It Takes Two

Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots was probably the first game to make me weep.

The microwave tunnel. Forcing Snake’s ancient body through a deadly claustrophobic space by mashing the triangle button… it was like sending an old friend to die. But that wasn’t the only thing going on. Split horizontally across the centerof the screen, Snake’s struggle–the gameplay–was all happening at the bottom. At the top, a dramatic Kojima cutscene was taking place, rotating familiar faces in moments of desperation to truly hammer down the gravity of what was transpiring.

Whether it was having to physically force a beloved character into a moment of anguish, the swelling emotions, the finality of the game, or a combination of a dozen other elements, tears welled in my eyes. I legitimately can’t think of a game before Metal Gear Solid 4 that stirred those feelings in me.

Maybe Shadow of the Colossus. But I think that one just made me feel like a dick.

I digress.

It Takes Two has little in common with Metal Gear Solid 4. Director Josef Fares is certainly making a name for himself as a creative force much like Kojima if, perhaps, a touch more aggressively. The co-op romantic comedy shares virtually no similarities to cinematic tactical espionage action–though It Takes Two has stealth! But reflecting on that emotional scene, I can’t help but notice nearly identical threads.

The action in It Takes Two is split into two sections, vertically in this case. There is emotional payoff after mashing the triangle button. There is a weighted feeling to players’ actions as they attempt to solve a dire situation. Plus, it made me cry. Multiple times.

Romantic comedies can be atrocious. They are a minefield of sappy, unearned emotions with humor dribbled in to make the characters have a modicum of redeemable qualities. The Prince and Me–a “romantic comedy”–is one of my most hated films of all time. It’s one of those Friday night date movies I saw in high school where the two main leads navigate forced problems all in the hopes of falling in like, being uprooted with a nonsense quandary, and then actually fall in love, actually. The humor was painful, groan-inducing schlock.

It Takes Two is a romantic comedy that manages to remain human, despite its two leads spending most of their time as dolls. There are jokes that feel earned, budding romance, drama, and genuine emotion in the writing. Bizarre moments of dark comedy that made me uncomfortable would be punctuated with absurd situations that would force out a laugh. Anger or frustration at a character’s ineptitude would be replaced by compassion after digging closer to their emotional core.

Though it may be marketed as a game with a story steeped in romance and comedy, It Takes Two is so much more. At its heart, the game is about family and rebuilding what has been broken. And watching those broken pieces come together is a joy.

Cody and May are getting a divorce. They can’t stop bickering. The spark is gone. Their passion for each other and their individual interests has fizzled. And their daughter Rose isn’t enough to convince them to work out their problems. Divorce is not an uncommon solution these days and Cody and May feel like the perfect fit for the drastic process. But Rose has hope.

After being told by her parents of their intention to separate, Rose handles the situation quite calmly. The thing is, she has a trick up her sleeve: “The Book of Love” by Dr. Hakim. Rose’s demeanor changes as she retreats to her parents’ tool shed and begins to cry, dropping tears on two dolls she made to look like her parents. Kicking into the fantastical, Cody and May fall asleep and awake as Rose’s dolls. “The Book of Love” has been transformed into a manifestation of Dr. Hakim… who speaks with a heavy Hispanic accent and flails around with his paper arms and legs.

Thus begins the ultimate tale of CO-LLA-BO-RA-TION!

Dr. Hakim informs the disastrous duo that he has answered Rose’s cries for help and that the only way for Cody and May to return to their human forms is to fix their relationship. Cody and May spend a large chunk of It Takes Two‘s opening chapters completely stupefied at what has happened to them. While they initially accept their toy-like fates–after a good bout of screaming, of course–the couple refuses to consider Dr. Hakim’s request.

Games trying to be funny often fail. There are few narratives solely built around comedy that actually land most of the jokes or maintain solid humor. It Takes Two succeeds as a comedy primarily because of its bizarre premise. Like Cody and May, players simply accept that these two characters have become the size of a child’s toy. Everything else around them has completely transformed into a hodgepodge of fairy tale wonderment and household anthropomorphizations. Players can’t help but laugh at two people bickering about their relationship failures while surrounded by squirrels at war with wasps. A tense moment may be broken with Dr. Hakim appearing out of nowhere and shouting at Cody and May with his ridiculous accent on how they need to work together better.

It Takes Two is consistently lighthearted, knowing that players don’t want to sit through an emotional slog where two adults air out their dirty laundry. Gameplay scenarios unfold from their individual shortcomings but often take a backseat until a cutscene. The opening area of the tool shed serves as a place where Cody and May nag at each other for not properly taking responsibility for the upkeep of their home. One of the bosses of the area is a vacuum cleaner who is furious with the pair because Cody broke it by sucking up too much trash and May bought a new vacuum rather than fixing the old one.

On the surface, these events are wildly entertaining because they baffle our “protagonists” who we are initially not supposed to like but also are so absolutely weird that they can’t help but put a smile on the face. But It Takes Two would be a lesser game if it simply rode this momentum throughout.

Cody and May’s deteriorating love is an honest human journey. The writers at Hazelight crafted a pair that is easy to yell at. Cody and May always take shots at each other, rarely giving the other credit and trying to place blame on the other. Players will likely root for them to get a divorce through the bulk of the game because they simply don’t get why they are dysfunctional. Yet It Takes Two is written in a way that frequently peels back the layers of this husband and wife, often too subtle to realize.

It Takes Two is not just a game about funny situations or goofy slapstick. It’s a game about relationships.

If you and a significant other have the opportunity, play It Takes Two. It’s kind of incredible what you may realize about yourself, your partner, and your relationship as a whole.

For a divorcing couple turned into a pair of dolls, Cody and May are strikingly real. Their grievances with each other are petty and dumb–perfectly normal issues perfectly normal people have with each other. Neither one of them can accept the proper amount of blame nor take a breath and forgive each other. Cody may appear as the care-free, funny guy who is his daughter’s best friend but he’s actually kind of a buffoon; a bit clueless and sheepish when it comes to confronting real problems. May is the obvious breadwinner and extremely intelligent, yet appears domineering and cold towards Cody, often making her job a priority over her home life.

Relationships fail all the time, this one is no different. But what It Takes Two communicates very early on is that it isn’t too late for Cody and May. The reason? They just need to talk to each other better and work together. On the edges of their constant bickering are solvable problems, they’ve just let the ill will fester for too long.

What the writing may make players realize is that their own “flaws” are actually patterns or problems that can be corrected with the right amount of care. It Takes Two invoked a lot of self-reflection in me, especially in the way I communicate. I understand that a deep, meaningful relationship is not always easy to maintain just on love alone. Often you have to work on yourself and recognize your shortcomings. Most of us who have struggled in this arena will recognize a little bit of Cody and May in ourselves.

It’s a testament to how well the writers were able to tackle the serious side of the game. There are countless opportunities to laugh but there are a number of times where that pensive self-reflection will rear its head. Hazelight intelligently inserts the drama at key moments to bring It Takes Two back down to earth. Cody and May are forced to put a microscope on their problems and how it affects their lives and the life of their daughter. Whenever I saw Rose, I knew that I was in for an emotional gut punch. The sorrow present in the young girl made my heart truly ache. Coupled with some exceptional voice acting, the family’s tumultuous life always feel earned. Hell, even Dr. Hakim is pretty damn lovable.

It Takes Two also accomplishes a rare feat in gaming: bridging the gap between gameplay and narrative. As a devoted fan of the Uncharted series, I’m familiar with the concept of ludonarrative dissonance. The term irks me even though I get it. Sometimes gameplay bends under the weight of a narrative, I just choose not to let it bother me as intensely as it may others. That being said, the marriage of the action on screen in conjunction with the progress of Cody and May’s relationship is quite remarkable.

Like Hazelight’s previous game, A Way Out, two players are required for It Takes Two. One player controls Cody while the other controls May. The left side of the screen’s real estate is taken up by May with Cody on the right side (and unfortunately I found nowhere to change this orientation, which could be problematic if you’re playing couch co-op). Two players, two characters, and one marriage on the line.

Cooperation is forced onto players from the start. There are very few puzzles and challenges in the game that can be solved without the full efforts of a second player. But where A Way Out was grounded in reality, It Takes Two is not bound by similar rules. There is an abundance of new and exciting opportunities from chapter to chapter, with mechanics often changing multiple times throughout. Since it is a platformer at heart, It Takes Two is governed by a small set of rules. Each player can double jump, sprint, dash in mid-air to gain a bit more distance, grip on walls, and wall jump. This toolkit is, for the most part, great. Moments will pop up where jumps don’t feel as solid as they should or the friction between the couple’s feet and the ground don’t work. Sometimes the camera would slightly betray a safe landing or a mid-air dash fell short.

Basic platforming is perhaps the blandest part of It Takes Two and that’s coming from a game that tends to even throw the kitchen sink at players. As Cody and May work their way from the tool shed to the outside to their daughter’s room to the attic, new toys are granted to them. In one scenario Cody is given nails that can stick into wood while May has a hammer that can latch onto the nails and swing from it. Cody may be required to nail down moving platforms to give May safe passage or May has to bash levers that raise up a shelf that Cody quickly has to nail down to prevent it from falling. When fighting against killer wasps, Cody has a sap gun that coats wasps and blockades in sticky, explosive sap. May has a gun that shoots flaming matches at said explosive sap to make it go boom.

Frequently players will see either May or Cody using tools that feel absurd but work within the context of the story. If the couple acquires something new, you better believe that there is a “rational” explanation for its existence and how it incorporates into fixing the marriage. And these tools are so much fun to play with. It’s genuinely shocking how creative Hazelight is at designing cooperative puzzles built around two harmonizing mechanics. Whether it be a small-scale, intimate moment that simply requires opening a door or triggering an event or a grand chase scene, It Takes Two is overflowing with intelligent fun.

The amount of times I openly remarked about how smart a puzzle was or how awesome a large setpiece event was is too frequent to count. I mean, there’s a part where the game becomes an isometric dungeon crawler! Yet that still doesn’t touch on how great it feels and how crucial it is to truly nail the communication with your co-op partner.

I played It Takes Two from start to finish with my girlfriend. She would like to say that she isn’t good at many games and that I make difficult sections look easy. To be fair, I’ve played a countless number of games for the past 30 years and I actually think she doesn’t give herself enough credit. Nearly every night for about two weeks we sat down and played It Takes Two for up to a couple hours. In total I would say we spent about 15 hours with the game, died about a hundred times, got frustrated a few dozen times, sat back in horror multiple times, and got into an argument at least once. It was some of the best fun I’ve had with a game in a long time.

My girlfriend played as May while I begrudgingly took control of Cody. I would be lying if I didn’t see parts of myself in each character. But It Takes Two also gave me the opportunity to share one of my life’s greatest passions with my girlfriend while also working on my communication–one of my biggest problems. You see, I’m the kind of gamer that may watch a stream or another person playing a game and see an obvious collectible or item or something that was missed by the player. In Destiny, I was the go-to person for finding things like spinmetal and helium filaments from a distance. I guess my brain is just wired to pick up on those details nearly immediately while letting important, real life things pass me by. When we play games together, I don’t like to be a backseat gamer to my girlfriend but I also do a bad job at explaining things or generally trying to be of assistance. The words coming out of my mouth usually don’t match the words percolating in my brain.

When playing It Takes Two, things that felt obvious to me or even things I thought were obvious may not have been to her. Often I would attempt a jump without informing her of my intentions, or I would get frazzled at being the cause of her digital death and forget to speak. I wasn’t listening to Dr. Hakim, forgetting the importance of collaboration. After realizing that speaking up didn’t mean speaking down to her, my girlfriend and I began to harmonize better. It Takes Two is not a hard game. There are some parts where both players may get temporarily stumped or an oddly difficult spike rears its head–which can be exacerbated by unkind checkpoints–but it is forgiving. Both players will need some platforming accuracy and nail tricky timing but encouragement can go a long way to quell frustration. Additionally, being able to see the other player’s view helps diagnose any issues they might be having or give each other the chance to understand how Cody and May’s actions are affecting the play space.

The tangible bond between Cody and May becomes a gameplay hook. The pair rely on each other more and more, as will the two co-op players. Players will work side by side, in separate rooms, or on a unified screen when the opportunity arises. Optional minigames are strewn about levels, letting players compete rather than collaborate. Races, whack-a-mole, target practice, and a number of other distractions can be discovered and later accessed from a menu at any time, providing another level of fun and new opportunities to expand the concept.

Honestly, I can’t imagine playing It Takes Two with anyone other than a very close friend or partner. So many moments in the game shine brighter with that emotional proximity. That moment of horror I was talking about? Well, me and my girlfriend are both fans of dark humor and bleak entertainment. But nothing could prepare us for watching Cody and May drag their daughter’s favorite toy–a stuffed elephant named Cutie–to its destruction in an attempt to make their daughter cry. Oh yeah, the parents of the year deduct that they need Rose’s tears to bring them back to their human forms. In an agonizing moment, we were forced to mash the triangle button so Cody and May could drag the struggling and pleading toy with the sweetest voice as it got snagged on a needle and had a limb ripped off. We were both horrified… yet it was also funny?

I would say that It Takes Two could have a problem with tone but the scene actually works in a weird way. In fact, nearly every part of the game’s story works. That gameplay/narrative homogenization seeps into each fiber of the game. As Dr. Hakim throws more and more at Cody, May, and the players, that sense of understanding and companionship grows stronger. Each gameplay sequence acting as a small piece of couples therapy.

Hazelight’s foray into the fantastical also gives it the opportunity to stretch its visual palette in remarkable ways. The bombastic, darker nature of A Way Out is replaced by a world brimming with color. Everyday objects and scenery become a playground of immense depth. There is a definite passion at the studio for creating big moments that involve chases, explosions, and slowed time. But in It Takes Two, these sections aren’t betrayed by the confines of having to be believable or at least within the realm of possibility. To be honest, some of the work here could fit right in with Pixar and no one would be the wiser.

Before I wrap up this review, I wanted to do something a bit different. Writing reviews can be a daunting task, especially for a game you enjoyed so much and can talk about at length. It Takes Two frequently surprised me. More so, I was touched by how human it felt and how closer it brought me to my partner. We worked together to overcome every obstacle Hazelight threw at us while solving a few problems of our own along the way. Because of that, I thought it would be equally appropriate to bring my girlfriend, Carrie, into this review and let her have a few words on it, from a perspective that isn’t my own.

Without further ado, here’s what Carrie has to say on It Takes Two:

As someone who does not regularly share their opinions on games publicly, I think it is worth noting the down-to-earth message It Takes Two portrays. If there are communication issues between players in this co-op game, you will feel it. Certain aspects of the game literally cannot be completed unless the two characters share their strengths. One character can climb while the other can alter time, making it important to use each of their skills to progress. It Takes Two shows a delightful balance between critical thinking, competition, and creative gameplay. My favorite part of the experience–aside from playing a fun game with my partner–was the lengths the game went to exploring aspects like music, love, insecurities, art, and nature up close.

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And there you have it. Concise and to the point, something I frequently struggle with. That scenario she described involving altering time? That was tough. I had to move time forward and reverse it while Carrie wall-jumped up a lengthy platform. Changing time would move one wall further away, making it harder to jump on. We had to be nearly in sync with her jumps and my time changing. We both learned the importance of counting to three because of the game. Carrie and I have discussed picking the game back up at a later date and switching roles, maybe then our couch configuration won’t have us looking diagonally at the television.

I was infinitely happy to share my experience of It Takes Two with someone I love. And hopefully that translated here. It was a game that I felt a strong, emotional bond with. Repairing Cody and May’s love was almost like fixing a part of myself. My eyes might have leaked a bit but it’s a testament to the power of a game. Did Kojima set out to make me emotional when Snake felt like he was about to die? Maybe. But that’s just the power of games sometimes. You make connections, memories. They might seem wild or bizarre or overly fan-servicey but they will stick with you.

It Takes Two has so much to give for players seeking a deeper connection or just an enjoyable, varied game. When Cody and May’s journey reaches its emotional crescendo, there shouldn’t be a dry eye on the couch. Tucked beneath a hilarious script is a beating heart of human connection, one that is easily shared between the players and their digital counterparts. Few games are able to successfully bridge the gulf between narrative and gameplay like this. It Takes Two is a brilliant fusion of creativity, placing itself at the front of the best games of 2021. More importantly, however, it’s an experience that may teach you and your co-op partner a lot about yourselves, bringing you closer than ever before.