If you’re well into following video game news, you’re likely going to see a lot of new information about Resident Evil 9/Requiem today – to be clear, Capcom has done its usual trick of giving the game a title, but changing a letter (q in this instance) to the entry number in its reveal trailer. Over the weekend, hundreds of critics and influencers filed into a darkened theatre to witness a pre-recorded first gameplay video of Summer Games Fest’s biggest reveal. But hidden just meters away was something even better: a hands-on demo that only a handful of people got to play.
Sitting in the top secret hands-on room, I could hear the theatre crowds animatedly screeching and oofing with delight and disgust through the Capcom stand’s flimsy walls. But those porous walls go both ways. A little bit after leaving the Resident Evil 9 hands-on, my phone buzzes – a text from a friend and a colleague who was in Capcom’s stand at the same time.
“Heard you shout ‘SHITTING HELL’ or something while I was doing an interview,” the text reads. Which is funny. But, well, yes. Quite. True. This embarrassing anecdote, I hope, speaks to Resident Evil 9’s ability to fright.
The funny thing about this Resident Evil 9 demo is that it is, to be fair, quite familiar. It’s immediately reminiscent of some of the earliest demos of Resident Evil 7. New protagonist Grace Ashcroft finds herself in a claustrophobic space with a deadly stalker enemy coming after her. Players have to solve puzzles and avoid or escape the stalker to survive.
The half-ruined hallways and private rooms of what an in-game note seemingly cites as the Rhodes Hill Civic Care Center are mechanically deeply reminiscent of the dilapidated ground floor annexe of the Baker house. Where Ethan Winters scurried through those halls fleeing Jack Baker after escaping a deadly family dinner, Grace frees herself from some sort of macabre medical experiment only to be hunted by some as-yet nameless shambling beast that was presumably once human.
What I’m saying, I suppose, is that this demo showcases Capcom playing some of its hits. We see some of the same tricks played, even – the beast smashing through previously-solid walls, the noise made by main objectives instantly attracting the stalker’s attention, instilling a panicked flight for safety. Your mind oscillates wildly between the next objective or item you need to solve puzzles and progress and simply surviving the indestructible monster that wants to eat you.
Capcom knows how to make this stuff. There’s also clearly a gleeful knowledge that players know how it all works, too. For those who have been pursued by Jack, Nemesis, Alcina, or whoever else, your past knowledge and the anticipation it feeds is used against you. At one point I deliberately make a nonsensical move, thinking it might trick the stalker AI. It fails to do so, and I’m left scrambling. For newcomers it’ll be just as tense or worse thanks to the unknown. Whoever you are, it’ll be brown trousers time.
It’s not all familiar, though. This enemy has a mechanic to its nature that sets it apart from any other stalker in the series history – but Capcom has politely asked the exact nature of that be kept a surprise. Just be rest assured that it’s clever. Realising this twist allows you to wrest just a little power back – without diminishing the terror.
Back to my cursing. At one point, I needed to move a heavy hospital cart in order to climb on top of it to reach a toolbox on a high shelf. Even getting to this room had been tense – but the stars align to create a nightmarish situation. For one, the cart’s heft means I need to move it two-handed. So the lighter which I’d earlier found is flicked off; the room plunged into pitch black but for dull emergency lighting reflected across a bloodied floor. The cart has a wonky wheel or something, so moving it makes loads of noise. God. Then comes more noise, but from elsewhere – the beast has heard me.
The room only has one way in or out, so rather than run towards where the monster may approach from I stand still, in the pitch black, until the shambling and scraping noises cease. Grace’s breathing hitches, and so does mine. The noises stop. I wait a beat. Another. All is quiet. I’m in the clear. I gingerly press the d-pad up, to take out and ignite the lighter. Immediately illuminated, the mutated beast is about a foot in front of me, towering over poor Grace. Shitting hell.
To be clear, all of this is a wonderful combination of the elements that make a horror game like this great. Part of it is pre-scripted events. That cart will always make sufficient noise to attract the creature. But then my decision of what to do, the stalker AI’s decision making, and my accidental comedic timing in firing up the lighter – all that is stars aligning to create a moment that nearly sent me out of my chair. The PR in my demo room told me they’d not seen that play out exactly that way – and this is a small area, clearly from early in the game, with limited possibilities.
Light played a big role in that moment, and does in this demo in general. It feels as though RE Engine has had a big lighting upgrade and RE9 is Capcom flexing – the hospital ward Grace finds herself in feels like each room is bathed in sterile fluorescent lighting or absolute darkness, accented only by the blinking lights of medical equipment and the like. The lighting looks great, as does the rest. Plus, Grace’s tortured and panicked facial expressions are the best emoting I’ve seen from RE Engine to date.
Which brings me to the biggest surprise of Capcom’s reveal – the news that Resident Evil 9 can be played in first or third person. All you have to do is pause the game, go to the options menu, and flick a button. You can go back and forth as you like, and I did as I played. Both look and feel natural, though in this demo first-person is clearly marked as the recommended option. Indeed, in third person you will still flick back to first for the occasional cinematic moment, revealing how a seamless transition from gameplay to terrifying spectacle and back again in first person is the intent. Nevertheless, it’s great to have the choice.
I find it fascinating in part because this mode selector could be a bit of a fear modifier. I think these things are naturally a bit less nasty in third person. The player feels a little removed from events in that perspective. But there are advantages to first-person too. Scrabbling around the hospital for clues, it was easier to see small items and finer detail in first person.
I move into speculation, now – but if I were Capcom and making a game to celebrate Resident Evil’s 30th year, an interesting idea would be to make a game with multiple threads representing the different flavors of the series over time. My suspicion now is that Grace is just one of at least two protagonists – and I wonder if whoever her counterpart is might be designed to be played primarily in third person. Grace, the inexperienced young agent in a stomach-turning first-person survival horror – and then perhaps somebody else, a STAR, in bombastic third-person action horror.
The fact that I’m speculating is good. It’s great, even. It shows that a demo that felt quite familiar but for technical enhancements and a few subtle twists has sparked my interest and imagination. Explaining their intent, Capcom developers said they wanted to create a type of horror game that would leave players desperate to see what happens next. After the demo, I’m there. As familiar as this demo feels, I’ve no doubt the full game will push the envelope further. The ambition is obvious. And the wait until February is going to be challenging.
