits.
Then, we smash cut to Leon Kennedy, who is unloading SMG clips into meaty goliaths and smushing zombie faces into walls with his boot. Kennedy’s murder-sprees generate gamey points you can funnel into weapon upgrades, and the slick way in which environmental assets are launched and swung in combat alongside his hatchet combos makes you feel like you’re playing one of Capcom’s beloved character-action games instead. It’s peak third-person Resident Evil gameplay in that sense, the crunchy gunplay and fluid animations inducing giggles — and then gulps — when blister-headed enemies explode in showers of sinew.
This ludicrous other side of Requiem’s story is carefully woven into the narrative as the two protagonists’ stories intersect. Naturally, Leon is also hunting Gideon for his crimes against nature, and the occasional meet-cutes allow for some flabbergasting set pieces where it’s unclear which party will play the saviour. Throw in some fascinating supporting characters like Gideon’s blind subject Emily (and the rest, which I can’t get into here), and we have a pithy ten-plus-hour campaign that fails to surface any memorably dull sequences. Capcom has been careful to prune away the chaff here — just when you think you’re bored of playing as Grace or Leon, a forklift will crash through a wall, or a helicopter escapade will have you lurching in aberrant directions on the sofa.
Requiem’s white-hot pacing and stylish combat are further propelled by the RE Engine’s enduring visual gusto. Whether you’re skulking through dank caves to activate forklifts or blasting your way through a rain-slick street, the fidelity on display here makes for a wonderfully realised adventure — while comparisons are limited in terms of scope, Requiem has easily dethroned Death Stranding 2 to become the best-looking game on the PS5 Pro. Every single time a zombie lays its hands on you in Requiem, the visual moment feels devilishly handcrafted and contextual to your scenario. One of the earliest Leon encounters centres around a classic chainsaw zombie, but you soon notice that the weapon is a live hazard in Requiem that can be passed around enemies and picked up to turn the tide. Capcom is not comfortable settling for simple fan service here.
And not to get too into the dynamics of blood splatters and eerie lighting, but the way Requiem makes each of its spaces terrifying through atmospheric details and delicately creaky sound design (even as it spans night and day) is extremely impressive. Requiem is far more cinematic than its peers, dare I say a bit David Fincher-esque in spots, with colour grading that evokes the grit of a late-night detective serial. I also thoroughly enjoyed how Capcom tempered broader spaces to explore here rather than revel in classic staples of confinement, of which the developers are, at this point, pre-eminent masters. It speaks to a confident new vision for the series after years of reinventing the wheel — one I’m excited to see continue, especially given the confounding narrative threads Capcom has chosen to grapple with this time around.
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The Verdict
Easily the most enjoyable aspect of Resident Evil Requiem is its comforting centre of gravity. Through the remake continuity, Capcom has figured out how to make Resident Evil games feel like reliable fun, but few entries have stuck in my memory like Requiem, thanks to its rare balancing act of action, storytelling, and dread. Some entries border on B-movie saccharine schlock, while others strip away too much of the charm, or languish thanks to an inundation of repetitive gameplay. There always seems to be some kind of demerit that this series can’t quite sidestep. Yet with Requiem, Capcom seems to have found the centre of this Venn Diagram, creating an immersive, expectation-flipping game that can make you crash out, crack up and cower in fear, without longing for something different in the aftermath.