RELENTLESS STRESS
Also for: Windows, Xbox One
Can a game be too successful at something? That's the question I have to ask
myself after finishing this near-perfect game, still not feeling the spark
of joy that I should. Make no mistake, the game is brilliant - but it's also torture to actually play. Every dreaded hour of Resident Evil 2 felt uneasy, like I had no control, that I could suddenly make a
mistake that rendered the game unwinnable. And yet, that sensation is what its
developers seeks to evoke. It's just that it succeeds all too well.
Afterwards, the lingering feeling is that of relief rather than euphoria. I am
deeply impressed by the craftsmanship, but also have a hard time embracing the rollercoaster I've just endured.
Capcom's reimagining of their own classic zombie horror game of the
same title shifts the perspective from fixed camera angles to a third-person
stalking camera. Just like the groundbreaking Resident Evil 4 it puts all the responsibility of aiming into the player's hands,
whereas previously, you only had to point and shoot. With the added importance
of headshots against enemies swaying back and forth, this becomes a taxing
experience.
The game only provides a finite amount of ammunition and health pickups
against potentially endlessly respawning hordes. With very limited inventory
space, I constantly need to juggle priorities. Can I get by without killing
the slow-walking zombies? Or do I have enough ammunition to spare? Dare I risk
running past certain enemies? If I get bit, do I have enough healing items?
And if I let some creatures live, will this area get overrun when I inevitably
return? Such anxious worries don't equate to having a particularly "swell"
time.
Although I haven't played a lot of Resident Evil-games (this is but my third)
I realize I'm describing the core principles behind the entire genre. This is
a great example of survival horror. ÃŒn the more action-oriented Resident Evil
4, my favorite, the game kept track of my performance and provided the
neccessary items by design - it just masked it so well I never realized it
until reading about it later. But this remake shelves that idea and behaves more
like the punishing earlier entries.
The first part of the story, which mostly takes place in a police station
overrun by zombies, never allows you to put your mind at rest. And from there
on out, things only get more hectic. The horror comes through both jump scares
and lurking fear. There are places to run and places to hide, but the only way
to escape is to beat the game - or simply avoid playing at all. The horror is
so effective that the latter option is almost too tempting.
You assume the role of either Leon Kennedy, a young cop transferring to the
Raccoon City P.D, or Claire Redfield, who's out looking for her brother in
said city. Your decision takes you down one of two slightly different paths.
Once the first storyline is over, you can rewind and play the second part as
an abridged new game plus. For this review, I chose Leon's storyline. I
decided to skip the Claire parts entirely since the two narratives allegedly
clash, which tarnishes the overall experience. That storyline will have to
wait.
After a harrowing experience at a gas station, Leon arrives at Raccoon City,
only to find it in shambles. Fires are spreading, crashed cars block the
freeway and zombies walk the streets, attacking anyone in sight. After dodging
through a horde of enemies, he barricades himself behind the police station
premises, only to find that the station has also been overrun. A sole survivor
explains the situation, and tells him of a way to escape through the sewers.
He is badly hurt and expects to die within the hour, but Leon could still make
it - but first he has to find the secret way out.
The level design for the police station segment is inspired. It allows you to
explore its offices and cramped, dim corridors one section at a time, solving
puzzles, catching up with recent story events and fighting zombies to progress
further. It constantly loops back to a central hub, where you can save and
resupply, and unlock shortcuts to quickly get in and out. The automap is
great, revealing points-of-interest and what rooms you have left unfinished.
After a few hours the game introduces its crowning achievement; the hulking
Tyrant, a semi-giant mutant of a man who hounds your every step through the
station. Wearing a trenchcoat and fedora, his almost civilized appearance
makes him all the more scary, when combined with his dead stare and patient,
methodical walk. The worst thing is his unpredictability. He doesn't follow a
set script so much as his own A.I. which means he doesn't follow a set
pattern. Whenever you run or fire your handgun, he'll hear and come walking.
He is not fast, but indestructible and relentless - just like the monster from
the cinematic masterpiece It Follows.
The Tyrant is a gamechanger, and the element that nearly made me quit the
game. His loud footsteps can be heard constantly through the walls, as he
searches for you. Once he finds you, he follows you everywhere, except for a
few safe locations. If he hits you once, you get seriously hurt. A second
punch kills you. I will put it out there and call him one of the most
frightening enemies in gaming history. The way he crouches to get through
doorways, all the while staring you down, induces panic.
The entire game, its puzzles, combat and exploration, fits together so nicely it's hard to point out a single objective
flaw. The limited inventory, whilst a genre staple, is a grey area for me, as
it forces me to backtrack too much. Survival equipment is one thing, but I'm
not crazy about sharing it with puzzle items. I would have preferred a
dedicated, maybe even unlimited inventory section for fuses, keys, keycards
and other cruicial stuff to avoid some of the nuisance. However, after
completely exhausting the use of a certain key item, the game lets you know
that you can safely discard it. Clearing up more inventory space this way is
exactly as satisfying as it sounds.
I worked myself through the story very slowly and methodically. Every point of
progression came at roughly thirty-minute intervals. By then I would save the
game, quit, and take a long breather to brace myself for the next section.
Combining items for puzzles feels like a nostalgic throwback, but the puzzle
design feels a little dated. But I suppose it wouldn't have felt like Resident
Evil 2 without it.
The zombie infestation story is B-level schlock, which is perfectly fine as
it's the least important facet of this game. Also, it is presented in a way
that makes it look like a horror masterpiece. The character models seem
life-like, and the voice acting is convincing. The weighty movement animations
add further realism. The terrifying sound design, especially once the Tyrant
starts looking for you, never leaves you alone.
Resident Evil 2 does not lend itself well to screenshots. The environments are
too dark, the gameplay too stressful, and mistakes too punishing. The time you
take to line up a perfect shot could cost you a lot of progress. If you choose
the hardest setting, saving is a resource like health and ammo, which means
you can only save a limited amount of times throughout the game. You
could lose 20-30 minutes of progress upon death in a worst case scenario. On
the normal or easy mode you can save free of charge, but the spacing between
saving opportunities still adds a bit of anxiety.
You see the through line here? The stress; it runs rampant the throughout the
game. In short, Resident Evil 2 is no game for safe escapism and power fantasies. It is a taxing, oppressive commitment, a game for free weekends, meant for seasoned players
during the darkest times of the year. It requires you to clear a few hours of
time and dedication. If all the puzzle pieces slide neatly into place, this
could result in one of those flawlessly holistic interactive experiences of a
lifetime. It nearly did for me - I can only lament that the craftsmanship was
too goddang perfect.
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