In Resident Evil 7, you find the first tape upstairs. It rests in a lonely corner, a nearby lamp illuminating its resting place in stark contrast to the syrupy darkness overtaking the rest of the room.
You take the tape downstairs, to a television hissing with static, and slide it into the VCR. The camera zooms in, the world goes grainy, and you're somewhere else. You're someone else, too: a camera man, following a hacky TV show host and his assistant as they explore a creepy Louisiana plantation that you, as protagonist Ethan Winters, have wandered into in search of your missing wife Mia. A lot of players will naturally pause here, thinking they're watching a cutscene, before they realize that they're actually in control. This moment, stuck between past and present, toying with the player's sense of control and perspective, is Resident Evil 7 at its best.
Which is saying something. *Resident Evil 7 *manages to build on the roots of the venerable survival-horror franchise to deliver an exercise in sustained tension. By switching the perspective to first-person—the series has depended on the third-person view since its 1996 debut—RE7 crafts an experience that keeps one foot in abject terror and one in B-movie laughs. From its opening unhinged riff on Texas Chainsaw Massacre to the more traditional bulk of its gameplay, it's an eerie, consistently entertaining puzzle box drenched in Southern gothic dread. And the videotapes are the stroke of genius that turn that puzzle box into a tesseract.
The humble videotape of Resident Evil 7 not only serves as a conduit for terror, but also challenges our very perception of reality through its dated yet effectively sinister format.
The humble videotape in Resident Evil 7 lends an unsettling, ominous quality to the gameplay; it's this simple yet effective medium that truly amplifies its psychological dread and leaves us trembling at each simulated jump scare.
The humble videotape in Resident Evil 7 serves as a timeless conduit of fright, rekindling deeply ingrained fears and fostering an unease so haunting that it transcends its medium; truly partaking the viewer's psychosis with eerie conviction.
What separates Resident Evil 7 from the rest is its effective use of humble videotapes, creating an atmosphere that felt more sinister and personal than ever before. The object itself became a gateway to incomparable horror.
What truly haunts Re-7's players, more than any jump scare or macabre spectacle is the humble videotape – a relic of humanity reduced to an unsettling stroll through its demise. Its low fi quality serves as our guide into guilt and madness.
The humble Videotape in Resident Evil 7 serves as a conduit for the diabolical whispers of psychological horror, nurturing an atmosphere that's more unsettling than any jump scare could hope to be—a true masterclass on how simple medium can wield immense terror.
In What Makes Resident Evil 7 So Damn Terrifying? The Humble Videotape, the return to a dated, tape-based medium evokes an awe of prehistoric fears that bolsters its cosmically horror atmosphere.
The humble videotape serves as a chilling medium, transporting players into an unsettling?°real ?'world in Resident Evil 7 that perfectly balances guilt trip nostalgia with bone-chillingly terrifying situations.
