Immortal images
Anyone who's played a Resident Evil for more than a few hours will come to understand the game as a series of discrete short and long-term trades - collecting smaller items and using them to complete a bloody and violent Art of the Swap in pursuit of some higher goal. For example, to open a door with a snake on the front: Dodge zombie -> Collect herb -> Collect 5 handgun bullets -> Combine handgun bullets with handgun -> Use 3 handgun bullets to take down the zombie who is standing in the way of a brain in a jar -> Collect brain in jar -> Collect shotgun -> Trade some hitpoints to use the shotgun on a bigger zombie who is standing the way of a statue -> Use brain on statue -> Reveal a key shaped like a snake -> Use one herb to replenish health spent fighting the bigger zombie -> Use snake key on snake door -> Use remaining bullets on snake boss hiding behind snake door. A real time Dungeons & Draggers campaign, a constant evaluation of inventory and comparison with the variables in the current equation of the puzzle box, where skilled play tasks the player with thinking further and further ahead in order to secure flawless success.
As the series has moved forward, the complexity of these sequences has expanded and contracted in all shapes and sizes. Games like Resident Evil 2 have tried to run multiple sequences in parallel, finding replayability for players in the ways it allows you to plan multiple interdependent logistical movements in the same manner one would plan a camping trip to the countryside; games like Resident Evil 4 have tried compressing the sequence into shorter spaces of time, tasking you with minor maths calculations while running from a chainsaw; games like Resident Evil 6 have tried to more or less throw the sequence concept out of a thirtieth-story window in pursuit of cinematic success (no one is counting this bullets in an action movie).
Resident Evil 7 is probably at its most interesting when these sequences simply do not exist. Perspective is key here - whereas most Resident Evils of yore used fixed-perspective views to create a voyeuristic distance between player and hero in a manner evoking the giallo and j-horror of its era, biohazard does quite the opposite, and places The Ring on you (literally you, an amnesiac with no face), directly within the Final Destination of a skull that is being Sawed right this second. A video tape early on has you assume the role of a cameraman in a Louisiana Ghostwatch-type scenario; it's almost 15 minutes of "gameplay" that constitutes nothing more than self-amusement (depending on how amusing you find fear) derived from roleplaying as a gonzo cameraman in the depths of a deserted hell. Not a herb, handgun or key in sight. Just undead dudes dying in the moment.
Imagine my joy when I was forcefully guided into a sequence later in the game where you watch a VHS tape that lets you watch someone watch an mp4 recording of a different VHS tape on a laptop. The game is clearly obsessed with its own movement to the first-person multiple, constantly taking advantage of perspective and changes in perspective through a Connection of videodromic mediums - the eyes, the CCTV, the TV, the eyes of others, the eyes of others watching the TV, the eyes of those filming the TV. Kudos to Capcom for not just blithely saying “Resident Evil is an FPS now” and rather choosing to explore the true implications of horror as experienced first-personally vs. the 3rd-person-protective of Resis past.
Resis past are ultimately the game’s (partial) downfall. In a truly linear sequence of events like this, I don’t think there’s that much value in having the player take on the burden of inventory and item counting/combining. We all hate that feeling of a game requiring you to be an actor - stand here, press this button, watch this cinematic, stand over here, pick up the gun, shoot it now, step backwards to dodge this scripted animation or you will be replaying this sequence again and again and so on, etc., and Resident Evil 7’s insertion of one-way this->that->those sequencing problems too obviously reduce the concept of a video game down to a series of predetermined outcomes. Jack and Maggie carefully matching the pace of pursuit with the player is a perfect exemplar of this - everyone’s on rails; the Baker House vis a vis It’s A Small World; you and the CPUs just playing terrified roles on Capcom’s stage. It’s a wonderfully horrifying performance, though.
Anyone who's played a Resident Evil for more than a few hours will come to understand the game as a series of discrete short and long-term trades - collecting smaller items and using them to complete a bloody and violent Art of the Swap in pursuit of some higher goal. For example, to open a door with a snake on the front: Dodge zombie -> Collect herb -> Collect 5 handgun bullets -> Combine handgun bullets with handgun -> Use 3 handgun bullets to take down the zombie who is standing in the way of a brain in a jar -> Collect brain in jar -> Collect shotgun -> Trade some hitpoints to use the shotgun on a bigger zombie who is standing the way of a statue -> Use brain on statue -> Reveal a key shaped like a snake -> Use one herb to replenish health spent fighting the bigger zombie -> Use snake key on snake door -> Use remaining bullets on snake boss hiding behind snake door. A real time Dungeons & Draggers campaign, a constant evaluation of inventory and comparison with the variables in the current equation of the puzzle box, where skilled play tasks the player with thinking further and further ahead in order to secure flawless success.
As the series has moved forward, the complexity of these sequences has expanded and contracted in all shapes and sizes. Games like Resident Evil 2 have tried to run multiple sequences in parallel, finding replayability for players in the ways it allows you to plan multiple interdependent logistical movements in the same manner one would plan a camping trip to the countryside; games like Resident Evil 4 have tried compressing the sequence into shorter spaces of time, tasking you with minor maths calculations while running from a chainsaw; games like Resident Evil 6 have tried to more or less throw the sequence concept out of a thirtieth-story window in pursuit of cinematic success (no one is counting this bullets in an action movie).
Resident Evil 7 is probably at its most interesting when these sequences simply do not exist. Perspective is key here - whereas most Resident Evils of yore used fixed-perspective views to create a voyeuristic distance between player and hero in a manner evoking the giallo and j-horror of its era, biohazard does quite the opposite, and places The Ring on you (literally you, an amnesiac with no face), directly within the Final Destination of a skull that is being Sawed right this second. A video tape early on has you assume the role of a cameraman in a Louisiana Ghostwatch-type scenario; it's almost 15 minutes of "gameplay" that constitutes nothing more than self-amusement (depending on how amusing you find fear) derived from roleplaying as a gonzo cameraman in the depths of a deserted hell. Not a herb, handgun or key in sight. Just undead dudes dying in the moment.
Imagine my joy when I was forcefully guided into a sequence later in the game where you watch a VHS tape that lets you watch someone watch an mp4 recording of a different VHS tape on a laptop. The game is clearly obsessed with its own movement to the first-person multiple, constantly taking advantage of perspective and changes in perspective through a Connection of videodromic mediums - the eyes, the CCTV, the TV, the eyes of others, the eyes of others watching the TV, the eyes of those filming the TV. Kudos to Capcom for not just blithely saying “Resident Evil is an FPS now” and rather choosing to explore the true implications of horror as experienced first-personally vs. the 3rd-person-protective of Resis past.
Resis past are ultimately the game’s (partial) downfall. In a truly linear sequence of events like this, I don’t think there’s that much value in having the player take on the burden of inventory and item counting/combining. We all hate that feeling of a game requiring you to be an actor - stand here, press this button, watch this cinematic, stand over here, pick up the gun, shoot it now, step backwards to dodge this scripted animation or you will be replaying this sequence again and again and so on, etc., and Resident Evil 7’s insertion of one-way this->that->those sequencing problems too obviously reduce the concept of a video game down to a series of predetermined outcomes. Jack and Maggie carefully matching the pace of pursuit with the player is a perfect exemplar of this - everyone’s on rails; the Baker House vis a vis It’s A Small World; you and the CPUs just playing terrified roles on Capcom’s stage. It’s a wonderfully horrifying performance, though.