Honestly, playing Hazelight Studios' masterpiece feels like a fever dream that won't end. You're small. You're made of wood or clay. And you’re trapped in a world where your vacuum cleaner wants to murder you because you didn't change its filter for three years. It's weird. It’s colorful. But more than anything, it takes 2 gameplay demands something from you that most modern titles shy away from: genuine, unfiltered cooperation.
Most "co-op" games are basically solo experiences where another person just happens to be shooting in the same direction. Not this one. If your partner stops moving, you stop progressing. Period. Josef Fares, the director who famously went off at the Game Awards, wasn't kidding when he said he’d give anyone $1,000 if they got bored. The game is a relentless machine of new mechanics. Just when you think you’ve mastered the art of being a nail and a hammer, the game throws it away. Now you're a tree-flying pilot or a wizard in a top-down RPG.
It’s chaotic. It’s brilliant. And it’s why the game took Game of the Year in 2021 and still tops the charts on Steam and consoles today.
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The "Never-Repeat" Philosophy of It Takes 2 Gameplay
The core of the experience is variety. Most games find a loop—shoot, loot, repeat—and stick to it for forty hours. Here? The loop is that there is no loop. One minute you’re platforming through a giant cuckoo clock, and the next you’re engaged in a high-stakes fighting game against a squirrel on a moving plane.
This keeps the brain engaged. It also prevents one player from "carrying" the other too hard. If you’re a pro-gamer and your partner has never touched a controller, you’re both going to struggle equally when the gravity starts flipping or you have to coordinate magnet polarities. It levels the playing field in a way that feels fair, albeit frustrating when you’ve died for the tenth time because your partner jumped a second too late.
The sheer volume of mechanics is staggering. You get tools that are specific to a single level.
- The Hammer and Nails: Cody throws nails to create platforms; May swings across them.
- The Magnets: One pulls, one pushes.
- The Sap Gun and Matchbook: Cody coats things in explosive resin; May ignites it.
It’s never just "press X to open door." It’s "Cody, hold the door open while standing on that pressure plate, but watch out for the giant mechanical beetle, while May navigates the electrical wires above." It’s mental gymnastics. It requires a headset or, better yet, a couch.
Why the Mechanics Mirror the Story
The narrative is about Cody and May, a couple on the brink of divorce who get turned into dolls by their daughter’s wish. They are guided by Dr. Hakim, a sentient "Book of Love" that is arguably the most polarizing character in gaming history. Some people find him hilarious; others want to throw him into a woodchipper.
But look at the gameplay. It’s not just random fun. The mechanics actually reflect their relationship hurdles. When they have to work together using magnets, it’s a literal metaphor for attraction and repulsion. When they have to navigate a garden, they’re dealing with the "weeds" of their neglected marriage. It’s heavy-handed, sure, but it works because the gameplay makes you feel the friction. You get mad at each other. You laugh. You apologize.
The Elephant in the Room (Literally)
We have to talk about Cutie the Elephant. If you know, you know. If you don’t, prepare for a moment of gameplay that feels genuinely traumatizing. To progress, the characters decide they need to make their daughter cry. Their logic? If she cries, the tears will break the spell. Their target? Her favorite toy, a sweet, innocent plush elephant.
The gameplay here is brutal because you have to do it. You have to physically drag this screaming toy to its doom. It’s a bold choice by Hazelight. It forces the players to be complicit in the characters' desperation and selfishness. It’s one of the few times in gaming where the "win condition" feels like a moral loss. This is what sets it takes 2 gameplay apart from something like Mario Party. It has teeth. It’s willing to make you uncomfortable to tell its story.
Technical Performance and Accessibility
From a technical standpoint, the game is a marvel of split-screen optimization. Most developers hate split-screen because you’re essentially rendering the game twice. Hazelight embraces it. The screen often shifts—sometimes it's vertical, sometimes horizontal, sometimes it merges into one view during boss fights.
It runs surprisingly well on the Nintendo Switch, though the PS5 and Xbox Series X versions are obviously the way to go if you want those 60 frames per second. The "Friend's Pass" is also a genius move. Only one person needs to own the game for two people to play online. This lowered the barrier to entry significantly and is a huge reason why the game became a viral hit.
Minigames: The Only Time You Get to Fight
Since the main game is purely cooperative, Hazelight scattered 25 minigames throughout the world where you can actually compete. These are essential. They act as a pressure valve. After forty minutes of trying to coordinate a complex platforming sequence, there’s nothing better than a quick round of "Whack-a-Cody" or a snow racing circuit to let out some steam.
These minigames aren't just filler. They’re polished. Some people spend more time playing the volleyball or the chess minigame than the actual levels. They add a layer of replayability that most linear story games lack. You can go back into the chapter select just to beat your partner’s high score in tank warfare.
Complexity and Learning Curves
Don't let the "doll" aesthetic fool you. This isn't a "baby game." Some of the boss fights, like the Moon Baboon or the Mechanical Bull, require genuine reflex and pattern recognition. If you’re playing with someone who isn't a regular gamer, you will be doing some coaching.
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The game is forgiving with checkpoints, though. You don't get a "Game Over" screen that sends you back to the start of the level. Usually, you just respawn a few feet back. This prevents the frustration from boiling over into a real-life argument. Usually.
How to Actually Beat It Without Breaking Up
If you're planning on diving into this, keep a few things in mind. First, communication is more important than skill. You need to talk. Constantly. "Okay, jump on three. One, two, three!"
Second, switch roles if you’re stuck. Sometimes one person’s brain just clicks better with the "aiming" mechanic while the other is better at the "timing" mechanic. The game allows for this at the start of every chapter.
Third, explore. The world is dense with "interactables." You can sit in chairs, play instruments, or put on hats that have nothing to do with the objective. These small moments of "flavor" make the world feel alive and give you a break from the intense coordination.
Actionable Steps for Your Playthrough
- Check Your Hardware: If playing online, ensure both have a stable connection. Since the game relies on precise timing, even a 100ms lag can make the "swinging" sections nightmare-fuel.
- The Friend's Pass: Don't buy two copies. Download the Friend's Pass version on the second console/PC to save $40.
- Session Length: Plan for 10-12 hours of total gameplay. Don't try to marathon it. The mechanics change so fast it can cause mental fatigue. Break it up by chapters.
- Dialogue: If you find the Book of Love annoying, just lean into the cringe. It’s part of the charm.
- Look for Easter Eggs: Keep an eye out for a "F*** the Oscars" reference or the hidden A Way Out dolls. The game is packed with nods to Fares' previous work.
The reality is that it takes 2 gameplay succeeded because it respected the players' time. It never drags. It never asks you to grind. It just asks you to pay attention to the person sitting next to you. In a world of live-service games and endless battle passes, that feels like a radical act.
Grab a second controller. Be patient. Try not to cry during the elephant scene. You'll get through it, and your relationship (or friendship) will probably be stronger for it. Or you'll never speak to each other again. Either way, it’s an experience you won't forget.