Split Fiction

There's something wonderfully anachronistic about Hazelight's presence in the games industry. At a time when live service, skill trees, long campaigns, and online multiplayer dominate AAA games, the Stockholm-based developer insists that a bigger budget shouldn't mean a bigger scope, that games are better when you collaborate in the same room, and that quality and variety are more important than months of content.

Granted, Split Fiction is a bigger spectacle than its predecessor It Takes Two, but it's no longer, nor does it have more systems. Instead, Josef Fares and the rest of Hazelight put all their eggs in a different basket, and in the process created one of the most shamelessly entertaining games I've had the pleasure of playing. Ever! And it's even educational in a fun way.

Split Fiction stays close to the formula It Takes Two (and to some extent A Way Out) was so successful with. Dedicated co-op where the collaboration is sometimes complex, with two characters who also have to learn to work together on a narrative level, and a division into thematically distinct chapters. It also feels like a refined version of It Takes Two with its responsive and mildly fluttery controls, and core platforming based on hop-double hop-dash. However, it doesn't really matter. If you ask me, all developers should be allowed to repeat themselves in some areas from time-to-time so they can refine and innovate in others. In Split Fiction, Hazelight does this by presenting a veritable plethora of inventive sequences that often feel excellent too. One moment you're playing with perspectives when one player is top-down and the other side is scrolling - without the use of splitscreen, mind you. The next one manipulates the surroundings so the other can navigate them safely. And on and on it goes. It Takes Two was already among the most varied and inventive games out there, but Split Fiction raises the bar even higher.

It Takes Two was wonderful in most respects, but for me the story still stands as a definite misfire with its four insufferable protagonists. No, nobody gets off scot-free here. Dr. Hakim is the obvious culprit here with his overbearing personality and questionable accent, but the trauma-inducing parents and apathetic daughter are not far behind. The four-character setup ruined an otherwise intriguing premise that had the opportunity to discuss marriage in a way we rarely see in games.

It seems Hazelight also realises the problems the story and characters had, because although the two main characters Mio and Zoe are initially too cynical and naive respectively, it wasn't long before they each grew on me considerably. Their character sheets may not be particularly original, but with fine interactions, solid dialogue, and rather excellent facial animation, Hazelight hits the emotional mark. Thematically and narratively, the story may be less ambitious than It Takes Two, but it is clearly better executed. And with its comic book evil villain, Rader, and its themes of overexploitation of - and standardisation of - creativity, it's a timely story.

Rader in particular is worth dwelling on, because given EA boss Andrew Wilson's recent statements about AI, it's also ironically funny in a rebellious way that Josef Fares and co. serve up a cool, upper-class retrospective of a CEO who on the one hand pretends to speak up for his talents, but in reality just wants to exploit their creativity for cynical profit maximisation and a wet dream of monopoly.

On the surface, however, he's a nice guy who just wants to help aspiring writers get published. That's why two strangers, Zoe and Mio, find themselves in his business. They want - for different reasons - to get their work published. But as we all know, when something sounds too good to be true, it often is. Mio senses the danger first when she sees the beast of a machine she has to plug into to run Rader's impressive (and unannounced) simulation. Anger towards the machine follows and suddenly she finds herself in the same simulation as Zoe with no way out in sight.

What follows is narratively familiar but, as mentioned before, also well executed. The need for cooperation, the value of friendship, and the eternal greed of capitalism are good themes that Hazelight gets right. In this way, the story provides an excellent framework for Split Fiction's absolute trump card: its crazy and wildly varied gameplay.

Mio writes sci-fi, Zoe fantasy. So their joint simulation conveniently switches between the two genres. At first, I found the very classic takes on the two genres a bit generic, and the structure of switching between them from chapter-to-chapter also felt a bit formulaic, but the more I and my equally enthusiastic co-op mate played, the more it all made sense. And it all culminates in a fabulous and completely insane final chapter that ties it all together beautifully. Of course, I won't spoil it here, so let me just say that the way that particular chapter, based on the journey there, uses perspectives and screen-splitting, is a great candidate for game moment of the year. It's cinematic, but entirely in the service of gameplay.

Yes, we're dealing with something as rare as a game that ends on top. However, that doesn't mean that what comes before it is anything less than excellent. Split Fiction's core gameplay, for one, is rock solid. The controls are responsive, the spacing between platforms is good, and the animations are excellent without taking anything away from the game feel. It's the foundation that allows all the antics to work. I've already mentioned some examples, but let me dive deeper into one of my favourite sections: Hazelight's take on the classic Mission: Impossible scene where Ethan Hunt is fired through a laser grid. In this version, Mio has hacked a drone that she can control up or down. Her half of the screen is therefore seen from the side, so height is easy to judge. Zoe, on the other hand, can, by shifting her weight around, steer forwards and backwards, and left and right. Her screen is of course seen from above. The whole sequence is a wonderful exercise in co-operation. Without constant communication and coordination, it's impossible to avoid the lasers, whose movement patterns become harder and harder to avoid the further towards the bottom we move. We simply have to work together to succeed.

In this way, the game is also a reminder that we can do more when we work together and how important and rewarding it is to trust each other. Just to take it to the next level.

On a more mundane level, it's intoxicating entertainment, with my partner and I repeatedly dropping our jaws at the antics of Hazelight. Nowhere is this more evident than in the delightful side stories, which in the 5-15 minutes they last each cover a wide range of settings and genres. There are sappy children's birthday parties with a dentist from hell, the most extreme snowboarding trip I can remember, and the already infamous sequence where we see how a hot dog is made. Most of the 12 side stories ooze creativity and precision. Sometimes it's a new gameplay mechanic being explored, other times it's the setting or graphical style being played with. They're like the short films that always accompanied a new Pixar film: a delicious snack that leaves me wanting more. And I really hope this is a format Hazelight will continue to explore.

The ability to constantly be shamelessly entertaining while teaching us important lessons about community and cooperation is a rather unique quality of Hazelight's games, because (sadly) there aren't many other games that are designed to be played together exclusively in this way. And while both A Way Out and It Takes Two do the same, the combination has never been more striking than here.

I could go on and on praising Split Fiction and pulling out unique moments that will undoubtedly become fond gaming memories in the future, but I don't want to take the joy of discovery away from you readers. Because there really is a lot to discover and fall in love with along the way. We should all be happy that Hazelight exists and thrives in the gaming industry, and I'm crossing my fingers that Split Fiction will be a gigantic success so we can enjoy more great experiences from one of today's most exciting developers. Split Fiction is a co-op masterpiece. It's as simple as that.