You’re staring at a screen filled with spikes. One pixel to the left, you die. One pixel to the right, you also die. If you’ve ever touched the I Want to Be That Guy game, you know exactly what this flavor of madness feels like. It’s a subgenre of gaming that shouldn’t work. It’s unfair. It’s mean-spirited. Yet, for a specific corner of the internet, it’s the ultimate test of patience.
Honestly, the game is a tribute to a tribute. It’s a fangame of I Wanna Be The Guy: The Movie: The Game, which Kayin released back in 2007. While the original was a love letter to the era of Nintendo Hard gaming—think Mega Man, Metroid, and Ghosts 'n Goblins—the "That Guy" iteration and its subsequent variations pushed that logic into the realm of the absurd. It’s not about fair play. It’s about trial and error until your brain literally re-wires itself to predict where the hidden trapdoor is.
Most people quit within ten minutes. I don’t blame them.
The Evolution of the Masochism Platformer
The I Want to Be That Guy game isn't just one single file you download; it’s part of a massive ecosystem of "needle games" and "tribute games." Why do we call them that? Because the gaps you have to jump through are often the width of a single pixel—a needle’s eye.
Back in the mid-2000s, the indie scene was obsessed with deconstructing old tropes. I Wanna Be The Guy did this by taking the "Kid" (your protagonist) and putting him in a world where the fruit on the trees falls up to kill you. It subverted every rule of game design. If a platform looked safe, it wasn't. If a boss looked like it was dying, it was actually just entering a more frustrating phase.
This specific "That Guy" variant took that DNA and streamlined it. It’s often less about the wide-reaching references to 8-bit classics and more about the raw, mechanical difficulty of the jumps. You jump. You die. You respawn instantly. You jump again. There is a strange, rhythmic zen to it once the initial rage subsides.
What makes the "That Guy" style different?
A lot of people confuse this with Super Mario Maker "Kaizo" levels. They're related, sure, but the engine is different. The I Want to Be That Guy game usually runs on the Yuuutu or GMS engine, which have very specific physics. The "Kid" has a double jump that feels floaty yet precise. You can tap the button for a tiny hop or hold it for a full leap. Mastering the difference between a 2-frame tap and a 5-frame hold is the only way to survive.
Standard platformers want you to succeed. This game wants to see how much you can take before you uninstall. It's a psychological battle as much as a physical one.
The Mechanics of a Keyboard-Breaker
Let's talk about the "Save" points. In any other game, a save point is a relief. In I Want to Be That Guy game, a save point is a taunt. You’ll find them placed just before a section that looks impossible, or worse, right after a section that was impossible, only for you to realize there’s a hidden spike right on top of the save box.
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The movement is everything.
- The Double Jump: It resets when you touch the ground, obviously. But "That Guy" levels often involve "refreshers" or weird gravity flips that force you to use your second jump at the absolute peak of your first.
- The Hitboxes: Your character is tiny, but the spikes are ruthlessly accurate. If a single pixel of your cape touches a pixel of a cherry, you're toast.
- The "Kid" Physics: Unlike Mario, who has momentum, the Kid stops almost instantly. This allows for mid-air adjustments that would be impossible in other games.
I’ve seen streamers spend six hours on a single room. Six hours. Just jumping over one block and trying to land on a tiny ledge. It sounds like a nightmare, but when they finally land it? The dopamine hit is stronger than anything you’ll get from a "triple-A" game that holds your hand through a tutorial.
Why Do We Actually Play This?
It’s about the community and the "clear."
There is a very real sense of prestige in the fangame community. When you beat a particularly hard version of the I Want to Be That Guy game, you aren’t just finishing a level. You’re joining a group of people who have the same scars. You see it on sites like Delicious Fruit, where thousands of these games are cataloged. Players rate them based on "quality" and "difficulty."
Some are "Marathon" games—long, epic journeys. Others are "Short" or "Boss Rush" styles.
The Misconception of "Unfairness"
Newcomers always say the game is unfair. They’re right, but they’re also wrong. It’s "fair" because the traps are consistent. Once you know the apple falls up, it will always fall up. The game is asking you to memorize a choreography. It’s like learning a dance, but if you trip, you get impaled.
The real skill isn't just reflexes; it's pattern recognition. You start to see the level designer's mind. You think, "If I were a jerk, where would I put a hidden spike?" Then you shoot that spot, and sure enough, a spike appears. You feel smart for outthinking a trap designed to make you feel stupid.
How to Get Started (If You're Brave Enough)
Don't just jump into the hardest version possible. You'll quit in thirty seconds.
First, you need to understand the physics. Most of these games are freeware, made by fans for fans. Look for "I Wanna Be The Guy" clones that are labeled for beginners. Yes, "beginner" in this world still means you'll die a hundred times, but at least the jumps won't require frame-perfect inputs.
- Get a Controller: Some people swear by keyboards, but a D-pad is usually more forgiving for the rapid-fire double jumps.
- Use the "S" Key: Usually, S is your save. Hit it every time you make progress. Every. Single. Time.
- Watch the Pros: Go to Twitch or YouTube and search for "I Wanna Be The Guy" speedruns. You’ll see people moving with a fluidity that looks like magic. They aren’t lucky; they’ve just died 50,000 times more than you have.
The Cultural Impact of the "Guy"
It’s easy to dismiss the I Want to Be That Guy game as a niche torture device, but its influence is everywhere. Look at Celeste. While Celeste is much more polished and narrative-driven, its "B-Sides" and "C-Sides" owe a massive debt to the "I Wanna" fangame community. The idea of instant respawns and hyper-difficult platforming was popularized here.
Even Elden Ring or Dark Souls share a bit of this DNA—the idea that victory is only sweet if the struggle was bitter.
Actionable Steps for New Players
If you’re genuinely looking to dive into this world, stop looking for a "buy" button. These are community projects.
- Find the Hub: Visit the "Delicious Fruit" website. It’s the unofficial archive for thousands of these games. You can filter by difficulty. Start with something rated 1 or 2 before you even think about the "That Guy" level of madness.
- Check Your Specs: These games aren't demanding, but they often run on older engines. If you're on a modern Windows 11 machine, you might need to run them in compatibility mode or use a specific front-end player like "I Wanna Maker" on Steam.
- Join the Discord: The community is surprisingly helpful. If you’re stuck on a screen, someone has probably made a "clear video" showing exactly where to stand.
- Manage Your Temper: Seriously. If you feel the urge to throw your mouse, walk away. The game will be there when you get back. The goal is to beat the designer, not your hardware.
Beating the I Want to Be That Guy game is a marathon, not a sprint. It’s one of the few experiences left in gaming that doesn’t care about your feelings, your time, or your ego. And that’s exactly why people keep coming back to it.
Next Steps for Your Journey:
Download the "I Wanna Maker" tool on Steam to practice basic mechanics in a modern environment. Once you can comfortably clear a mid-tier community level without losing your mind, head over to the fangame archives and look for the classic "That Guy" challenges to test your skills against the community's most infamous layouts.