It’s widely renounced, that one of most complex emotions to convey to a cynical audience is fear. To inflict a sense of terror and isolation, as if these terrifying instances are occurring to you solely, something that Resident Evil could morbidly replicate with simulated intensity. Intimidating your reactions, not only with grotesque creatures of various degrees of decomposition, but also with the excessive application of blood having a more adverse role rather than a necessity, that transformed the mandatory routine of negotiating a corridor, into more torturous than Mike Tyson at a spelling test. But its tough to retain such consistent calibre of fear without plummeting into predictability, and with the first 3 titles that emphasised situations of tormented curiosity and goaded our tentative progression with every cautionary step we took, its impossible not to stagnate such a revered, psychological manipulation. A particularly disgruntled contingent of Resident Evil fans will forever insinuate–or blatantly stating, that the series– much like its abundant cast of un-dead, died prior to Resident Evil 3.
“Exclusive new L’Oreal commercial. Because Leon’s worth it.”
It’s easy to elicit such negativity, when a game doesn’t quite duplicate the same sense of foreboding anxiety that was so vividly apparent from the offset, and it’s certainly a sentiment I can empathise with. But despite increased controversy surrounding its more aggressive attitude, remedial procedures and emphasis on blowing everything up, I believe with increased vigour, that the fragility of the series and its apparent premature emanation of its senses, that its “death” wasn’t fully determined until the release of the much publicised abomination that is Resident Evil 6, which has left this once focal series, languishing in its own, crimson remnants. With Resident Evil 5 there was a discernible, admirable intent to infuse more combative elements into the genre, but with largely disappointing ramifications. But in regards to Resident Evil 6, you get the distinct indication that Call of Duty’s auspicious success, as well as financial acclaim had prompted curiosity to exploit its popularity, by endeavouring to attract the similar, combative audience. You can sympathise as to why the alleviated alterations above have been inducted, because you can rest assured that the same individuals critiquing Capcoms incentives, would feel additionally accost by a lack of any advancement. The fault lies largely with Capcoms execution rather than their deliberation.
“An actual worthwhile addition, to begin with.”
With the exception of the characters and familiar incidences, there’s little coherency or narrative continuity. It’s lost a certain tenacity in its transference from the original PlayStation, with the corroding frigid essences concealed within a game hugely reliant on over dramatization and elaborate creatures, devoid of even the most basic composite of fear. Your engaging enemies that reflect the adequately conceived imaginings of the creators, that keenly resemble inverted dinosaurs, rather than humanoid mutations. In one frustrating encounter with one of these undesirable permutations, your required to defeat a creature more akin to a physical incarnate of a contraceptive, rather than a terrifying entity, that requires and instrument as obtuse and meagre as a knife to attain victory. Yet my accumulation of grenades appears to be mute diligence on my part, as these far superior projectiles offer no discernible service, which just seems a bizarre, frankly disturbed oversight. For future iterations to succeed, they have to introduce a cull on the volume of generic, wholly unnecessary, caustic mutations. The familiar faces, blended with new additions certainly added a profound dynamic, with somewhat interspersed sullying, as it meekly attempted to rouse itself from presentational entropy.
“Just a few pics from my Birthday party.”
Leon adds solidity and consistency, with probably the most worthy narrative supplement, which adopted a genuine intensity to the creepy haunted house cliché of yore. Similar Jake was an attractive addition, if not misguided narrative implementation, with his predictable transition from potential hindrance to eventual saviour. His unique perspective, disinterested consideration for the life of overs and blasé concern for his own role in events made for captivating interactions between the other routinely “heroic” cast. Ada continues her exploits uninhibited, and remains a consistent paradox, with her motivation and ultimate intent still remain irritatingly unknown, even after a decade. There’s a subtle sense that the writers–in the most simplistic referrals– have no idea how to execute her distinguishable curiosity, with any kind of mailable, narrative intent. She remains a highly versatile catalyst, with physical dexterity and mental attributes worthy of any foe. A highly provocative distraction, though ultimately irrelevant. Co operative play remains a highly innocuous inclusion, and many would argue an unwarranted distraction. But Dead Space 3 has proven that co-operative implementation can be conducive to virtual horror, even complimenting the dramatic events, if utilised efficiently with limited deviation from the simulated horror.
“Leon just loves the January sales.”
Initially, the elongation of the events seems an appealing one; more time to explore, soak up the atmosphere and more fodder for your guns, immune to the excess consumption of ammo due to immunity of infinity. But you begin to appreciate the noticeable beneficial constraints with the previously shortened longevity, that allowed a game to flow uninhibited by the unnatural protraction of the story, which has never been the series most resounding qualities. It made the prospect of completion even more of an arduous transition, and when you begin to rely so heavily on your own willed persistence to progress to a conclusion–well, the sentence vocalised itself without need for elaboration. Capcom are certainly culpable for the series dramatic deterioration and the future–or indeed, lack of, is subverted by designers bereft of originality or imagination. Resident Evil 6 was a tepid, watered down interpretation, totally contradictory to the superiority of previous games of far more distinguished seniority. Focused purely on the gore addled exterior of your foes, instigating revulsion for blood and exploiting the fragility of the enemies as you shoot various appendages from the torso, which sounds fun, but in practice, vacant of personality. It’s like a meddling director, meticulously experimenting with alternate endings, or Quinton Tarantino deciding the only way to improve on Pulp Fiction’s content, is to add more gore, or Ewoks.
“Because deep down, we know this scene would look better with the addition of Ewoks.”
Despite my glaring indictment of Resident Evil 6, I still cautiously maintain that there is a future, and I’d like to propose a few disgruntled propositions; focus on one story, reduce the vehicular activities to a minimum (none, being the subtext), deliver more narrow corridors and passages that reveal little of the imposing dangers. But adequate inventiveness is simply not enough to sustain the series from further criticism, and the eventual fiscal austerity. But please, I beg of you, above all else, *clears throat* STOP TRYING TO BE LIKE CALL OF DUTY!
What did you think of Resident Evil 6? And what would you like to see done to series? Let me know your thoughts on this deepening issue.