From Elden Ring Skeptic to Resident Evil 4 Appreciator: How Dying Made Me Git Gud

You know, it's funny how a game you just couldn't vibe with suddenly makes sense when you're staring down the barrel of a chainsaw in a different one. Last year, when the entire gaming world was chanting "Elden Ring" like a sacred mantra, I was the guy in the corner, politely nodding but not really feeling the hype. I could see its brilliance, sure. It turned a genre that used to hold your hand on a straight path into this vast, mysterious playground where you write your own story. The mechanics were deep, the world was a beautifully rotten take on fantasy tropes, and on paper, I should have loved it. But as a player just trying to have a good time? Nah, it just wasn't clicking for me. I'd hear no defense of it—it simply wasn't my cup of estus. I never hated on its success; a massive new game that doesn't treat you like a toddler or chase every trend deserves all the praise. But the why of its beloved status? That remained a mystery... until I spent a weekend getting my face chewed off in the Resident Evil 4 Remake.

Let's be real, if you ever dare to whisper a word of criticism about Elden Ring, the internet's immediate, knee-jerk response is a resounding "git gud." And hey, I get it. The difficulty is the whole point, the core identity. So when someone says they don't like it, the natural assumption is that they threw in the towel because it kicked their butt too hard. Maybe they did. Heck, maybe I did. I'm not even sure what the final straw was. It wasn't a dramatic rage-quit against some demigod. I just... drifted. I'd wander into some spooky cave, poke around, not really learn anything, stumble into a boss room, get instantly vaporized, realize I was in way over my head, and then just wander off to do something else. The whole experience felt aimless, and let me tell you, dying every five minutes doesn't exactly spice up a sightseeing tour.

Would I have enjoyed that wandering more if I wasn't getting turned into a stain on the floor every other minute? Possibly. But the die-hard fans will tell you, with a glint in their eye, that the dying is the experience. That stripping away the struggle would fundamentally break the game. And this past weekend, a lightbulb went off over my head: That's exactly how I feel about Resident Evil 4.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying RE4 is as brutally difficult as Elden Ring. But oh boy, does it make you feel the pressure. The game is designed to oppress you, to make every bullet count and every corner terrifying. Canonically, Leon S. Kennedy is this unstoppable badass who saves the day. But for us, the players? It's crucial that we get absolutely wrecked in that opening village siege. It's essential that Ashley gets snatched back, that we take a pitchfork to the neck or an axe to the skull. Those failures aren't just setbacks; they're the texture of the game, the stories we tell afterwards. "Remember that time I got chainsawed in half?" That's the good stuff.

My wife enjoys watching me play horror games. She even wanted to take the controller in Resident Evil Village to explore the castle or solve puzzles. But she has never asked to play as Leon in RE4. And it's not because Ethan Winters is some charismatic powerhouse—let's be honest, the man's a magnet for dismemberment. It's because she's seen me die in RE4 more times than she's seen me take out the trash. She gets it. The struggle is real.

This realization got me thinking. I don't want Resident Evil 4 to scare off newcomers, because I genuinely believe it's a masterpiece, arguably the greatest horror game ever made. But... do I love it so much because it punishes you? Because it constantly smacks down any attempt to play like an invincible action hero and forces you to think, scramble, and survive? Have I, without even noticing, become the very thing I once shrugged off? Have I gone from the one being told to "git gud" to the one quietly believing that the "gud" part is what makes it great?

I wouldn't change a single thing about Resident Evil 4. Hearing that Capcom has polished up the remake with some smart tweaks only makes me more excited to dive back in. And that dive, at least initially, will almost certainly end with Leon meeting a gruesome end. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way. The tension, the fear of loss, the triumph of barely making it through—that's the heart of the experience. It's not about being the best; it's about earning every step forward.

So, maybe it's time. Maybe I should finally sheath my combat knife, leave the Spanish countryside behind, and take another stroll through the Lands Between. This time, with a little more understanding. This time, knowing that sometimes, the point isn't to win effortlessly, but to struggle gloriously. The journey is the destination, even if that destination is a "YOU DIED" screen more often than not. Who knows, I might finally see what all the fuss was about. Or I'll get flattened by a giant crab again. Either way, it'll be a story to tell.