
Way back, when you saw guns in a video game, you automatically assumed it was an action-packed romp. You ran, you shot things, and you tried not to collide with enemy sprites or projectiles. You occasionally monitored a limited supply of munitions, but you had little fear that you would run out entirely because crates that filled with them littered the grounds. With each beat, the rising tide of chaos grew to intensity until enemies filled the screen, just itching for a shot between the eyes or into their thrusters. Sure, you always started these with piddly peashooters, but you eventually secured explosive and rapid-fire arms for dealing with heavy foes.
As a teen in the '90s, a game like Resident Evil seemed like it would be an intense zombie shooter. I mean, the cover art has a guy holding a gun. How could it not be standard blasting fare? But I popped the game into my PlayStation, and it immediately told me one thing: “I don't care about your stupid guns.” I opened fire on a zombie, finding that it took most of my tiny initial supply of ammo to fell it, but then the thing rose again. I thought maybe I'll find a restock nearby, but no such luck until ages later. Yes, I was then the proud owner of fifteen more bullets. Meanwhile, the undead and their coworkers at Spencer Mansion infested the place. There was no way in hell that small cache was going to hold me over...
And that's the point. Guns always equated power always equated security. Here, though, you're meant to fear for your life. Resident Evil proves to be an immersive experience by dumping you in the midst of legion of monsters, providing you with only so many supplies with which to survive, and pitting you against beasts that aren't always easy to dispatch. You aren't empowered here. You're the goomba.

You're part of an elite task force called STARS, searching a nearby forest for a downed helicopter and any survivors. While patrolling, you and your partners run afoul of rotting dogs, and one buddy becomes canine chow. The rest of your team enters the aforementioned manor, hoping to find a way out of this mess. However, you soon realize the mansion is the mess...
When I say it's “infested,” I don't mean it's brimming with wall-to-wall ghouls and hideous mutants. You enter and everything is eerily empty and quiet. You venture through a few doors, find mysterious environments and decorations throughout the house, and then eventually watch as one of your other friends gets his throat torn out by a zombie. This is the fate awaiting you. This is why you must carefully look over your ammo, herbs, first-aid kits, and event items and ensure you're going to survive. Because failure means you die painfully, then you're going to be consumed...
If you're a seasoned survival player, then you might be wary about taking out the first zombie. You wonder if dipping into your ammo supply will eventually leave you with too little in the clip to finish a boss or live through an onslaught. Because of this, you live in the constant fear that every shot you take, every health-restoring spray you use is hindering you. Your only recourse is to find ways around your enemies without taking damage or expending too much firepower, and only killing when necessary.
But how do you determine when combat is necessary? Uncertainty breeds further fear...

You never know what's going to be hiding in the darkness or lurching out from around a corner. You enter a closet in an apparently empty room, and a zombie pounces from behind some clothes. After you've determined if you're going to survive your heart attack, you can either dodge the creature, take the damage, or plunge a dagger into its head to fight it off. Hell, you can even stuff a flash grenade into its mouth and celebrate as its noggin pops.
But that victory provides a brief respite. As you advance, the game finds more ways to surprise you. Dogs jump through windows, reptilian beasts creep into hallways that were previously unoccupied, and some of the dead you dispatched return as something far worse...
Meanwhile, you struggle with combat skills that aren't exactly on par with Ryu from Ninja Gaiden, or even Mario for that matter. This isn't to say that protagonists Jill and Chris aren't capable fighters, but their mechanics don't allow them to accomplish herculean feats. Even with all your STARS training, you're still more of a sitting duck than anything, constantly afraid you'll end up against a situation you might not be able to handle, whether if its due to a lack of supplies or play control exacerbated by panic.

The HD Remaster version of the Gamecube remake thankfully proves a little less clunky than its PlayStation iteration. Tank controls are optional, allowing you to maneuver in a more traditional way. However, playing this one for even a few minutes reminds you why tank controls existed in the first place. As you mosey about the mansion, the camera perspective shifts. There is no need to rotate a camera because it remains fixed in certain parts of each room and corridor, panning when necessary. Because of the perspective shift, the apparent direction you're moving changes from one screen to the next. You might be running toward the top of the screen, only to come to a transitional point in a hallway that now shows you padding to the left. Tank controls functioned by moving your character in the direction they were facing whenever you press up and were handy for such transitions. Thankfully, this versions controls allow you to continue moving forward in the event of a transition, so holding “up” on the analog still sends you to the left during the previously discussed situation.
However, there are times these camera changes present a problem, especially during one puzzle involving a pair of crushing walls and a statue you must push into a niche. You begin by shoving a statue into a room where two walls close in and attempt to crush you. However, the statue prevents them from doing so. You then run around to one side, flip a switch, and return to the crushing room, where the walls are now parting. At that point, you have mere seconds to push the statue into its slot before the walls start to close again and reset the puzzle. The view shifts multiple times during this segment, creating confusion at a time when you only have several breaths to finish the task.
It's easy for us to dismiss earlier examples of genres as “humble beginnings” because later products raised stakes and leaned harder into categories' qualities. Resident Evil, though, shows us what survival-horror is all about by being straight to the point. It relies less on gimmicks and gives you the straightforward experience any of its brethren should: a frightening rush through an unnerving setting, made all the more terrifying by disadvantaging you. This isn't a power fantasy like so many other games. It's masochism for the sake of entertainment, and I'm here for it.
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Staff review by Joseph Shaffer (October 25, 2025)
Rumor has it that Joe is not actually a man, but a machine that likes video games, horror movies, and long walks on the beach. His/Its first contribution to HonestGamers was a review of Breath of Fire III. |
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