There are many reasons why this game essentially codified survival horror and is credited as the genre’s greatest inspiration. For me, it was the mansion itself that stood the test of time. These days, with huge open worlds and a growing stigma against backtracking, we’ve lost the concept of an environment that we get to know and adore over a prolonged experience. Like Shadow Moses in Metal Gear Solid, the Spencer Mansion of Resident Evil is a tiny place compared to huge modern game worlds, and there’s a significant amount of running back and forth through the same sets of corridors and rooms. Released brand new today, Resident Evil could very well risk a critical mauling for forcing players to backtrack, as we’ve collectively forgotten how much a sense of intimacy with one’s surroundings can positively impact a game experience. Now, I’m actually none too fond of some of the ways in which Capcom cheaply increased the amount of required back-and-forth (screw that shortcut door with the breakable handle!), but I can still respect exactly how much playtime Capcom got out of one main building and a few connected areas.
What first introduces itself as a sprawling, intimidating maze soon feels like home. A deadly home crawling with zombies and other biological atrocities, but a home nonetheless. Continued exposure to familiar hallways instills a navigational expertise in the player, as they soon learn the best shortcuts, the safest routes from room to room, the faster and more efficient methods of navigating their world. Unlike many modern games, players were given time in a place just the right size, and drip-fed new areas as and when required, rather than shunted around a vast open sandbox with barely a moment to take in the scale. This method of environmental design was a mainstay of old adventure games, expanded upon with Metroidvania style titles, and produced a number of unforgettable PlayStation-era action releases. The word “unforgettable” is important. I will never forget Resident Evil. I won’t forget its lavish entrance hall, its eerily silent barroom, its crow-infested gallery, or the relief I felt every time I reached its stairwell safe rooms. I can’t tell you about a single memorable place in Far Cry 4.