Since I first began playing the Resident Evil series on-stream back in May of 2021, I have long anticipated arriving at certain entries. Many laud 2019’s Resident Evil 2 remake as the pinnacle of the series, and I can absolutely appreciate that sentiment. Others still tout the game-changer that was Resident Evil 4, though that wasn’t quite the case for me.

Right from day one, however, Resident Evil 7: Biohazard has been residing in the back of my mind.

Long before I ever embarked on this journey, back in those miserable days toiling away at EB Games, I took notice of RE7 from the moment I happened upon its front cover. Something about this one seemed significant; a departure from the familiar faces we’d grown accustomed to, and replaced instead with a dreary Louisiana abode and its crazed denizens.

The nature of my employment history dictates that I would know at least a few things about this game, whether it was while working at that godawful store, or as the gaming journalism charlatan I continue to be to this day. But for the most part, I was able to keep the best moments away from my consciousness, checking off one RE experience after another until at long last, it was my turn to brave the Baker estate.

In January of 2024, I played Resident Evil 7: Biohazard for the first time. Roughly a month later, I’ve reached its conclusion, and I’ve got quite a lot to say about it, cher.

To begin with, it is striking to me how decidedly un-RE this game feels. Aside from a few familiar elements such as green herbs or physical save points — delightfully reimagined as tape recorders, somehow making the surroundings feel even more time-locked than the conventional typewriters — it more closely resembles an indie horror game than the franchise we know and love.

This is amplified by the first-person perspective. We’re not escorted by some dashing, witty Leon Kennedy here, but instead put right in the shoes of Ethan Winters. His personality has been derided by some, and yet, I find his toned down characterisation significant in setting the mood. He’s effectively a proxy; more of a placeholder who gives way to our own visceral experience.

The divorce from the familiar — and in turn, a divorce from what we consider to be safe — easily makes this the scariest entry in the franchise, without much in the way of competition. 2002’s Resident Evil remake is the epitome of atmosphere that creates a sense of tension, but this is something completely different. There, we felt nervous because of the potential for a sudden fright from an enemy that would create a gameplay challenge.

In RE7, we are nervous because we are right in the thick of it, witnessing the perverse cruelty of the Baker clan. They each lend their own unique brand of terror, and clearing their respective hurdles is a veritable roller coaster of frights.

There’s a mediocre Ju-On tie-in game on the Wii that proclaims itself to be a “haunted house simulator”, despite doing little to earn that title. It’s a descriptor I would more readily assign to RE7, because it is simply dripping with immersion. For the first time in my history with the series, the gameplay was secondary to the experience of just being there. The core loop of locating key items and dispatching of minor enemies is nothing new or special; the presentation is why this game rejuvenated the series.

It’s also absolutely dripping with incredibly smart design choices. On occasion, you’ll be lead down a very specific path, with certain doors only opening after you’ve triggered something of significance; a jump scare, perhaps, or a revelation of the horrors that await you. Doors randomly unlocking in sequence would normally not be so intriguing, but here, the creaking of something behind you is a startling moment in its own right. Akin to a Give Yourself Goosebumps book, you are allowed a degree of autonomy while ultimately being guided into the traps ahead.

The Baker house is vintage Resident Evil, with its looping paths and procedural exploration, while the other locations possess their own highlights and quirks. I loved the look and feel of the dilapidated old house, and Lucas Baker’s birthday party in the barn is downright iconic. The fact that you had already learnt of its dangers if you watched the video tape (allowing you to sequence break the puzzle and outwit Lucas’ traps) is an example of inspired game design.

I will admit, I grew bored of the Molded creatures in short order, electing to bypass them where possible to conserve ammo and save time. The insect foes, once I had the flamethrower in-hand, were of no concern beyond their initial surprise. And lo and behold, that is the entire roster of enemies: Molded and bugs, with six variations between them.

On the surface, it sounds like a dealbreaker. No zombie dogs? No Lickers? No Hunters lurking around the corner, eager to remove our heads from atop our shoulders?

It’s a trade-off, to be sure, and yet, one that I was willing to make because Eveline’s adopted family do all the heavy lifting. We don’t face off with Lucas directly in the main campaign, and Marguerite is isolated to only two sections. Hell, even Jack disappears in large part past his initial pursuit. But make no mistake, these skirmishes are about quality over quantity.

Jack’s playful taunts and Marguerite’s twisted form put them leaps and bounds beyond any number of the bosses who came before them. Apologies to Resident Evil 6 fans (who I’m certain have grown tired of being the franchise’s punching bags); there is not a single antagonist in its protracted runtime that is even in the ballpark of the Baker trio.

Derek C. Simmons and his litany of obtuse evolutions? He pales in comparison to Jack Baker running Ethan over with his own fucking car. This is the kind of wonderful stupid Resident Evil excels at. I just wish we could have seen what would have happened if S.D. Perry had gotten a hold of it.

Obviously, none of what I’m saying is new, considering we’re talking about a game that recently celebrated its seventh anniversary. It is, however, new to me, and only one of a handful of times I’ve felt so inspired by an RE entry that I just had to talk about it.

Without a doubt, it has leapfrogged a large section of its predecessors, and in my mind, one of its most vaunted successors, to boot. A few months ago, the magnificent Resident Evil 4 remake climbed to third place on my RE podium, even claiming top honours as EZIYODA’s game of the year for 2023.

Were I to opine objectively, I would still consider that to be the superior game; more engaging on a gameplay front, with little in the way of excess that dampens the overall package. But it didn’t quite make me feel something as much as Resident Evil 7 did. Just that intangible spark of magic, so rare and special, that transcends gaming and becomes its own core memory.

And that is exactly what Jack Baker and his brood pulled off here. Welcome to the family of my favourite Resident Evil games, y’all, where you are now placed third behind only the aforementioned remakes of RE1 and RE2.

Take it from old Jack himself — it’s pretty fucking groovy.