The Greatest Video Game is About to be Lost

History

Everybody knows the stories of Resident Evil 4. It’s appropriate that one of the most well-made and influential pieces of media ever released inspires respect and reverence from even its failed starts. The original version, which became too overt an action game, was reworked as the first Devil May Cry. Several more versions followed, including the beloved yet never realised Hook Man concept (even recently, fans were still hoping it would make its way into the remake). Resident Evil 4 was also one of the Capcom Five, and by far the most successful. These games were announced as GameCube exclusives, and director Shinji Mikami famously claimed he would kill himself if it was ported to other systems. As of today, Resident Evil 4 has been made available on PlayStation 2, PC, Wii, iOS and Android , Zeebo (the what?), PlayStation 3, Xbox 360, PlayStation 4 (hey, that’s where I played it), Xbox One, Nintendo Switch and Oculus Quest 2. It is one of the greatest and most popular games ever made. Mikami remains alive and active as an executive producer for Microsoft-owned Tango Gameworks.

 

Reception

Resident Evil 4 is legendary. I can't really speak to how it was received upon release, but it certainly made waves. With an aggregate score of 96, it sits at 30^th place all-time on review aggregator Metacritic (one spot behind Uncharted 2, a much worse third-person shooter). It's generally recognised as a landmark title, both for its quality and its impact on the industry.  Of course, it has not gone uncriticised. Many fans of the franchise, or survival horror in general, resent it for shifting the series towards action horror, and even in this title it reaches the point of action with a horror theme. Some modern players have also rejected it as outdated, a criticism I heavily disagree with – I first played it in 2017, and it’s currently my favourite game of all time.

 

Impact

Resident Evil 4 is like the Genghis Khan of video games, with an overwhelming number of games directly or indirectly descended from it, all these years later. Unlike Temujin, however, it’s descendants are more easily found in the west. While first- and third-person shooters have long dominated American and other western markets – in terms of both production and consumption - Resident Evil 4 is one of the few noteworthy Japanese shooters (and those prominent examples are largely third-person). It should be no surprise that even with Resident Evil 4’s success, it didn’t inspire many imitators in its own market. I’ve found its direct successors – Resident Evils 5 and 6 – lacklustre follow-ups. Both took their own spins, and brought major additions such as co-op, freer movement, and expanded melee movesets, but each feels like it lost a lot of what makes Resident Evil 4 so special. Shinji Mikami’s own follow-up third-person shooter, Vanquish, shifted from survival-horror roots to complete action, and I’ve so far failed to get into his later spiritual successor The Evil Within. From what I have seen, it loses the tight gameplay of Resident Evil 4 while bloating it’s progression into something closer to the traditional slop of modern video games.

 

And yet Resident Evil 4 is always heralded as influential. The perspective shift helped create the ubiquity of over-the-shoulder cameras seen in modern third-person games, both shooters and melee action games. This camera set-up has become an industry standard, dominating several of the biggest genres, although the continuation of tank controls in Resident Evil 4 mean that it’s a little more obviously “stop-and-pop” than many of the games released in its wake.

 

Ignorance

But there’s a tendency for the status of the game to overshadow its reality. In part because its legacy was shown more in the pieces of DNA that spread throughout the medium than the overall package, I think modern commentators often miss what makes the game so special. Anecdotally, I haven't seen as many reviews and retrospectives of Resident Evil 4 on YouTube as I have for other classics, and at least one of my friends receives semi-regular rants about tweets I see dismissing its design. Part of my frustration is that, for all its influence, I can't think of another shooter that comes close to offering such a complete package built around mechanics that demonstrate and encourage this kind of interaction with enemies (honourable mention to Resident Evil 6, its shortcomings notably on the package side, and not for lack of content). The way that combat is structured around enemy states, visceral hit reactions, and manipulation of space is more reminiscent of technical action games in general, and Mikami’s God Hand in particular. What's most disappointing to me is that so many can't look past little things like tank controls, stationary shooting, or Ashley, and see the smart, intentional design that incorporates these elements into an incredible, as-yet unrivalled third-person shooter.

 

The Remake

We’ve seen what remakes do to the originals, time and time again. Unless it’s a mess with technical issues, or has changes both obvious and irritating for casual observers, the shiny new version becomes the only version in public consciousness. Some might soften the blow with references to the original and its accomplishments, but I've seen clearly that most games can only occupy one space in the zeitgeist. Mainstream gaming culture cannot accept two versions, not with the current state of the industry. I haven’t played either version of Demon’s Souls, but I know two things about the reception of Bluepoint’s 2020 remake: its acceptance as the superior form by the masses, and its rejection by the hardcore base as a shiny but poorly-conceived lick of paint over the more considered art direction of the original. This isn’t just a case of fans reading things that aren’t there into low quality assets - there’s quotes from the original developers talking about the feelings they wanted to evoke with character designs, feelings that were lost or directly contradicted by the new vision. After I started writing this piece, Metroid Prime was remastered for the Switch, and I’ve already seen complaints about the new art design, despite not having looked for anything about this rerelease. I've heard a lot of comments about the superiority of modern Yakuza games from those who, like me, started with 0. But we don’t even have to look outside the Resident Evil franchise to see how remakes effectively replace the original. In 2002, a remake of the original 1998 Resident Evil was released on GameCube, directed by the same man who directed both the original game and would later direct Resident Evil 4, Shinji Mikami. Today, only the remake is readily available to consumers, and it’s readily accepted that there’s no reason to play the original. Maybe there isn't, but I certainly don't trust that mass opinion would inform me if there was.

 

Resident Evil remakes were finally resumed in 2019, with Resident Evil 2, followed by a less well-received remake of the third game in 2020. Both remakes modernised their respective entries, shifting to the now traditional over the shoulder third-person perspectives popularised by Resident Evil 4 and incorporating some of the visual design developed for the franchise soft reboot Resident Evil 7. Fixed perspective cameras and tank controls were gone, and more changes followed on, including enemy and audio design. The public rejoiced. These remakes, like Resident Evil 4's will be, are fundamentally different games, different experiences. Similar, yes, but the artistic qualities of each have been gained, changed, or lost. I find myself repeating the words of David Lynch here. You think you've experienced Racoon City because you played a game with modern third-person shooter controls? Get real.

 

Here’s the fucking rub: I couldn’t really get into the Resident Evil remake when I tried it. I got much further into the second and third remakes before stalling out, distracted by other things. I still want to properly play all three someday! But it’s much easier for me to play a standard third-person shooter than the PS1-style pre-rendered, tank control experience. The 2019 and 2020 remakes undoubtedly made the series more accessible to me, and yet I’m arguing against the same thing happening with the fourth entry. Why? Because I acknowledge that these remakes (more so than most, due to the drastic changes), are not the originals, and do not replace them. Rather, both versions of Resident Evil, Resident Evil 2, and Resident Evil 3 exist as part of the franchise and broader gaming landscape. I'd like to play all of them some day, and I'd like everybody to have that opportunity. Public consciousness may dismiss the originals as outdated, ugly, and replaced. I will not, even if I never manage to play them myself.

 

What Do I Want?

Specifically in terms of Resident Evil 4, there’s two things I want: I want the remake to be worthy of sharing its name with the greatest video game ever made, and I don’t want it to replace that game. I have higher hopes for the former. I’ve seen people dismiss the possibility of the latter happening, claiming that the original version is available everywhere. As I mentioned earlier, they aren’t exactly wrong - what is the Zeebo? - but that doesn’t mean things will stay the same going forward. If the 2023 Resident Evil 4 becomes the “definitive” version, the original might no longer be ported to every modern system, might no longer be readily available to everyone.

 

So what do I want for the industry? I want a more refined, preservationist approach to remakes. I want remakes to release alongside ports of the original (hey publishers, you can do it as a pre-order bonus sold separately, to get that extra cash), especially when changes are as dramatic as those made in the four Resident Evil remakes. I want the cultural discourse to acknowledge that old game design trends are not necessarily wrong or outdated, even if they have been replaced. I want the successes (and stumbles) of the past to be remembered and celebrated, readily discovered by new generations. Ultimately, if the original Resident Evil 4 is lost to “progress”, it’ll rank low on the list of societal tragedies. Art and entertainment are often fleeting. Bigger losses have happened, are happening. There are real dangers. And yet a part of me will be sad that what was once the greatest game ever made will have been papered over, hidden and abandoned to gather dust, and its next fans might only be able to discover it in its redone incarnation instead.

 

 

 

 

 

Coda

Obviously, this piece was largely about remakes, but I also touched on the issue of game preservation. It’s no secret that art is often forward-looking, controlled by media companies looking for the next big thing, struggling to capitalise off the treasure troves of licenses they hold. Streaming services were recently gutted. Companies seem to learn and forget lessons about preservation and selling the past all the time. The Metal Gear Solid series, for example, received several ports and HD rereleases (also thanks to Bluepoint) on the PS3. As far as I’m aware, most of the series is playable on that console, but only one game (two including Ground Zeroes) is available on later hardware, and only two available on PC (and Revengeance isn’t a core part of it anyway, no matter how cool you think it is). God Hand is another classic I only have access to on my slowly dying PS3. The shift from the eighth to the ninth generation was a much better one, with much more robust backwards compatibility compared to the near-total severance after seventh gen. There are reasons for optimism, but there will always be reason for scepticism. Maintaining all this old technology and art will always be a struggle against licensing, compatibility, capitalism, and popular taste. If you want to link this a broader societal critique, I do think it’s worth considering how alarming it is that human accomplishments can be lost so quickly and willingly, even in the area of entertainment, where passion should and does drive preservation in the face of legal and technological hurdles. Is it too extreme to compare to stories of lost accomplishments, like Xenophon's party looking at ancient ruins more advanced than their own societies, and think it’s tragic we're willingly throwing away our own products? Probably, but still.