Resident Evil 7 VR Harnesses the Terror of Biology (No Spoilers)

The Resident Evil series is best when it stays true to its name. Resident Evil 7: Biohazard returns to its roots by dropping the protagonist directly into the world’s most haunted house.

Evil doesn’t just live here. It’s paid off the mortgage. It’s built a tire swing in the tree that’s been growing behind the garage for generations. Evil has taken up residence and doesn’t particularly want to give you a tour.

Changing the rules

Evil breaks new ground in Biohazard by wholly incorporating virtual reality. From the first steps into the house to hiding in a long-abandoned bedroom, virtual reality gives players a terrifying new perspective on the horrors lurking deep in an old plantation in Louisiana.

The difference between looking flatly at a screen and developing actual neck pain from having your head on a swivel because you’re absolutely sure you heard something in the fireplace is, for lack of a better term, game-changing.

Traditional horror media relies on two standard strategies: developing stress and anticipation (also known as suspense) and subsequently breaking it via the reveal (also known as the jump scare). Films and video games frequently seek to cheat this system by over-utilizing audio cues and music designed to set human beings on edge, forcing viewers to endure an inescapable crescendo and a cheap jump.

The jump is cheap because the audience doesn’t just expect it, they are guaranteed it.

 Horror movies with jump scares are like a comedian tickling the audience. “Technically, you laughed!” — Jeremy Kaplowitz

Virtual reality turns this expectation on its head. The player is not, cannot, be scripted. Audio cues are natural, so to speak. Creaky doors creak when characters try (and often succeed) to open them. Groans behind your left ear are coming from somewhere behind your left ear. Music filters through the game’s ambient swampland tones only when the suspense broke in half ten minutes ago.

Biohazard is more akin to a scary book than a scary movie. It relies on trying to avoid the worst of your imagination. It leaves the player with a sense of discomfort and unease long after they’ve taken off the VR headset to refill a badly-needed fortifying drink.

Rather than artificially manipulating stress levels, the developers of Biohazard set their sights on coaxing out the player’s natural survival instincts.

Why does the audience of a horror movie yell advice to the main character? Why is opening the basement door an obvious mistake? Our lizard brains, honed by generations of avoiding danger until it absolutely must be faced head on in a flurry of adrenaline, are very good at detecting potential unpleasantness.

So it is with Biohazard. Every aspect of the carefully-crafted environment—from farmhouses to … much worse places—creates a twitchy sense of dread from the moment you step foot in virtual Louisiana. Spend long enough looking over your shoulder or peeking hesitantly into dark corners and your body’s natural stress-response mechanisms roar to life, urging you to run, run, run, or at the very least, do NOT go into the basement.

But the game will only progress if you do exactly what your DNA suggests you avoid at all costs: go down the stairs. By pitting instinct against reason, Biohazard creates an entire cognition of fear.

This fearscape is necessary because the human brain is pretty good at identifying the truths and falsehoods of reality. Horror movies are easily ruined by consciously recognizing that the story playing out in front of you is on a screen. As far as instincts are concerned, the fear is fake. Nothing ruins immersive horror faster.

But by forcing the player to use their real head to peek around corners, to dodge, to look for an important item in a closed locker, the realization of falsity is significantly, sometimes permanently, delayed. The constant sensory input of visual and audio tied directly to the player’s physical movement results in the most immersive horror media experience to date.

Aiming with your face

An underlying theme of this game is its ability to force the player to identify and consciously overcome specific fears in order to progress (mannequins, anyone?). These powerful thematic underpinnings are combined with strong game mechanics that make full use of virtual reality.

Interacting with anything in the game requires you to look at it. Shooting at something? Better be looking right at it. Looking for a key under the desk? You’ll need to lean down and actually take a peek.

While this is standard for first-person video games, this mechanic takes on extra meaning in virtual reality. If you like horror movies, but close your eyes when you think the scares might start, you’ll end up wasting a lot of ammo.

That’s important because resource management in Biohazard is a callback to the old Resident Evil titles. Making sure you have enough in your pockets is a subgame that adds yet another subtle layer of stress. Likewise, it’s extra rewarding when a clever maneuver saves you some resources, or if you find an extra stash of ammo behind a particularly creepy mannequin.

Ultimately, having to literally look your fear in the eye(s) in order to conquer it elevates Biohazard above typical I-screamed-out-of-surprise horror media. That being said, there’s still plenty of screaming.

A love letter to fear

Many fans of the Resident Evil series lost interest as survival-horror tropes gave way to raucous gunplay and too much handgun ammo. Biohazard gives old fans a good reason to come back.

If it wasn’t clear from this review: Resident Evil 7: Biohazard must be played in virtual reality. Not doing so is a disservice to self-identified horror fans and the developers responsible for this terror.