

The only real gripe that I can level at It Takes Two is aimed squarely at the character of Dr. The fact that It Takes Two blesses you with infinite lives and extremely generous checkpointing, only makes you more emboldened to experiment. It’s very much the Mario method of cramming as much magical interactivity into every square inch of each play space, and ensures that your every curious action goes rewarded. The carefully lined-up dominoes in the cardboard castle area might well be a static backdrop in any other game, but in It Takes Two you can topple them all over and knock a hapless small soldier into a bottomless pit, because it’s fun.

The giant bass drum kick pedal plays no part in you reaching a level goal, but you can still buttstomp onto it and thump its hammer into a towering drum, because it’s fun. In It Takes Two, they are whirring hoverboards that allow you to surf your way over giant inflatable slides, pulling spectacular midair tricks like a pair of tiny Tony Hawks.Īdditionally, while a lot of the elements in It Takes Two’s environments are there to serve a very clear gameplay purpose, a substantial amount of objects are interactive for no other reason than because they’re fun. In real life, my children’s fidget spinners seem like pointless trinkets, the forgotten remnants of a passing fad now cluttering up shelf space. It Takes Two also has the ability to effortlessly make mirth out of the mundane. The only catch to the split ability set is that there are occasionally moments where the enjoyment level is lopsided, where one character is pinballed around an area while the other can only watch, but it all evens out in the end and – if anything – it makes me want to replay it with swapped characters, just to see how the other half lived. These gizmos and abilities each deftly double as platform puzzle-solving tools and boss-fighting aids: May’s clone ability allows her to teleport from one weighted switch to another to trigger timed mechanisms, but it also enables her to lure a charging bull boss towards an obstacle before beaming herself out of harm’s way at the last second. It Takes Two is like a box of donuts in your office breakroom: it arrives fresh, is gleefully devoured, and absolutely nothing included in it stays long enough to grow stale.Early on, Cody might have a bandolier of nails that he can throw into walls to plot a path of rungs for May to swing between with her claw hammer, while later May can use her water gun to soak fertile soil to allow Cody to plant himself and bloom into a winding flower with petals for platforms. But it’s the complimentary, character-specific abilities that are refreshed in each chapter that compelled me and my partner to work as a team and make It Takes Two a special style of platformer, turning seemingly simple ascents up the side of a cliff face into carefully choreographed back-and-forths and coordinated chants of “3-2-1-Go!” The platforming essentials are on point, with May and Cody’s jump, double-jump, and air-dash abilities being supremely responsive and allowing for effortless levels of platforming precision. Importantly, every action feels fantastic to perform. It Takes Two is like a box of donuts in your office breakroom: it arrives fresh, is gleefully devoured, and absolutely nothing included in it stays long enough to grow stale. It just shifts seamlessly from one brilliantly bonkers style of gameplay to another, each with its own fresh set of mechanics, and almost none of it is ever recycled at any point. Before you know it they’ll be hopping along the tumbling crystalised interior of a kaleidoscope, and just when you think it must be out of ideas Cody will be piloting a tiny plane through the treetops while May squares off in a Street Fighter-style showdown with a member of the local squirrel militia on its wings. One moment Cody and May are collaboratively steering a giant pencil around a connect-the-dots picture, the next they’re casting spells and swinging swords as a wizard and barbarian in an isometric dungeon crawl.
