Evil can only truly prevail when there are no more good people left to stand up
Resident Evil Requiem arrives as a franchise in conversation with its own history, splitting its soul between two protagonists and two philosophies of fear. Grace Ashcroft's first-person vulnerability and Leon Kennedy's third-person spectacle together form what critics have called a tale of two games — a structural gamble that earns an 88 on Metacritic and considerable admiration, even as some wonder whether mastery of the familiar is enough. Capcom has delivered something confident and generous to its faithful, a requiem not just in name but in spirit: a tribute to the dead, the surviving, and the thirty years between them.
- An 88 Metacritic score signals broad critical approval, but beneath the consensus lies a genuine tension — is Requiem a bold evolution or an elegant act of nostalgia?
- The game's dual-perspective structure creates real dissonance: Grace's claustrophobic first-person dread gives way to Leon's third-person action spectacle, leaving some reviewers feeling whiplash and others feeling wonder.
- Critics note Capcom's pacing as a quiet triumph — just as Grace's horrors threaten to overwhelm, Leon arrives with humor and firepower, preventing either tone from exhausting the player.
- The absence of modes like The Mercenaries and a second half that tilts heavily toward action over tension leave some reviewers questioning whether the balance could have held longer.
- Post-game unlockables and replayability suggest Capcom's confidence in its design, but the loudest critical reservation remains: the series may have refined itself to its ceiling without yet daring to rebuild.
Resident Evil Requiem, the ninth mainline entry directed by Koshi Nakanishi, arrives with an 88 on Metacritic — a score that reflects a game sure of what it is, even as some critics wish it had risked being something more.
The game divides its story between two characters of contrasting temperament. Grace Ashcroft, an FBI agent carrying the grief of her mother's murder, navigates nightmare in first-person, armed with little and surrounded by dread. Leon Kennedy, older and worn, returns to the ruins of Raccoon City in third-person, cutting through the same threats with practiced ease. The structural choice is Requiem's most celebrated and most debated quality — critics like GameSpot's Phil Hornshaw called it 'a tale of two games,' one a slow haunted house rooted in Resident Evil 7's approach, the other a kinetic action experience drawn from Resident Evil 4.
What the critical consensus admired most was how Capcom wove these tones together without letting either exhaust the player. Game Informer's Wesley LeBlanc noted that Leon's arrival reliably broke the tension of Grace's sections with spectacle and humor. Eurogamer's Matt Wales found something deeper — a celebration of the franchise's entire legacy, from typewriter ribbons to bifurcated campaigns, borrowing from its own past with evident affection.
Yet reverence carries a cost. Hornshaw suggested Capcom had refined the formula as far as it could go, delivering near-perfect execution of familiar ideas without genuinely new ones. IGN's Tristan Ogilvie noted the absence of side content and questioned whether the balance between horror and action could have been sustained more evenly across the full runtime.
Still, the mood among critics remained warm. Requiem takes a mournful, grounded approach to its story — its title a mass for the dead — while delivering scares, varied combat, and the franchise's signature one-liners. As Resident Evil approaches its 30th anniversary, this entry reads less as a bold declaration and more as a generous gift to those who have never left.
Resident Evil Requiem arrives this week carrying an 88 on Metacritic, a score built from nearly a hundred critical reviews that paint a portrait of a game confident in what it is, even if some reviewers wish it had risked being something more.
The ninth mainline entry in Capcom's horror franchise, directed by Koshi Nakanishi, splits its narrative between two characters separated by experience and temperament. Grace Ashcroft, an FBI agent and daughter of Resident Evil Outbreak's journalist Alyssa Ashcroft, carries the weight of her mother's brutal murder as she finds herself pulled into an investigation that spirals into nightmare. Leon Kennedy, older now and weathered by time, returns to the ruins of Raccoon City chasing rumors of survivors from the incident that destroyed it. Their paths converge, and with them, two entirely different games.
The structural choice that defines Requiem is also its most divisive: Grace's sections unfold in first-person perspective, placing the player inside her vulnerability as she faces down creatures with little more than a handgun. Leon's campaign shifts to third-person, transforming the experience into something closer to action spectacle—motorcycle chases, mortar-firing zombies, elaborate boss encounters. Some critics found this tonal whiplash jarring, a game at war with itself. Others saw it as elegant design, offering the best of two eras without forcing compromise.
Polygon's Giovanni Colantonio captured the contrast sharply: Grace's sections leave you feeling defenseless, fending off threats with minimal tools, while Leon's portions show him tearing through the same enemies as though it were routine. GameSpot's Phil Hornshaw framed it as "a tale of two games"—one a slow, gory haunted house story rooted in the approach of Resident Evil 7, the other a fast-paced action experience drawing directly from Resident Evil 4. Both halves, he argued, were extremely compelling, even if they seemed to belong to different franchises.
What emerged from the critical consensus was admiration for how Capcom wove these disparate threads together. Game Informer's Wesley LeBlanc noted that just as Grace's horrors threatened to feel overwhelming, Leon arrived to provide relief through spectacle and humor. The pacing prevented either tone from overstaying its welcome. Eurogamer's Matt Wales saw something deeper: a celebration of the entire Resident Evil legacy, with shifting camera perspectives, inventory systems from different eras, typewriter ribbons, and puzzle design that felt deliberately old-school. The game borrowed from its own past—a bifurcated campaign recalling Resident Evil 6, an upgrade system echoing Mercenaries—and Wales found himself smiling wider the more it leaned into that inheritance.
Yet some reviewers detected a cost to this reverence. GameSpot's Phil Hornshaw suggested that Capcom had refined Resident Evil perhaps as far as it could go, resulting in a game that leaned heavily on past successes and nostalgia without offering fans genuinely new ideas. It knew its hits backward and forward, he wrote, and played them near-perfectly—but perfection of the familiar is not the same as innovation. IGN's Tristan Ogilvie noted the absence of side content like The Mercenaries mode, and wondered whether the balance between tension and assault could have been more consistent, rather than frontloading the story with frights before pivoting to a bullet-riddled second half.
Still, the critical mood remained warm. The game's post-game rewards and unlockables signaled Capcom's confidence that players would return again and again. Requiem takes a more grounded, mournful approach to storytelling than previous entries—the title itself suggests a requiem, a mass for the dead—while delivering no shortage of scares, varied combat approaches, and the obligatory one-liners that have always defined the franchise. As the series approaches its 30th anniversary, Requiem reads less as a bold statement and more as a gift to those who have stayed with it this long.
Notable Quotes
Requiem isn't just a spectacular bit of digital closure for one of gaming's most likable heroes or for an era of PlayStation nostalgia; it's a reminder to confront our world's darkest atrocities rather than hide away from them.— Giovanni Colantonio, Polygon
One game is a slow, frightening, gory haunted house story following an everyday person as its protagonist, hewing close to the horror-first approach of Resident Evil 7: Biohazard. The other is a fast-paced, panic-inducing experience starring an action-hero badass that draws directly from Resident Evil 4.— Phil Hornshaw, GameSpot
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does switching between first and third-person feel so important to how critics are talking about this game?
Because it's not just a camera change—it's a complete shift in how you experience fear and power. Grace in first-person is trapped in her own skin, vulnerable. Leon in third-person is untouchable, almost godlike. Critics are wrestling with whether that's brilliant design or a game that can't decide what it wants to be.
And the nostalgia angle—is that a weakness or a strength?
Both. The game is absolutely mining its own history, pulling from Resident Evil 4, Resident Evil 7, even older games. Some critics loved that as a gift to longtime fans. Others felt it meant Capcom wasn't taking risks, just perfecting what already existed.
What's the actual emotional core here? Why does Grace matter?
She's mourning her mother, murdered in front of her. That grief is the anchor. She's not a hero—she's someone trying to survive something incomprehensible. That's what makes Leon's arrival so effective. He's the opposite: seasoned, almost casual about horror. The game uses them to explore different relationships to trauma.
So the 88 score—is that a ceiling or a floor for this kind of game?
It feels like a ceiling. Critics are saying Capcom has refined the formula as far as it can go. An 88 means "excellent, but not revolutionary." The game knows what it is and executes it nearly flawlessly. But flawless execution of the familiar has limits.
Will people play it again?
The post-game content suggests yes. Capcom seems confident enough to load the game with unlockables and rewards that only matter on a second playthrough. That's a bet that the experience is good enough to revisit.