The Dumbest Complaint Players Have About Resident Evil Requiem

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If you blinked, you missed the whole argument—then Twitter refused to let it go. I watched a short clip of Grace brushing a curtain and realized the pile-on had already started. A tiny ripple turned into a thousand hot takes.

pic.twitter.com/RODx1cgarl

— 定 (@de3dsoul) March 13, 2026

Resident Evil Requiem RE9 Grace
Image via Capcom

The clip shows a curtain jiggle that looks wrong — and people screamed into the void

You’ve seen the 10-second loop: Grace walks past curtains in Resident Evil Requiem and the fabric folds like it forgot how to be cloth. The clip from Twitter user @de3dsoul hit Metacritic threads and subreddits, and suddenly everyone with an opinion felt qualified to grade Capcom’s physics department.

I get why it irks you. Visual fidelity is a scoreboard we all keep. But scolding a studio for an imperfect curtain is also a fast track to losing small, delightful details in future games.

Why are players complaining about Resident Evil Requiem?

Because the internet rewards outrage. You and I both know how a single, odd frame becomes proof that a billion-dollar studio “slacked off.” People compare RE9 to Rockstar’s Red Dead Redemption 2, which set a high bar for passive world detail in 2018.

The comparison is obvious — Rockstar spent years on tiny flourishes

RDR2’s curtains and horsemanes are famous for being stubbornly detailed; it shows. Rockstar ships fewer games, and each one is laden with micro-behaviors that cost time and money. Capcom, by contrast, ships more often and experiments across genres.

That difference matters. When a clip pits Capcom’s fast cadence against Rockstar’s painstaking pace, the signal you feel—“this should be better”—is less about skill and more about production choices.

Does cloth physics actually matter to gameplay?

Not usually. Cloth that flaps for atmosphere is decoration, not mechanics. You can still get goosebumps from RE9 without perfect curtains. But the fear driving the backlash is real: if enough players mock optional details, studios may stop adding them at all.

I watched the replies and noticed a recurring pattern — tribal scoring beats nuance

Comments split into two camps: defenders praising pacing and fun, and nitpickers hunting tiny imperfections. Some replies read like ritualized brand loyalty: “RE9 is ten times more fun” countered by “RDR2 is a masterpiece.”

Both sides are performing identity through taste. You’re not just rating a curtain; you’re declaring which studio’s philosophy you back: the one that polishes every idle motion, or the one that ships exciting games more often.

I’ll be blunt: the clip makes the curtain look like a paper puppet. That image sticks. It’s short, damning, and easily memed. But it’s also a narrow lens on an entire game built by teams balancing art, time, and the RE Engine’s limits.

Capcom choices here mirror a wider industry trade-off. Add perfect cloth everywhere and development swells—longer schedules, higher budgets, and fewer releases. Opt for reasonable detail and you keep creative bandwidth for monsters, level design, and pacing.

The angry takeaway is simple: when Twitter spots a flaw, criticism spreads faster than context. And when context gets drowned out, developers may prune the little things that make worlds feel lived-in.

I checked how the conversation affected marketplaces — and noticed a practical risk

Metacritic scores and Steam review trends react to viral moments. A skewer on social can tilt public perception, which can affect long-tail sales and PR cycles. That’s why studios care about image details, even the tiny ones.

If you want more flourishes in your games, you can argue for forgiving the odd ripple. If you want flawless simulation, be ready to accept fewer releases and higher prices—trade-offs any publisher from Capcom to Sony faces.

The clip also reminded me of another image: the whole debate, briefly, felt as flimsy as a house of cards. Two impermanent things stacked together—one bad frame and one viral thread—can topple a nuance that took artists hours to craft.

So what do you want from games? Perfection in every decorative asset, or more frequent, spirited games that sometimes leave a curtain limp for two frames? Which choice will you defend when the next tiny flaw goes viral?