The linearity that critics decry is actually a feature. This isn’t a metroidvania; it’s a gauntlet. You move from the exploding subway tunnels to the cursed corridors of the hospital, to the industrial hellscape of the NEST 2 lab. The pacing is relentless. It’s the video game equivalent of a hard techno track—no ballads, no breathers, just a steady build to a percussive climax. Then there is Jill Valentine. Gone is the beret-wearing, lock-picking everywoman of the original. In her place is a battle-hardened, sarcastic, and deeply traumatized survivor. She isn’t waiting for help. She’s here to burn the whole rotten system down.
It was never going to be easy to follow Resident Evil 2 (2019) . Capcom’s remake of its 1998 masterpiece wasn’t just a good game—it was a miracle. It proved that survival horror, a genre often relegated to indie pixel-art graveyards, could still command triple-A budgets, photorealistic dread, and mainstream adoration. Resident Evil 3 Remake
So when Resident Evil 3 Remake launched in April 2020, the internet did what the internet does. It sharpened its knives. The complaints were immediate and loud: It’s too short. They cut the Clock Tower. Where’s the live selection? Nemesis just turns into a dog? The linearity that critics decry is actually a feature
While this disappointed purists, it’s a logical conclusion of the action-horror thesis. A persistent stalker works in a slow game. In a fast game, it becomes an annoyance. Capcom chose spectacle over tension. Whether that was the right call depends on what you came for. If you wanted Alien: Isolation , you left angry. If you wanted Terminator 2 , you got exactly that. Let’s address the clock. Yes, RE3 Remake can be beaten in five to six hours. Yes, it cut beloved locations like the Clock Tower and the Park. Yes, the "Resistance" multiplayer mode was a tacked-on afterthought. The pacing is relentless
But here is the defense: RE3 Remake is a great game to replay. It is designed for the speedrun. The shop system, which unlocks infinite weapons, coins, and manuals based on points earned from completing challenges, turns the second playthrough into a completely different experience. The first run is survival. The fifth run is John Wick .
But in the rush to label it a disappointment, we may have missed the point. RE3 Remake isn't a failed horror game. It is a surgical, high-octane action-thriller that uses the language of survival horror to tell a different story: one about firepower, panic, and the sheer exhausting terror of being hunted by an unstoppable force. One of the most under-discussed triumphs of RE3 Remake is its setting. While RE2 trapped you in the claustrophobic, clockwork puzzle-box of the Raccoon City Police Department, RE3 throws you into the burning, bleeding streets of the city itself.
Downtown Raccoon City has never looked more apocalyptic. Capcom’s RE Engine renders every shattered storefront, every abandoned squad car, and every flickering neon sign with horrifying fidelity. The game opens with Jill Valentine watching a helicopter crash into a gas station—not in a cutscene, but in real-time, controllable gameplay. It’s a statement of intent: this is not a slow-burn mystery. This is a disaster movie you are piloting through.