Resident Evil: Requiem (2026): The Review

Overview

Resident Evil: Requiem stands as a confident high point for modern Resident Evil, using alternating perspectives between Grace and Leon to keep the pacing sharp and the tension constantly shifting. Its puzzles are smart without feeling obtuse, exploration rewards attentiveness, and the core loop strikes a satisfying balance between familiar survival-horror rhythms and smart refinements. By threading decades of series lore into a cohesive, engaging story, Requiem delivers both substance and spectacle, an easy must-buy for veterans and newcomers alike.

Score: 9,5 out of 10

The Positives ✅

Resident Evil Requiem feels like the moment the series stops circling its legacy and finally embraces it. Set decades after the destruction of Raccoon City, it doesn’t just reference the past, it consolidates it. Threads that have lingered since the early days of Resident Evil are pulled together into a narrative that feels deliberate, coherent, and genuinely consequential. For longtime fans, the payoff is enormous. For newcomers willing to read logs and pay attention, the context is there.

The dual-campaign structure is easily its smartest design choice. Grace’s methodical, puzzle-heavy survival horror segments capture the anxious DNA of the classics, while Leon’s combat-driven chapters channel the confident, kinetic energy of the series’ action era. The pacing between them is masterful, just when tension tightens to a near-breaking point, the game releases it through larger encounters and aggressive firefights.

Mechanically, both sides shine. Grace’s classic item-box management and character-driven upgrades restore that careful planning mindset, while Leon’s grid-based arsenal optimization feels like a refined evolution of his past outings. Combat is responsive and satisfying, puzzles are layered without being obtuse, and exploration rewards curiosity without devolving into repetition.

Visually, Requiem is stunning. Familiar locations are modernized without losing their identity, character models are expressive, and dynamic lighting heightens suspense at every turn. Performance on the Switch 2 is impressively stable, with environmental storytelling and subtle visual cues constantly reinforcing the atmosphere.

Audio elevates everything further. Voice acting, particularly Grace’s, carries emotional weight, and the sound design makes every footstep and distant groan matter. While the soundtrack may lack a single instantly iconic anthem, it consistently supports the mood with polish and restraint.

The Negatives ⚠️

Requiem’s greatest strength, its dense connection to decades of lore, can also be a barrier. New players who ignore files and background documents may find themselves overwhelmed by terminology, callbacks, and layered implications that the game doesn’t always slow down to explain.

The narrative assumes familiarity, particularly with Umbrella’s history and the long shadow of Raccoon City. While the game makes an effort to contextualize events, some emotional beats land harder if you’ve lived through the series’ earlier chapters.

Musically, while strong overall, the soundtrack lacks that one defining track that immediately cements itself in franchise history. It complements the experience beautifully, but it doesn’t quite deliver a melody that lingers the way some past entries have.

Grace’s slower, tension-heavy pacing may not appeal to players who prefer constant action, while Leon’s heavier combat focus might feel overwhelming to those craving pure survival horror. The balance works, but preference will dictate which half resonates more.

And yes, nostalgia fuels much of the impact. If you don’t have that emotional connection to returning faces and locations, some of the biggest reveals may feel impressive rather than transformative.

The Experience 🎮

Horror is my comfort zone. Dim corridors, limited ammo, something breathing just out of sight, that’s home for me. But Resident Evil isn’t just another horror series in my library. It was my first game. Save room themes were practically lullabies growing up. So stepping into Requiem wasn’t casual, it was personal.

Grace’s sections genuinely got under my skin. Watching her hands shake as I aimed, hearing her stumble mid-sprint, feeling her fear bleed into my own, it created a level of immersion that’s rare. I’d find myself frozen in a lit hallway, waiting for danger to pass, fully aware I could handle it mechanically, yet still hesitating because she wasn’t ready.

Then the shift to Leon changed everything. Suddenly I wasn’t creeping, I was advancing. I wasn’t rationing bullets, I was managing space and crowd control. His confidence is contagious, and the game smartly reflects his experience in the way he fights and adapts. The contrast between them never feels jarring; it feels intentional, like two philosophies of survival coexisting in one story.

What hit hardest, though, was the return to Raccoon City. After decades of fragmented reports and half-truths, finally getting clarity felt monumental. Depending on your ending, there’s even a fragile sense of closure, something this series has rarely allowed itself.

For $69.99, Requiem isn’t just content-rich, it’s confident, cohesive, and deeply respectful of its legacy while still evolving it. We’re only early into the year, but it already feels like a Game of the Year contender. For fans, it’s essential. For horror lovers, it’s a masterclass.