You are Leon Kennedy, special officer of the President of the United States. You're here in this Eastern European village on a mission to find his daughter, taken hostage by a strange cult. Dropped off by your guides, you see a cabin in front of you and approach it. The single occupant stands, leaning over his fire. You disturb him, and get only an incomprehensible rant in return. As you turn he grabs an axe. He swings, and you dodge the assault. So you whip out your handgun and shoot him down. Through the window you spot more disgruntled locals closing in, and in the background you can here your only ride crashing and exploding.

You then investigate the corpse. "He's not a zombie…" the game assures you.

No; he's something much worse.

You're Leon Kennedy, and you're about to have the worst day in your life. Again.

Welcome back, Resident Evil.

Nature dictates that all organisms must evolve and adapt to their new environments in order to survive. The same can be said for videogames, and Capcom know this. The Resident Evil series deserves our respect for propelling survival horror into mass success, popularising the formula laid down by Alone In The Dark before it; but the franchise was getting stale. After three sequels, a prequel, a remake and various shoddy spin-offs, the name was losing its shine. Known less as a moniker for the fine design and scares of the earlier games it was fading into a joke; one known as much for its cumbersome conventions than its achievements. A change was needed to show everyone that RE could still deliver, and RE4 is by all accounts that affirmation.

Capcom didn't pussyfoot about it. Knife in hand they began cutting away at RE hallmarks like well-trained butchers. Static camera angles; painted backgrounds; fixed inventory slots; magical item chests; the notorious control method: all gone. The most emblematic casualty though is the zombies, who have become synonymous with the RE brand. You can tell they're being serious about making changes then.

Meet your new hero. Now meet your blazing stake holding adversaries.

Surgeon-like precision was needed, because the RE formula was a delicate one where clumsy fumbling would have disastrous consequences. Resident Evil was built around delivering a certain kind of Hitchcockian horror, and did so with remarkable success. The clever camera angles; the severely limited inventory space; the chests as the only method of item management; the vague and ineffective combat; even the unhelpful controls: every aspect of RE was tailor made to create a certain experience. As much restraint was on the player as possible, weighing down your breathing room and emphasising the horror of the situation. It forced you to be scared by something as normally throwaway as a zombie, since the game had already stacked odds against you.

People complained about the inaccessibility of RE's gameplay; but that was the point. The tension in the game was the product of all these aspects being so fine-tuned, which is why the dilution of them in the sequels bred a less memorable time. The remake on GameCube was the best in the franchise because it took the original's almost perfect formula, glossened it, sharpened it and saturated it in powerful new aesthetics. RE Zero was good, but its hyped changes were generally ineffective, only tinkering with a winning formula.

If you were going to make any major changes to the checks and balances that governed the gameplay, you needed to shift the entire experience to accommodate them, because it was too fragile a setup. Resident Evil 4, I'm pleased to report, makes this shift well, delivering a experience that is more evolutionary than revolutionary, in all the best ways.

"Resident Evil goes 3D" went the tagline, and it's probably the best point to start talking about the game's departure from the traditional RE way of doing things. The loss of the fixed camera means broader, more open environments, but it's also the loss of one of the vital tools of controlling mood. With this there was a danger that the players' freedom to move around care freely would trample over the dramatic tension, but Capcom have skirted this hazard skilfully. Even after changes, the camera control remains quite limited. There are no camera options with no zooming in or out or sailing through your environment. It even forgoes the usual distance put between your viewpoint and the player in third-person adventure or action games, almost sticking to Leon's back. Manual movement doesn't go beyond a tight swivel with the C-Stick, either, useful only to check what's behind a corner, although the quicker pace means you won't be concerning yourself with this that much.

Young Ashley, safe and sound.. well.. till she gets snatched away that is.

Fixed camera meant the focus was on that corner behind which all manner of evil could be hiding; the new camera broadens the focus of your fear. Attacks come from all directions now, in all manner and form. You can't concentrate on the approaching assailants, because that's ignoring potential axe attacks from behind, pitchforks from the sides, flaming arrows from the upstairs window and even the odd rusty bear trap snapping at your feet. 3D or not, viewpoint restrictions remain, which force you to constantly be on your toes. For calamity resides everywhere in RE4.

The real consequence of the adoption of 3D locations is the increased interactivity with them, and real sense of authenticity this helps to bring. Stunning as they were, the locations in RE always felt rather fake, just artificial backdrops to the game's linearity; but here they do not. Here you can leap over fences, jump through windows, seek refuge in nearby buildings, knock down ladders, drop down ledges, all with a Shenmue-esque ACS; your environment feels real and alive. It makes the enemy firefights all the more interesting because it opens up how you can approach the testy encounters.

And thanks to the GameCube's capabilities, and Capcom's obvious ability to handle them, the environments constantly impress. Not only do they feel authentic, but they look it. The game's opening villages are utterly believable; the aging, cracked wood that makes up the structures, the rotting vegetation and subtle greys. Wading through such a beautifully realised location in the dead of night, the rain lashing down and the odd forked strike flashing up your view, is wonderfully atmospheric. When the game switches to the interiors of a local castle, the crisp design evokes the Gothic feel Capcom were surely going for.

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The game runs through varying locations with dizzying dexterity. Your journey will take you through dingy, rotten sewers, vast, creepy caverns and more; all creating their own effective mood and all presented with startling success. In fact, its dexterity is probably RE4's greatest attribute. It's not particularly new (note the incongruity of RE1's Hitchcockian tension and its B-Movie giant creature battles) but never has it been this daring.

The aforementioned sense of danger is heightened by enemies that are cleverer and quicker than your average zombie. Mostly because they're kinda not. Instead of the mainstay of the brand we have scruffy, brainwashed villagers, who aren't quite as devious as hype had made them out to be (they don't go past ducking and weaving to avoid attacks), but nonetheless provide a refreshing change from the living dead. For most of the game, your fear comes from the hordes of villagers that swarm you, and the frantic intensity created by the combat that follows. And when you have to protect other characters at the same time, it's another layer of tension on top.

There's a greater emphasis on combat now, and one that works for the most part. Aiming a weapon sends you almost into first-person view, the camera giving appropriate attention to the firearm and its laser sight. This introduces a bit of thought into the shooting; a well-aimed shot can behead an attacker instantly, or explode the small explosive out of his hand, or stop the small axe that's cutting through the air at you. The range of weapons has been bumped up, including shotguns, magnums, and more…damage-inflicting options. Curiously, as if to solidify to new action slant, you're given the option to buy and upgrade weapons at numerous points in the game with money and treasure scattered throughout it. It definitely adds to the proceedings, forcing you to decide on whether to bolster your current arsenal or deck out on fancy new hardware. Given the increasing resilience of your adversaries as the game progresses, it's a welcome addition.

Upgrade your arsenary. Its pretty essential really. And just look at the delight of that destruction.

Copious amounts of action is nothing new to the RE series, but it's never been done as properly as this. RE3: Nemesis saw you mowing down legions of the undead with your trusty machine gun, simultaneously riddling the dramatic tension with bullet holes and degenerating the proceedings into pointless massacres. RE4 is clever enough to avoid this; the quasi first-person view reduces your field of vision dramatically, inducing great paranoia. Aiming and turning speed is limited too, so when the action picks up things can get very difficult very fast.

The highlight of this is when the game switches to a siege mentality, holing you up in a small space and sending waves of enemies in your direction. Your nerves will take quite a beating when they're pouring in from all windows and your meagre ammo count is quickly dwindling; the claustrophobia setting in as they quickly swarm in around you, forcing one last, heroic stand. RE gives you several Alamos of your own.

However, given the design and AI scripting points, it was impossible so sustain this through the entirety of the game. So, at some points, the action does buckle. The game can become a mere duck-and-cover duel, and the tension temporarily breaks down. An unnecessary character diversion has the same effect. Such moments are greatly in the minority, but do stick out. Thankfully the game readily makes up for them.

Although the panic-inducing frenzies of villager attacks were trumpeted before release, more impressive is the dexterity by which RE4 moves through the spectrum of horror. The tight, controlled tone of RE1 makes an appearance later on, with narrow spaces and formidable opponents. You're treated to disturbing imagery reminiscent of Silent Hill, and some shock horror moments as good as the 'dogs through window' jump of RE1: one in particular is just as good. Bosses range from the terror-inducing, to the visually astounding, to gigantic Goliaths and to absurdly grotesque mega monsters, with obligatory weak points cheekily blatant.

Ah the evil's to come.. good job its just a game right.. right?!

Recent words from Capcom have promised a follow-up, but, certain plot points aside, RE4 would've made a fine bookend to the series. It revels in the conventions of survival horror; characters appear and disappear with ease, Leon is not afforded; or introduced deus ex machina situations. The game wears its heritage on its sleeve, still using typewriters as inexplicable save devices (no ink ribbons needed this time though, so it's a superficial throwback only), still giving you herbs to heal and an ending that's a nice homage to the original's finale. And, surprise, surprise, the "U" word hasn't quite been laid to rest.

Being steeped in its past makes the game's leaps all the more impressive. This isn't 1996 any more, and it knows this. The technical aspects of the game are decidedly modern; it has to be one of the best looking titles on GameCube, and makes almost perfect use of its audio. As mentioned earlier, the environments are very authentic, but so is everything else. The rain lashing down, the water and fire effects, the animation of the enemies, the lighting that evokes so much atmosphere, the slimy goo that runs down the more ugly monsters and drips off them and, of course, the gore. This is the goriest RE yet. Headshots produce an explosion of blood, and just wait until you meet the monster that regrows limbs. You'll have fun with that. Leon's own demise can be rendered with brutal bluntness…let's just say a chainsaw through the neck isn't the cleanest of cuts.

Less assuming is the soundtrack, but it has got to be the most effective yet in the series. Like some wonderful puppeteer, the game pulls just the right strings to punctuate the on-screen action. Impromptu high notes shatter the silence and your nerves in one, before anticipating some close danger with a low, building beat. Wild boss battles are accompanied with epic classical music, unashamedly bellowing pride of the over-the-top fight on hand. Even better is the restraint the game shows; sometimes abandoning music when the in-game sound effects need emphasis. There are few things less terrifying than the incessant clanging noise of a monster running up the steel corridor behind you when you're wounded and trying to hold on for dear life. The game always seems to know exactly what fits the moment, and the terror is all the more affecting for it.

What is certain is that RE4 gives you one of the most pleasing game experiences of this generation. Few words can explain the sheer joy of playing it, because it's constantly throwing up new things to marvel at. And it just feels so affirming to play a game this confident, this well-crafted, this, well, fun. It mightn't be as specifically scary as other survival horror, but this is survival horror filtered through action and adventure principles, ultimately showing great competency at them all.

It's perhaps fitting that GameCube, home of perfected Resident Evil (the remake) and its revelatory beginnings (Zero) should be the console to bring its new twist on survival horror to the world. And wherever the series goes from here, we can be sure it's in the hands of talented, peerless designers.

Resident Evil 4 is proof of that.