RESIDENT EVIL VII: BIOHAZARD
2017’s first must-have shocks for (nearly) all the right reasons
Mortal Kombat X has just been eviscerated: in the all-time list of violent PlayStation videogame nasties, Resident Evil’s first-person reinvention has revved up a chainsaw and carved its way to the top. I’m not squeamish, but one early scene of violence is so distasteful I turn to my wife and ask: “Can they really get away with that?” Capcom may have ducked the censors, but I smell tabloid outrage (“Depraved! Sick! Immoral!”) incoming over the searing scenes of torture and body horror. I also detect heaps of praise from the Resident Evil fandom. You can officially consider this a faltering series no longer… although VII does try its best to undo some of its hard work deeper into the adventure.
HOUSE PROUD
Everything you’ve seen so far? All the tiptoeing around a dilapidated Louisianan plantation, hiding from angry, invincible Baker family members and sniffing out keys to unlock new parts of the estate? That only forms half the experience, and it’s a chapter that rivals absolutely anything from the series up until now.
The core mansion, hemstitched with fear and riddled with architectural idiosyncrasies that have defined Resident Evil from day one, is as iconic
“CAPCOM MAY HAVE DUCKED THE CENSORS BUT I SMELL TABLOID OUTRAGE: DEPRAVED! SICK! IMMORAL!”
as the Spencer Estate. Considerably smaller, it must be said, but no less evocative.
“Who builds this sh*t?” exclaims playercharacter Ethan after placing a bizarre object on top of a plinth and rotating it so that the shadow cast by an old projector lines up with a silhouette on a painting; a process that causes the wall to swing open and reveal a narrow secret passage. He’s talking about the puzzle, of course – a deeply illogical construction that has no purpose in the house other than to give me access to an otherwise inaccessible room – but he might as well be asking about the entire house.
From underlit, monster-riddled basement to quiet, unnaturally still attic, its atmosphere feels imported from a freshly discovered time capsule that was hermetically sealed in Capcom’s HQ back in 1996 after the original game’s production ended. The same is true for the other buildings found dotted around the Bakers’ compound.
“Who builds this sh*t?” then? That one’s easy: a development team scorned by years of mixed reviews and of dwindling fan support, and a studio desperate to revive Resident Evil’s fortunes and rediscover what made the series into such a phenomenal success in the first place.
BAKERS’ COVEN
There’s no question the team has succeeded. For five hours, Resident Evil VII is every bit the 10/10 game we predicted back in OPM #131. The meandering treks through dingy corridors are among PS4’s premier horror experiences. Each wooden board, pane of glass and nail used to build the Louisianan setting has been placed according to Newton’s Third Law: for every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction.
In this case, the thrill of unlocking a new room is instantly dissipated by the fresh wave of revulsion at the grim discoveries hiding behind the door; the relief at every herb and ammo pack pocketed is balanced out by the swell of dread at the understanding that I’m being gifted these items for a reason; the surging terror of a frantic chase is matched only by the incredible elation of shrugging off my pursuer. Screams and laughs, winces and sighs of relief; the combination of nostalgic flashbacks and modern design ideas gel so seamlessly that it’s easy to forget it hasn’t always been this way.
There are unnerving parallels between the world and its effect on players’ psyches. In the opening minutes sunlight quickly gives way to nighttime, and after some hard-hitting shocks in the punchy prologue chapter I’m left creeping over raggedy carpets and through creaky hallways, sanity fraying as the indestructible Jack Baker gives chase. These games of hide-and-seek with the family are unpredictable and unbearable – at one point I find myself cowering on the bottom floor of the grand hallway, desperately trying to match Jack’s movements on the balconies above so that he doesn’t create an open line of sight, spot me and
“THE MANSION IS EVERY BIT AS ICONIC AS THE FIRST RESIDENT EVIL’S SPENCER ESTATE.”
Below
Even our Jen doesn’t swear as much as Marguerite Baker. Shocker. come charging down the main staircase with his shovel held aloft, intent on bashing my brains all over the floor.
By the time I reach a nearcollapsing swamphouse, with broken wooden walls and flooring that’s sunk into the murky waters of the bayou below, my touchpoint to reality has as good as rotted away. It’s at this point, followed by a thoroughly welcome return to the main house (a trick that mirrors the Guardhouse and the return to the main mansion in the first Resident Evil), that Resident Evil VII builds up to its pinnacle: genuinely scary, how-the-hell-do-Isurvive-thisnightmare boss encounters, exquisitely drawn-out frights and stomach- troubling gross-out moments all tumbling into one bubbling cauldron of rising momentum that has to be played to be believed.
FINDING GORY
But just as my mind begins to completely unspool from the full effect of what’s as close to being a perfect first half as I can imagine, so too does the game’s focus. As you’ve no doubt noticed, the score over on p80 isn’t a 10, and that’s because the second half of Resident Evil VII loses sight of its successes and trades patient, atmospheric tests of nerve for a stronger action bent that resembles the series postResident Evil 4. It also swaps the mesmerising plantation setting for two entirely different locations, neither of which can even begin to match up to what’s come before.
There are still isolated patches of terror, including a superbly judged weaponless situation – but to be frank, the rush to the credits sacrifices games of cat-and~mouse for all-out slaughter. Thankfully, the action is consistently great. Zombies don’t make an appearance (and their absence is definitely a missed opportunity); however, the new standard enemies, the Molded, are excellent adversaries.
Born out of clumps of the black slime found slathered over surfaces, the Molded are frighteningly powerful bipedal freaks that lurch from side to side at a cadence that proves to be terrifyingly adept at dodging handgun bullets.
In the first hours, ammo and health is scarce enough to leave me limping away from most battles barely intact, with fewer bullets and shells left than fingers. Stumbling backwards and frantically firing forwards as the monsters wheel their way towards me with fangs and claws prepped for shredding is never comfortable given that, at any point from start to finish, one mistake can see a single Molded kill me with no trouble.
Eventually, I find myself armed to the teeth with more weapons, ammo and health than I know what to do with. Limited inventory slots stop me going full Commando, granted, but there’s definitely a shooting gallery element to the twilight hours. It’s a perplexing switch in tone – surely Capcom didn’t feel it still needed to cater to fans of Resis 5 and 6? – but I’ll begrudgingly admit that dismantling Molded with grenade launchers and machine guns is still fun.
What happened to variety, though? Resident Evil started off with zombies, but pretty soon it introduced dogs, giant tarantulas, Hunters and more. Resident Evil 2 pitted us against zombies first of all before turning to Lickers, Tyrants and so on to coax out the sweat beads. Take the Baker family out of the equation and Resident Evil VII has the Molded and some insects. Admittedly, there are different subspecies of Molded, but ultimately they’re all dark sludge monsters.
WHO SCARES WINS
Still, the first-person gamble is an inspired one. Clomping around the world in thirdperson would have been fun, but by looking through the eyes of Ethan – especially if you’re opting to play in VR – you’re thrust deeper into the nightmare, and Capcom’s not afraid to take advantage of this fact. Near-photorealistic visuals in places and a hideous disregard for personal space on the part of the Baker family (I lose count of the number of times they end up screaming in my face) are fine replacements
for the first Resident Evil’s infamously unhelpful fixed camera angles when it comes to dreading what’s lying in wait. When it wants to play for scares, it does so exceedingly well.
The plantation peregrination is about more than pure peril, however. The realistic visual style and the lack of the classic visual item glint effect demands you play the part of a magpie as well, searching high and low for hidden treasures and the occasional puzzle item. Meticulously hunting down the house’s secrets and scooping up precious ammo is a joyful timesink, swallowing psychostimulant pills to uncover hard-to-spot goodies a thoroughly welcome new cartilage for the classic Resident Evil skeleton. There are useless items too. Grabbing and inspecting animal corpses and voodoo dolls might not grant any bonuses, but helps immerse you even more.
Another cute new item-hunting feature? That would be the Polaroid pictures of hidden treasure spots, which demand watchful eyes and gift invaluable goodies when solved. That these hunts take place under threat of a Baker popping up for a deadly game of tag means I’m frequently on edge while sniffing out the secrets; low inventory thresholds further heightens this internal struggle as I’m forced to make daring dashes to and from classic Resi Item Boxes without ever being truly sure if the routes are clear.
Again, it’s a formula that works so well it’s downright bizarre that the overall pace shifts from harrowing horror to Saw-style boobytrapped areas to blanket arcade action, trampling these secret-seeking side-quests underfoot in the process. Whether it’s down to a lack of faith in the more sandboxy plantation or an exhaustion of ideas, the second and third chapters feel plucked from a different game. Not a bad one, just not as special.
AFTER HOURS
If you’re one of the many who rinsed the free Beginning Hour demo, which hinted at deep secrets and brain-tickling conundrums, know that the puzzling aspect plays a smaller role than you might expect. Early hunts for crests and keys aside, there’s not much in the way of sticking points. When puzzles do crop up, the clues are clear to the point of straight-up providing the solution, and never threaten to cause trouble – one portrait- rotating lock is flat-out embarrassing when compared with the classic birth-to-death picture puzzle found in the first game’s killer crow corridor.
You also shouldn’t expect to find yourself turning to a Mercenaries-style side-mode after the story’s done, either. Resident Evil VII is one of the leanest entries to ever bear that famous brand, and isn’t a game that can be revisited for anything other than another trek into the campaign at higher difficulties – at least until the DLC chapters, with wacky-sounding Jack-feeding elements, drop later this year.
“THE OVERALL PACE SHIFTS FROM HARROWING HORROR TO BLANKET ARCADE ACTION.”