I’m one of those who welcomes news of game remakes. Rather than seeing them as tired, lazy cash-in rehashes of boring, old titles I see each as a potential opportunity to revisit an old favourite, enhanced with modern bells and whistles.
I know as well as anyone that not every ‘HD Edition’ or ‘Remaster’ is as carefully and lovingly put together as the next, but the work of teams such as Bluepoint Games, M2, Iron Galaxy and other specialist studios form a treasured part of my collection.
It’s fair to say that the downloadable PS3/Xbox 360 versions of Resident Evil (Biohazard) 4 – one of my all-time favourite videogames – weren’t as spectacular or comprehensive in terms of upgrades as, say, The Metal Gear Solid Collection or The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D, but they were perfectly acceptable with no experience-destroying Silent Hill Collection style issues.
Besides, the more recent PC ‘Ultimate HD’ version went some way further to providing the ‘ultimate’ (so far) Resi 4 experience.
All this considered, I’m very much looking forward to Resident Evil the re-REmake. A last and current-gen up-rezzing of one of the most fondly-regarded ground-up remakes in history, the 2002 GameCube version of Capcom’s 1996 survival horror smash.
You may well ask what all this rambling has to do with music, well, nothing more than that thinking about playing Resi again has got me thinking about just how much I love the ‘safe room’ themes from the series.
Rarely have pieces of music made me feel simultaneously warmed and chilled, equal parts comforted and disquieted.
That, to me, is their brilliance – the way they make the player know that they have temporary respite in the sanctity of that space, but that short of remaining there, the relief can only be short-lived before they must return to the monster-infested corridors. Like they’d want it any other way.
Let’s go back through the series and remember the glow of the lamp, the creak of the item chest and the chatter of typewriter (rather than zombie) teeth…
The tone was set by the debut game. That welcome rush of reprieve upon locating that first safe-haven will stay with a generation of gamers. Multiple composers worked on most of the Biohazard games and I’m afraid I don’t know who specifically wrote these pieces or if they were collaborations.
What’s interesting here is this piece’s reminiscence of a slowed-down Bramble Blast (by David Wise) from Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest (released the year before Biohazard/Resi 1 in 1995).
The piano and strings of Resident Evil 2’s (composers Masami Ueda, Shusaku Uchiyama, Shun Nishigaki) safe room music was more urban-sounding, cinematic and more obviously ominous, rather than the creeping lull of the first game’s piece.
Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (Biohazard: The Last Escape – composers Masami Ueda, Saori Maeda) has a similar vibe to its predecessor. Appropriate as, set at the same time and place as Resi 2, this was originally intended to be a stopgap ‘Gaiden’ or side-story game.
Code: Veronica’s lilting lullaby (composers Takeshi Miura, Hijiri Anze, Sanae Kasahara) only just retains a sinister edge for what is famously a rather long and challenging entry in the series. Pleasant enough for sure but perhaps a bit too Hollywood for my tastes.
As with almost everything else in the game, the 2002 GameCube remake‘s (also later released on Wii – composers Shusaku Uchiyama, Makoto Tomozawa, Misao Senbongi) safe room theme is a variation on/refinement of the original’s.
Resident Evil Zero’s (composer Seiko Kobuchi) safe room music is to me as forgettable as apparently the game was to many players.
Perhaps my favourite this next one, a queasily enigmatic blend of backwards ambience and a melody that never resolves. This is the safe room theme that gives my mind the strongest feeling of some sort of a false sense of security, like I’m temporarily somnambulant but about to become overwhelmed by the cloying, sticky atmosphere of Resident Evil 4 (composers Misao Senbongi, Shusaku Uchiyama.
And so, with Resident Evils 5 and 6 dispensing with the – admittedly rather old-fashioned – safe room conceit, that was that.
I just know though that when I’m playing the HD version of the 2002 remake later this year and I drag a limping Chris Redfield in through that creaky animated door, I’ll let that music once again soothe me like so much balm.
