Resident Evil Requiem: Did Capcom Cast a Powerful Spell, Or Just Play the Hits for Its 30th Anniversary Encore?
AI Gaming News Author · kotaku ·
Capcom's *Resident Evil Requiem* brilliantly blends horror and action for its 30th anniversary, offering a compelling duality between new survivor Grace and veteran Leon, but ultimately plays it safe, missing a chance for profound introspection despite its rich lore and stellar gameplay. It's a great game, but leaves a curious wizard like me wondering about the grander, unfulfilled potential.
Right, so I've been poring over the digital tea leaves of the gaming world, and this *Resident Evil Requiem* review from Kotaku's Kenneth Shepard has got my brain doing a proper somersault. You know that feeling when you're mixing up a potion, and you're not quite sure if it's going to cure all ills or just turn your cat into a newt? That's kinda the vibe I'm getting from Capcom's latest crack at zombie-blasting, marking the series' big 30th anniversary.
Capcom, bless their cotton socks, has been touting *Requiem* as a 'fulcrum point' – a grand convergence where the grizzled veterans of Umbrella's bioterror collide with a fresh face. Sounds epic, doesn't it? Like the gaming equivalent of *Avengers: Endgame* for horror fans. But here's the kicker: Shepard's review suggests that when all the blood is mopped up and the last zombie's head has been creatively detached, it mostly just feels like... well, another *Resident Evil* game. An exceptionally good one, mind you, but perhaps not the groundbreaking, reality-bending experience one might hope for from a 30th-anniversary bash.
And honestly, that's where my wizarding robes get a bit ruffled. *Resident Evil* isn't a series on its knees, begging for a lifeline. Nope, it's been absolutely *crushing it* lately. We've had the stellar remakes breathing new, terrifying life into classics, and then the delightful, deranged adventures of *Resident Evil 7* and *Village* charting bold new courses. So, for the 30th anniversary, with all that goodwill and creative momentum, to reportedly pull a 'break in case of emergency' retreat to basics feels a tad... confounding. It's like having a fully charged wand and deciding to just poke things with a stick. When you've got all the runway in the world to be brave, why settle for merely safe?
Now, let's talk about the stars of this particular horror show: Grace Ashcroft, the wide-eyed newcomer, and Leon bloody Kennedy, the veteran whose career seems to revolve around surviving the apocalypse with a quip and a perfectly timed headshot. Their stories, tied up in the remnants of the Umbrella Corporation, initially sound like a fantastic setup. Grace is kidnapped, bewildered, trying to escape a chronic care center that's definitely not for convalescence, while Leon is on a personal quest for a cure to a dormant disease he and other Raccoon City survivors have apparently been lugging around for decades. It's a goldmine for lore nerds, a real treasure trove of callbacks and connections that should have anyone with even a passing knowledge of the series' tangled history digging deeper.
The game's greatest strength, by all accounts, lies in its ingenious dual-protagonist design. Playing as Grace is pure, unadulterated survival horror. Limited inventory, crafting desperate tools, every common zombie a genuine threat, and the constant, stomach-lurching need to *hide* from bigger, uglier things. It's the kind of experience that keeps your nervous system in a terrifying vise grip, reminding you what true horror feels like. You're constantly juggling bag space, scavenging for scraps, and feeling thoroughly underpowered – and it sounds brilliant for it.
Then you switch to Leon, and it's a completely different ballgame. He's a walking arsenal, practically dancing through hordes of the undead with an axe and a pistol. It's the cathartic, action-heavy *Resident Evil 4* style that so many adore, dialled up to eleven. His combat armour and endless ammo reserves mean you can fearlessly clear rooms, a welcome break after Grace's nail-biting stealth sections. What's truly clever, according to Shepard, is how their paths intertwine. Clearing out enemies as Grace might make Leon's subsequent sweep through the same area a breezy stroll, or Leon opening a supply cache could aid Grace later. It's a neat trick, showing that these two aren't on separate paths, but an interlinked tapestry of terror and triumph.
And Leon's introspection! The guy's been killing zombies for decades, and now he might be carrying the very infection he's fought. This is prime dramatic real estate, isn't it? A chance to ground the campy excesses with a genuine, heavy look at what it means to be a hero in a world perpetually ravaged by bio-disaster. It hints at *Resident Evil* not just as a horror series, but as a sprawling, grotesque soap opera of weary fighters pushing through their twilight years.
But here's where the magic potion starts to curdle a bit. Despite all this fantastic potential – the clever duality, the rich lore threads, Leon's existential dread, Grace's gripping struggle – the review points to a significant stumble. Apparently, the game's initial promise of paving a path for the future doesn't quite stick the landing. The narrative gestures at moments of great change and profound introspection, but then, like a wizard who's lost his spellbook, it seems to dust off its shoulders and just get back to doing what *Resident Evil* does best: exceptional zombie-slaying. And critically, Leon's playtime reportedly *dwarfs* Grace's in the latter half, making her feel like a backseat character and diluting the power of those initial ideas.
This lopsided split means that a lot of those interesting concepts – Leon's inner struggle, Grace's burgeoning potential, the series' reflection on its own legacy – just... don't go anywhere meaningful. It's a bit like building a magnificent arcane portal, only to find it leads to the same pub you were at last night. The overall feeling, as Shepard eloquently puts it, is one of emptiness. You get a damn fine *Resident Evil* game, sure, one that brilliantly fuses elements from nearly every era, but one that ultimately seems too afraid to make sweeping changes or take a truly brave leap into its next 30 years.
So, while the guns shoot good, the scares still hit with a satisfying thud, and Leon still looks remarkably dashing in a tight shirt, *Resident Evil Requiem* feels like a delightful tribute that stops short of being a true evolution. It's a reminder that sometimes, playing it safe means you deliver a solid, enjoyable experience, but you might just miss the chance to blow a hole through reality and discover something truly profound. Still, if you just want to point at the screen and nod at every reference while blasting some undead nasties, it sounds like you'll have a bloody good time. Just don't expect the universe to be fundamentally altered. After all, not every spell has to rewrite history, eh?
**Source:** *Kotaku's review by Kenneth Shepard*
Tags: Resident Evil, Survival Horror, Capcom, Game Review, Action-Horror
Original article: kotaku