Resident Evil 2

Playing Resident Evil 2 on the Nintendo 64 is a completely different experience compared to its PlayStation counterpart—and I say that as someone who has spent many late nights surviving the nightmare of Raccoon City on multiple platforms. There’s something fascinating about booting up such a massive, cinematic survival horror title on a cartridge-based system like the N64. Even before you begin, knowing that the entire two-disc PlayStation game was compressed onto a single cartridge makes the experience feel technically impressive. But beyond the technical achievement, what really matters is how it feels to play—and honestly, it still delivers tension in a way few games can.

The game drops you into the chaos of Raccoon City, where a viral outbreak has transformed the population into zombies and other grotesque creatures. You choose between Leon S. Kennedy, a rookie police officer on his first day, or Claire Redfield, a college student searching for her brother. I personally started with Leon, and the opening moments—crashing into the city, surrounded by burning streets and moaning undead—immediately set the tone. Even with the N64’s graphical limitations, the atmosphere remains thick and oppressive.

One thing that surprised me while replaying this version is how well the pre-rendered backgrounds hold up. They’re slightly more compressed than on PlayStation, but unless you’re directly comparing them side-by-side, the difference isn’t distracting. The fixed camera angles still create that signature survival horror tension. You never quite know what’s waiting just off-screen. Walking down a quiet hallway in the Raccoon Police Department, hearing distant shuffling, and not knowing when the camera will shift to reveal a zombie inches away from your character—that feeling hasn’t aged at all.

The controls use the classic “tank” system, which can feel stiff by modern standards. However, once you get into the rhythm, it becomes part of the tension. Turning slowly while a zombie staggers toward you forces you to commit to your movements. There’s no quick escape. Every bullet counts, every step matters. I found myself carefully planning routes, deciding whether to eliminate enemies or conserve ammo. That constant resource management is what keeps the game gripping.

What truly stands out in the N64 version is the inclusion of bonus content. Unlike the original PlayStation release, this version includes additional files, randomizer options, and even alternate costumes unlocked through gameplay. The randomizer mode, in particular, adds serious replay value. Items appear in different locations, which means even if you know the police station like the back of your hand, you can’t rely on memory alone. It makes subsequent playthroughs feel fresh.

The sound design is another highlight. The N64’s cartridge format means shorter load times, and that improves pacing significantly. Doors open faster than on PlayStation, reducing interruptions while maintaining suspense. The music—especially the eerie save room theme—still gives me chills. Sound effects like distant glass breaking or sudden zombie groans are perfectly placed. Playing with the lights off and volume slightly elevated genuinely enhances the fear factor.

Graphically, character models are slightly sharper in some areas due to hardware differences, though textures are understandably compressed. Cutscenes are lower resolution, but surprisingly, they retain their cinematic impact. The story unfolds through these scenes and in-game interactions, and despite some campy late-90s voice acting, the narrative holds up well. The escalating horror, the introduction of the terrifying Tyrant (Mr. X), and the grotesque boss mutations still create unforgettable moments.

What really struck me while replaying this version is how carefully paced everything is. The game doesn’t overwhelm you with constant action. Instead, it builds dread slowly. Long stretches of exploration are suddenly interrupted by panic-inducing encounters. One of my most memorable moments was revisiting a seemingly cleared hallway only to have Lickers crash through the windows. Even though I knew it was coming from past playthroughs, it still startled me.

Compared to modern survival horror games, Resident Evil 2 feels more deliberate and methodical. There’s no hand-holding, no objective markers guiding every step. You explore, examine items, read files, and piece together puzzles yourself. That slower pace makes success more rewarding. Solving a puzzle after carefully searching every room feels earned.

From a technical perspective, it’s almost unbelievable that this version exists. Fitting such a content-heavy, FMV-filled game onto an N64 cartridge was once thought impossible. Yet here it is—not just functional, but impressive. The faster loading times even give it an edge in terms of flow.

In the end, playing Resident Evil 2 on N64 feels like experiencing a piece of gaming history. It captures the golden era of survival horror while showcasing the ingenuity of developers pushing hardware to its limits. It may not have modern graphics or fluid controls, but the atmosphere, pacing, and design remain powerful.

Even today, stepping into the dark corridors of the Raccoon Police Department still feels tense. And that, more than anything, proves how timeless this game truly is.