Resident Evil 9: Requiem

Requiem is, at the same time, a truly unique Resident Evil experience and a culmination of everything that has made the franchise memorable for nearly three decades. It feels both fresh and deeply embedded in RE DNA. I really wish there had been more gameplay with Grace that resembled the very beginning of the game. Requiem was marketed and conceived as an ode to two distinct traditions within the franchise: Leon's action-horror lineage and the slower, more intimate style of terror that recalls Village, and especially Resident Evil 7. My biggest criticism is that there is a significant imbalance between these two approaches. The game initially promises a fascinating dialogue between different interpretations of horror, but as the story progresses, that dialogue increasingly becomes a monologue. By the final act, much of the experience transforms into a cinematic action game adorned with horror imagery rather than a genuine coexistence of both styles. While I enjoyed the action immensely, I cannot help but wonder what Requiem would have looked like had it maintained the tension between vulnerability and power throughout its entire runtime. One of my favourite aspects of the game is the incredible variety of its settings. Despite its relatively concise length, Requiem moves through a remarkable range of environments. Within my personal tastes, the most memorable locations were the beautiful ruined hotel, which was even Silent Hill-esque at times, and the hospital itself. The ruined hotel possesses a distinctly melancholic atmosphere, its rooms like fossilized remains of itself, suspended somewhere between memory and trauma. The hospital is equally impressive, and what makes it effective is its range. It embraces the cold sterility of medical horror while simultaneously incorporating gothic lounges and strangely elegant chambers. It is well known that medicine itself became dehumanizing a long time ago, so of course it breeds fertile ground for a horror setting. Leon’s section in the ruins of Raccoon City contains some of the best post-apocalyptic imagery I've seen. The atmosphere reaches its peak upon entering the R.P.D. I did not play these games as a child, nor do I possess decades of nostalgia for them, and yet I felt an overwhelming sense of it. It was not just nostalgia for my own playthroughs, but nostalgia experienced through Leon himself. The ARK facility takes the coldness of medical institutions even further by combining it with science-fiction horror aesthetics, and even though that is not my personal horror niche, it still worked for me. What was very interesting to me is how these settings collectively form a kind of historical timeline of horror itself. The hotel evokes gothic horror, the hospital channels medical and psychological horror, and ARK pushes these anxieties into futuristic territory. Requiem moves through the evolution of horror as a genre while moving through its own narrative, and as somebody who is obsessive about the setting of horror itself, I really appreciated that. One of the game's strongest themes is the exploitation of children and the banality of evil. The villains commit horrific acts that are procedural, normalized, and bureaucratic in the game, just as they are in real life, of course. The suffering is a variable in an equation. The villains rarely justify themselves through madness alone; they frame their actions as necessary sacrifices in pursuit of progress, knowledge, or salvation. Hannah Arendt famously described evil not only as monstrous but also as banal, something capable of emerging through ordinary systems and rationalized decision-making. Requiem understands this concept very well, so I can say that Capcom uses it effectively for worldbuilding and especially character creation. The aesthetic of medical horror and the archetype of the mad doctor are done very well. Historically, the mad doctor was always a figure who transgressed moral boundaries in pursuit of a supposedly greater good. Medicine itself exists at the threshold between life and death, making the physician an inherently powerful and potentially frightening figure within horror fiction. Gideon's design is a brilliant example of this. His long hair gives him an almost prophetic appearance, while his strangely charismatic yet fundamentally uncharismatic personality creates an engaging contradiction. He possesses the confidence of a visionary but none of the warmth required to inspire genuine trust. That being said, I might be biased because I find him extremely attractive. Yes, I love Leon. We all love Leon. He is as attractive as ever and as unintentionally funny as ever. However, in my opinion, Grace is the true protagonist of Requiem. I absolutely adore Grace as a character. She feels remarkably real to me, both in her behaviour and her emotional responses. Some players may find her expressions of fear excessive during the opening hours, but I completely disagree. Despite her terror, she consistently makes intelligent decisions and adapts to impossible circumstances with believable competence. I honestly cannot remember the last time I bonded with a protagonist this quickly. I’ve seen a lot of great fan art comparing her to Courage the Cowardly Dog, and the comparison feels very accurate. Courage was never brave because he lacked fear; he was brave because he acted despite it, and he had HOPE. Grace embodies the same principle. Perhaps that is why I loved her immediately. I have seen some people online suggest that Zeno exists because Capcom regretted killing Wesker, and yeah, I can believe it. The theory is hilarious because it would imply that when they tried to create a new Wesker, they realized the only way to do it was by making an even cooler one. The result? Platinum blonde hair, an earring, and a cigarette. But I actually like his character. His stylish, nonchalant evil serves as a perfect contrast to Gideon. Gideon embodies obsessive ideological fanaticism; Zeno represents detached self-interest. Their differences prevent the villains from feeling repetitive and create a fascinating contrast between two different forms of corruption. I find the symbolism of Elpis to be one of the game's most beautiful thematic elements. In Greek mythology, Elpis is often translated as "hope" and remains inside Pandora's jar after every other evil has escaped into the world. We have debated for centuries whether hope itself is a blessing or simply another illusion. Requiem seems deeply interested in this ambiguity, and I love when horror games don’t shy away from mythical themes and symbols. I would say that RE is actually one of the few games that goes a bit deeper than merely scratching the surface with philosophical keywords, and they really did create a solid narrative. The game title is also very beautiful; I thought so even when the name first dropped. A requiem is traditionally associated with mourning, yet mourning itself implies that something valuable has existed indeed. The emotional weight of Requiem feels earned, and yet I wouldn’t say that it becomes excessively sentimental. In the end, Leon looks like he is somehow in his absolute prime, we get jokes about Chris Redfield, Emily gets saved, and Grace gaining confidence all contribute to what is essentially a fairy-tale ending. Horror has always been conservative; it has always been a struggle between good and evil. Resident Evil has never been interested in realism. It has always embraced excess, impossible heroes, grotesque monsters, and spectacle. Its horror is not the horror of inevitability but the horror of resistance. Because of that, Requiem's ending feels like the natural culmination of everything the series has always been. It is beautiful, and perhaps a little naïve. But Resident Evil has always believed that people can overcome horror, no matter how monstrous it becomes. For a franchise built upon such convictions, there could be no truer ending.

Resident Evil Requiem — 10/10, I really liked the game. Before this, I played Resident Evil 2 (Sequel ) , 3 and 4. Grace's part was a 10/10! Even though I'm a scared little rat, I accepted the challenge to play with her in third person, and I'm glad I did. I'm not gonna lie, I saved the game more than I should have, screamed at everything that moved, and probably wasted more bullets than necessary. Leon’s action-heavy gameplay feels powerful and can almost parry any attack, while Grace delivers pure, tense survival horror. Combat is fun, puzzles are smart without dragging, and the game looks stunning. Playing as Grace is genuinely scary thanks to the atmosphere and sound design and it’s great to see Leon back.A great balance of action and horror. Highly recommend to play resident evil 2 for the sequel for the story. Easily one of my favourites in the series.

Playing as Grace gave me serious Outlast vibes (one of my all time favs). For a good chunk of the game, you're forced to rely on running hiding, and making every bullet count. Even when the game switches over to Leon, who's much better equipped, it never loses that sense of dread. I still found myself jumping whenever a zombie suddenly got back up or something came shambling out of a dark hallway The sound design deserves a ton of credit too. The distant groans, footsteps, and random noises constantly had me second guessing what was around the next corner. I've played just about every Resident Evil game, and this is honestly the first one that had me feeling tense from start to finish except for some parts playing as Leon witch made no sense but were still super fun! Optimization is top notch as well. Being able to play everything on max settings with raytracing enabled and getting 100+ frames still is incredible! [b]Easy recommend! Prob the best Resident Evil game too date![/b]