Split Fiction

The studio was straight up just showing off at this point, and I’m kinda mad I’ll never experience it for the first time again. That’s the kind of feeling you can’t scrap from a creative person’s brain and sell as slop. Split Fiction is a culmination of the design ideas the studio has been working with since A Way Out, and it kinda feels like Hazelight threw everything it had at a wall, and it all stuck. It’s a tribute to several video games and to genre fiction, but also to the creative process itself. Fares may think people and AI should co-exist in creative fields, but when you’re already making games this inventive, do they have to? I don’t think so.

Split Fiction doesn’t settle for being just a tongue-in-cheek comedic callout on the dire state of the games industry. The game’s story also injects hope by emphasizing the importance of the talented individuals behind games as the true magic that makes Split Fiction’s medley of genre-spanning levels enjoyable — not the big-name corporations attached to them. Creating a thrilling co-op game that pushes the genre forward, tests the strength of players’ friendships, and advocates for game developers is truly next-level stuff.

At the end of the day, my fiance and I both enjoyed our time with Split Fiction. While it definitely has some narrative issues and the pacing can be a bit uneven, it’s still a great time for two players who want to experience a fully fleshed-out co-op adventure. Its highs are arguably higher than It Takes Two thanks to its numerous setpieces, and outside of a few puzzles that made us a wee bit angry, our relationship is stronger for it.

We loved Split Fiction because, along with its predecessor It Takes Two, it’s the only modern game my husband and I can play together that doesn’t leave us wanting to kill each other. The gameplay was simple but required a level of cooperation that was deeply satisfying to pull off. It’s a cotton-candy ass game, and I won’t be able to tell you a specific thing about it in a week other than it’s fun, but that’s fine. We like cotton candy because it tastes good, not because eating it is a particularly memorable experience.