February of last year marked the beginning of Shamus and I streaming Resident Evil 5, one of my most beloved yet flawed games. There’s nothing quite like it, nor has there been anything like it since. I imagine some might point to Resident Evil 6 as being similar, but that game had so many AAA ambitions that all collapsed under the sheer weight and lack of focus to it all. Here, Resident Evil 5 seems like a simple enough proposition: take what made Resident Evil 4 so good, and reconfigure it for two-player co-op.

I had written an introduction for Shamus to try and set the scene as a brief explanation as to why this game exists, as well as propose my own mission to try and analyze and figure out what the game does well. Instead, the series was more mocking and groaning than it was positive analysis, as so many decisions end up being quite baffling and even confusing. It is a game that I think will need a proper analytical video one day.

As for this episode in particular, Shamus had many a gripe regarding the ammunition system. At first we were under the impression that the game intended certain weapons for certain characters – so the shotgun for Chris and the TMP and rifle for Sheva – but as the series went on, I began to theorize if the ammunition system is instead based around what your partner has, specifically, in order to encourage teamwork.

Such a creative decision would truly encapsulate all that makes Resident Evil 5 what it is.

In regards to the narrative, I do believe Resident Evil 5 marks a shift in tone for the franchise. There was always a sense of bombastic spectacle to the series, but it feels like this entry is where everything becomes not only serious, but gravely serious. Many of the ideas contained within feel as typically B-movie and even idiotic as ever, but the acting, production values, and “choreography” are all too high of a quality to carry that same camp and comedy.

It doesn’t help that my own personal introduction was the GameCube remake of the original. While many of the cut-scenes featuring the likes of Jill and Barry were campy and even silly, the overall plot itself was small enough in scale that it didn’t feel absurd. The “real story”, as I perceived it, was found in the relatively well-written journals and notes documenting the evil machinations of Oswald Spencer, the suffering and tragedy of George Trevor and his family, and the downfall of the Arklay Mansion. Jill Valentine and Chris Redfield were essentially just there to blow it all up. The story wasn’t theirs, they merely concluded it.

This mentality is likely why my time with the Resident Evil 2 GameCube port was so mixed. The acting was notably inferior, the presence and control of Umbrella in the city became absurd, and the documentation and narrative failed to capture that same horror and tragedy as the first game. Despite this, it at least felt like a natural evolution to go from Resident Evil 2’s camp to Resident Evil 4’s self-aware nature. Leon was the perfect protagonist, cracking wise and shrugging off every over-the-top and overly serious villain’s monologue. The game was ridiculous, but thanks to Leon, the player felt as if they were in on the joke.

Resident Evil 5 tries to be as serious as the Resident Evil Remake, but is as stupid and absurd as Resident Evil 2. This mixture was the core of my problems with the fifth and sixth entries in the franchise, and unfortunately seems to have reared its ugly head once more in Village.

I’m sure we’ll have plenty of reasons to groan at the story later on. In all honesty, however, while I’m sad I didn’t get to play more games with Shamus, I’m glad we got to play Resident Evil 5 together before he passed away. From now on, it will undoubtedly carry an even more prominent place in my heart for that reason alone.