Split Fiction Review

Experimentation in any creative field is important, and working outside the confines of your niche can yield unexpected and wonderful results. There’s also a beauty in the pursuit of perfection from iteration, where an unwavering devotion to a singular genre drives the desire to polish an idea down to a smooth finish. For the last ten years, Hazelight Studios has walked the line between these philosophies, ardently committing to a structure that treats cooperation as a requirement, while employing a vast array of unique gameplay experiences for the duo playing its titles to explore. It Takes Two was born from the fusion of these ideals, garnering plaudits from critics and the adoration of many who played through the adventure with a loved one. Hazelight’s latest release, Split Fiction, sees Josef Fares and the team revisit the co-op adventure genre with a stunningly deep pool of experimental creativity that results in a step towards that coveted smooth finish.

Much like Hazelight’s previous games, Split Fiction is a co-op only affair, so whether you’re buddied up on the same couch playing locally, or engaging in some online cooperation, you will need to bring a partner along for this ride. If you are choosing the online route, don’t fret, Split Fiction continues with the Friend’s Pass, letting whoever made the purchase invite someone to join them for free, so you won’t need to jump into your group chat and try to convince your mates to shell out for another game you’re interested in.

Arriving at Radar Publishing with hopes of becoming published authors, Zoe Foster and Mio Hudson, along with a raft of other hopefuls, are talked into being hooked up to an experimental machine that will turn their story concepts into explorable simulations. The last of the wannabe best sellers to be synced with the machine, the mistrusting Mio elects to back out at the last minute, only to be accosted by the designer of the machine, James Radar. The brief scuffle ends with Mio being knocked into Zoe’s bubble, thrusting them into the same simulation.

Whether in Mio’s sci-fi stories or Zoe’s fantasies, the worlds you explore are beautiful 

It’s soon revealed that Mio’s fears were well founded, as Radar’s true motivation (and the purpose of the machine) is to steal ideas from promising writers to turn a profit. Truly a realistic depiction of insatiable corporate greed and the capitalistic indifference to the suffering of the middle class. Anyway, the game.

While the two shared a frosty conversation during an early elevator ride, Mio and Zoe are properly introduced inside the simulation. A bubbly, extroverted optimist, Zoe is a country girl whose literary endeavours are firmly planted in the uplifting fantasy genre, where dragons and trolls frolic in worlds filled with rolling hills. Mio, on the other hand, is a reserved and confrontational city slicker who prefers to write sci-fi novels set in cyberpunk cities where the sun never rises, and the rain never stops.

Diametrically opposed in both attitude and their approach to writing fiction, the two quickly find a common ground: breaking out of the simulation. The pair discover glitches within the machine that appear to fracture the hold it has on them. The only catch is, these glitches can only be found deep within their stories, forcing the duo to work together to see each of their ideas through to fruition. The story’s premise is entertaining, and it’s a clever vehicle to blend two genres together, even if the execution doesn’t always meet the set up.

You hide a rideable vacuum in your game, I’ll find it 

Interacting with the first glitch, Zoe and Mio are pulled into a neon-soaked metropolis, with their basic white jumpsuits transforming into sleek, futuristic armour. The two begin their Matrix-inspired romp in one of Mio’s stories about cybernetic ninjas going on a rampage through the city in a tale of revenge…and parking tickets.

Living through the novels written by the two aspiring writers, gameplay primarily consists of third-person action platforming, complete with double jumps, wall running, mid-air dashes, climbing and sliding. The first of many gameplay wrinkles comes with the unique mechanics that drive each level, often seeing Mio and Zoe handed one of their own. This opening sequence gives the pair some fitting sci-fi ninja weaponry, with Mio wielding a katana and Zoe flicking around an energy whip. Handy for dispatching the robotic enemies, to be sure, but they’re far more than damage dealers.

Influencing every moment of your time in the first level, these weapons provide two completely different approaches to gameplay, with Mio’s blade able to change the direction of gravity and Zoe’s whip able to lift, manipulate and throw objects in the environment. These abilities are frequently used in tandem, and communication will be vital, particularly in situations that call for precise timing. Throughout the course of the level my partner and I took turns assisting each other, whether that be me walking on the ceiling to knock down an object for her, or her picking up a portable toilet (with me inside of it) and flinging it to a distant platform as an unsanitary way to clear the gap.

I’m happy to spoil the first set of skills for the purpose of the review, but that’s as far as I’ll go. What I will tell you, is that each of the six major levels comes with its own core mechanics, often offering each player their own play style and approach to puzzle and platforming. The synergy between the two players’ powers is impeccably implemented, with both feeling as important as the other, and both being equally fun to interact with.

Some wounds never heal

Gameplay variety doesn’t stop with the level’s core mechanic, either. While the foundation of every level is third-person action platforming, an insane number of genre-bending set pieces are woven into the experience at a breakneck pace. Within the space of a few minutes, you’ll go from third-person platforming to top-down twin-stick shooting, to 2D puzzle-platforming, to stealth, to a pinball-inspired section where one of you is the ball. The sheer number of ideas and unique mechanics explored during the 12-hour campaign is staggering, with each of them being extremely polished and well-implemented, whether they appear for 30 minutes or 30 seconds. To say that Split Fiction prioritises variety would criminally underrate how impressive the moment-to-moment experience really is.

Each new level will see you move to the other writer’s work, pulling the duo from Mio’s dystopian world of concrete and steel, directly into the lush greenery of Zoe’s fantasy tale. The frequent switching between the two genres doesn’t just facilitate a change in gameplay, but it provides a nice visual and thematic change as well. Zoe’s levels tend to lean into a more relaxed flow, prioritising puzzles and platforming, where Mio’s missions are high-octane and filled with action. Each level will take roughly an hour to complete, but in the spirit of variety, there are diverging paths that offer a slice of something new.

Each of the worlds you explore is beautifully detailed and visually crisp. Mio’s worlds are shiny and sleek, bathed in multicoloured neon lights, while Zoe’s are far warmer and inviting, with ruins of forgotten civilisations scattered throughout the landscape. The game runs like a dream as well, even during its most chaotic moments. The technical wizardry that Hazelight pulls off in the closing section of the game had my jaw on the floor, wondering just how they manage to bring such insanity to life.

While the game’s performance is rock solid, know that you’ll battle against the camera from time to time, particularly during the handful of bombastic boss fights. You’ve already got limited real estate thanks to the split screen, so this might cause some frustration but, like cooperating with a friend or partner, practice a little patience and you’ll be fine.

I know the housing market is in rough shape, but this is ridiculous 

While exploring, you’ll come across rifts in reality that look out of place, often accompanied by elements that look more at home in the other writer’s genre. These Side Stories act as micro adventures that tend to be even more experimental and strange, transforming Mio and Zoe into flatulent pigs, wingsuit-wielding train robbers, and deadly gameshow contestants. Each of the Side Stories offers a worthwhile diversion from the current task and acts as a brief respite from the main path. Like the core campaign, I won’t be spoiling anything here, but know that these Side Stories get crazy, with one rivalling the shocking elephant scene from It Takes Two, so keep an eye out.

Throughout the game’s story, the performances of Kaja Chan and Elsie Benntt as Mio and Zoe respectively are fantastic. Both actors bring a sincerity to every scene, regardless of the quality of the dialogue. Whether it’s the awkward early interactions that see the tandem’s personalities clash, or the more tender moments where guards are broken and emotional baggage is shared, there’s a palpable chemistry between the two leads that underpins the entire story. As the story comes to a point and some sensitive themes are explored, Kaja and Elsie meet the subject matter with emotionally-charge performances that convey the trauma the two characters have endured.

As talented as the two leads are, the dialogue they’re working with will occasionally slip from endearing to cliché and cringe. I’m lenient in one sense as the demographic is quite wide, with parents likely to play Split Fiction with their kids, but having both of your protagonists as writers comes with a certain expectation of quality. It never derailed my enjoyment, but sitting through Zoe explain to a genuinely surprised Mio that writers often input a part of their own personal experiences into what they write was a challenge.

It’s standard for the genre to shift at least a half dozen times during any given level

While I enjoyed the larger narrative and greatly appreciated the late-game revelations that provided some depth to Zoe and Mio’s motivations, I found it incredibly difficult to connect with, care about, or feel threatened by James Radar, the antagonist. While he crops up periodically throughout the runtime, he does exceptionally little to move away from being a one-note corporate suit villain that only cares about the bottom line on a profit-and-loss sheet. Thankfully there are villains within Mio and Zoe’s stories that add a bit of colour and fun, because Radar could be replaced with a cardboard cutout, and I wouldn’t notice.

Final Thoughts

In a market where competitive online multiplayer titles reign, it’s comforting that Hazelight Studios is committed to creating games that understand how special it is to connect with another person and cooperate to achieve a common goal. It Takes Two proved to the industry that players have an appetite for co-op adventures they can enjoy with their loved ones, and with Split Fiction, Hazelight has taken another step towards perfecting its formula. Incredible voice acting and production values accompany a suite of gameplay systems that borders on the obscene. Fully realised mechanics come and go with an unbelievable pace, gifting the players with a level of variety that just can’t be found anywhere else. If the team continues to iterate in this space, a stronger focus on dialogue and a more compelling villain would further elevate what has emerged as a winning formula.

Reviewed on PS5 // Review code supplied by publisher

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