First Frames - The Resident Evil Series

I’ve never been able to resist a good sale.

As someone who loves games and is terrified of spending money, I’m constantly stalking clearance aisles and pre-owned sections of my local video game store, eyes peeled for a solid discount. But when I found every Resident Evil game half-off for a Capcom sale on my PS5, I…hesitated.

See, up until a few months ago, I didn’t get horror games.

For the longest time, the concept of willingly being scared was off-putting to me. Stephen King and his creepy clowns were actively avoided. I changed the channel or left the room when movies like The Ring, Paranormal Activity, or The Exorcist were on TV. And horror games? I’d started creeping into the genre with games like Five Nights at Freddy’s and The Callisto Protocol, but I ignored hard-core frights like The Evil Within or Amnesia: The Dark Descent. My thought was simple: “I hate being scared! Being afraid is a bad thing! Why would you pay to give yourself nightmares?”

But $60 for every Resident Evil game was tempting. As I stared down my monitor, I figured that maybe it was time to give the most prolific horror franchise in video games a shot.

So, trepidatious, I made the purchase, sat down with REmake (the updated version of the original Resident Evil) and dug in.

Then I played Resident Evil 2. Then 3. Then 4. I skipped Resident Evil 5 and 6 at the behest of my friends, who told me I was better off without them for the time being. So it was onto 7: Biohazard. Finally, a month and a half later, I finished Resident Evil 8: Village. Six games in six weeks. And my journey with Chris, Leon, Jill, and Ethan has given me a newfound appreciation for Resident Evil, horror games, and horror as a genre.

RESIDENT EVIL 1, 2, and 3: THE RACCOON CITY SAGA

Horror in video games was nothing new even before 1996’s Resident Evil. 1992’s Alone in the Dark had established a similar concept: exploration of a spooky haunted house complete with horrifying creatures, puzzles, and constant scares. But when Resident Evil burst onto the scene, it changed the game. Horror was no longer a tool used to make a good video game; instead, the two went hand in hand. Playing Resident Evil was like playing a horror movie, with fixed camera angles lending a concrete sense of cinematography and characters you’d follow through different cutscenes. The constant scarcity of resources created a dread unmatched in previous games. Now, when you ran into a zombie (like in the iconic first encounter in the Spencer Mansion), mashing X to simply fill it with bullets wasn’t on the table. You weren’t invincible; far from it. Sometimes, the best option was to run – sprinting down winding corridors and hoping more monsters don’t lurk around the next corner. And playing it now, 25 years later, it still retains that power.

REmake was, as you can guess, an absolute blast to play. It was still scary (despite the aging visuals) but not paralyzing; difficult, but not unbeatable. Some of the puzzles did feel too specific and vague, and some combat encounters felt closer to wrestling with the game’s tanky control scheme than a brush with death, but it was still a great experience. REmake set the scene for every other game in my exploration of the Resident Evil series.

Resident Evil 2 and 3 are very similar to the trappings of REmake. RE2 sees the player fill the shoes of rookie cop Leon Kennedy, exploring the Raccoon City police station in the throes of a zombie apocalypse. RE3 finds Jill Valentine, protagonist of the first game, trapped in the city during the events of the previous game, struggling to escape and stop the villainous Umbrella Corporation’s human experimentation. Through each entry, you’re navigating a large set piece, unlocking different pieces through puzzles, keys, and firefights with zombified citizens. They’re unmistakably horror games, and definitive ones at that. Jumpscares, gore, shadow-filled hallways, and dangers unseen abound. 1, 2, and 3 – called the Raccoon City saga in some circles – are well-known for establishing the “survival horror” genre, where facing off with zombies and monsters coincides with resource management, puzzle solving, and exploration. It’s worth noting that I played the remakes of each game, rendering it difficult to give an objective take on the original games. But if they’re anything like their updated versions, then they’re fantastic. Playing them back-to-back, especially the jump from RE1 to RE2, paints a clear picture of the leaps and bounds Resident Evil had made as a franchise in just a few years.

RESIDENT EVIL 4: the shift to action

Moving on to Resident Evil 4 placed me with a familiar protagonist, but a new setting, enemy, and whole genre. RE4 confidently jumps from survival horror to action/horror and does so with one simple change: killed enemies now drop ammo. Gone are the days of rationing bullets and searching frantically for lighter fluid to burn their stupid heads off. Now, blasting a possessed villager’s head off is encouraged – as opposed to running for your life if the going gets tough. As I searched for the President’s daughter in a remote European village, frights are still plentiful but take a backseat to the sheer action of it all. Throwing harpoons at a massive zombified alligator on a speedboat, sniping catapults on the parapets of a castle, and outrunning the head of a massive statue Indiana Jones style are all well within the range of RE4’s gameplay. It’s a dramatic shift from the three previous games, but it works well. Playing the original instead of the recent remake did take some getting used to, especially after the remakes of 2 and 3, of course. But it was well worth it. Leon and Ashley’s fight against the cult of Los Illuminados is riveting, action-packed, and not without its scares.

RESIDENT EVIL 7 and 8: BACK TO THE ROOTS

From RE4, I move onto Resident Evil 7: Biohazard. 5 was less well received than the smash hit that was 4, and 6 was panned entirely, so my Resident Evil friends and I deemed them skippable on my quest to understand the series. Thus, we jump from 2005 all the way to 2017, and the changes are numerous. We’re back to the series’ roots with a shift back to survival horror. Enemies are more imposing, action is less emphasized, and guns are less Call of Duty-esque. Biohazard also switches from the classic over-the-shoulder POV to a first-person perspective in the backwaters of Louisiana, following not a super-cop like Leon or Chris but an average Joe named Ethan Winters. These changes from Capcom go a long way to shake up the franchise and revitalize it from the mess that was Resident Evil 6. You’re back to exploring areas and solving puzzles, REmake style, and the frights are back in full force. It was the first Resident Evil game I’d played that genuinely scared me, and it was fantastic. Bosses are memorable, puzzles are interesting and complex, and the whole things feels like Resident Evil again.

At my final stop on the Resident Evil train was Village, the most recent entry from 2020. Continuing the story of Ethan Winters but putting him in a gothic European village (not unlike Resident Evil 4), Village was well-regarded at its release as a continuation of the momentum of Biohazard, and I can’t help but agree. It feels like the perfect marriage of 7 and 4, with survival horror elements in the exploration and puzzle-solving and action elements in the upgradeable gear and loot-dropping enemies. The villains, like Heisenberg and the already well-memed Lady Dimitrescu are mostly compelling and intimidating. Gameplay feels solid (namely the brilliant haptics of the PS5 version I played) and story is cohesive. Theres a wild twist ending with Ethan that I’m still not sure I love, but on the whole it’s a solid game and a strong conclusion to my journey through Resident Evil.

All in all, these games helped me learn to love horror. The moments where I was truly scared, like Village’s encounter with a giant, awful fetus, or 2’s constant pursuit from Mr. X, are forever seared into my brain. I see now why everyone loves this series so much. There’s something so satisfying about starting the game with eighty locked doors on your screen and next to no gear, yet slowly making your way through. As you progress, more becomes available, and you feel more and more capable taking on the horrors of Umbrella. It doesn’t get less scary, but it feels more empowering when you finally put the last bullet in the giant snake Yawn, or tear through a horde of European villagers controlled by mold, or parasites, or whatever Capcom thinks up next. And I’m glad I played them back-to-back. Seeing the progression from the very first game way back in the late 90s to 2020’s Village and the incredible evolution of the series was remarkable.

I can’t wait to see what Capcom does with Resident Evil 9, whatever that game may be. After my first time playing through the iconic franchise, I know I can count myself among the many who will be anxiously awaiting the latest return to the world of Resident Evil.