@Litchie said:
@nod_calypse said:
@Litchie: Again, fair enough. Opinions are fine to have. It just so happens that your opinion on Village is in the extreme minority. Most people think it's outstanding, and so did critics, largely. That shouldn't bother you, though. No need to call anybody a moron for simply liking a game. Your opinion is yours.
Yeah, that wasn't a dig at you or anyone here who likes Village, though it did come out that way, my apologies. That was just a rant about the average gamer of today. Only going with what's popular would be terrible, so when someone says "but it got these rewards" or something similar, I tend to get annoyed.
If someone who loves Village could go a bit in depth about why they love it over something like RE2, I'd love to hear about it.
Yeah that's cool. Fair enough.
So, personally, I separate "modern" RE with older RE. I just can't compare the two eras. Older RE games are nothing like the new ones, really. Totally different design philosophies. RE0-3, plus Veronica, would be older. Anything later, 4-8, Revelations, is modern, I'd say. 4 is where the series really split into new territory.
For the older games, 2 is king imo. And I'm not even talking the remake. The original RE2 is a masterpiece.
Anyway. Reasons I like Village. First off, the proper implementation of isolationist dogma. Castle Dimitrescu is the cornerstone of revisionist evil, in that it seeks to portray itself as the facade of evil with a capital E, masquerading as an idol. Lady Dimitrescu herself is the false Beast, an actual Beast, mind you, but one that does not contain the keys to the kingdom, per se. Only the Mother, herself a grotesque reversal of the Father, knows the hour, if we're talking biblically. And make no mistake, Village is a direct reversal of the Bible. Mother Miranda seeks power, but is not inherently possessive of it; her source of motivation is worldly, a disconnection with her child, which leads her down the left-hand path of insanity. Her love knows no bounds, and is thus burning out of control. In her quest to be godhead, she seeks to utilize worldly, as well as occult, methodology to make a Lazarus of her child. This is not what the Father does, nor the Son, both of which are inherently miraculous. Mother Miranda is bound by her flesh, and liberated in a false sense by forbidden tools and methods. One of her tools is her children, not her true child, but those she bequeaths occultic powers to via said taboo methods. She literally transmits her insanity, like a virus, and the result is the four lords, who are the absolute embodiment of pure evil, in that evil is at its worst when it is disconnected from sanity in a literal psychological lake of fire scenario where there is no coming back. There is no return for Lady Dimitrescu and company, unlike in 7 with the Bakers, because not only have they been infected, but they have accepted positions of prestige within the false god's kingdom. The really interesting aspect of this is that each domain is tinged with the respective lord's personality. None of them are identical, and far from it: Castle Dimistrescu is a reflection of extreme anemic royalty, with the very inward-turning design of the halls and wings being cannibalistic symbolically; the doll house is the captured essence of the dawdling child, her personality compartmentalized and segregated in order to deal with trauma, the "baby" in the house being the symbol of the core personality run amok, needing love, and not finding it, and thus driven to perversity; the fish-man domain, as i call it, if the symbolic representation of arrested development, in that fish represent evolution's beginnings, and we see this played out in the absurd abyss of Moreau's self-esteem issues; the factory is the embodiment of rebellion, a place of construction, where Heisenberg attempts, in vain, endlessly, to "build" a reality above that of the Mother, not realizing, or else refusing to see, that he is essentially trying to square the circle.
I could go on, but that's a big part of why I like this game.
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