Back in early 2022, I was just a regular gamer who couldn't stop yapping about how cleverly Hazelight had stitched together heartbreak, divorce, and an anthropomorphic book of love. Fast forward to 2026, and guess what? I'm still yapping. Except now I have a fancier keyboard and a grayer beard, but the facts haven't changed: It Takes Two remains the undisputed GOTY hoarder, and its legacy makes me feel all warm and fuzzy—like a plush Cutie the elephant.

We might be in 2026, but let's rewind the clock a smidge. When Josef Fares and his band of mischievous devs dropped this mandatory co-op marvel in March 2021, nobody saw the tsunami of trophies coming. I mean, sure, the man had already yelled "Fk the Oscars!" to the world, so we knew he had chutzpah. But 82 Game of the Year awards in just a few months? That was a whole new level of flex. According to the GOTY Awards Tracker, It Takes Two left everyone in the dust—Resident Evil Village whimpered in second with 57, Forza Horizon 5 cruised at 51, Deathloop looped into fourth at 35, and Metroid Dread clung on with 34. By the time the DICE Awards rolled around, that 82nd gong landed with a thud, and Hazelight promptly announced 5 million copies sold. All while letting one friend play for free. Smooth move, guys.

Now, flash forward to today. I'm in my gaming den, surrounded by collector's editions and a suspicious number of Funko Pops, and I can confidently tell you that It Takes Two has ballooned to around 110 GOTY awards (give or take a few trophies). No other game from that 2021 class—or even the following years—has managed to dethrone it. Elden Ring came close in 2022 with its "You Died" charm offensive, but even the Lands Between couldn't topple a couple of claymation parents bickering in a shed. A testament, perhaps, to how much we all secretly love yelling at our partners while trying to nail a double jump.

📊 The 2021 GOTY Scoreboard (Updated to 2026)

Numbers are pulled from the GOTY Awards Tracker and my crystal ball shaped like a DualSense.

But here's where the tea gets lukewarm. Remember when in early 2022 everyone and their grandmother started whispering about a movie adaptation? "It Takes Two is getting the Hollywood treatment!" they chirped. I was torn. On one hand, a big‑budget flick about divorcing parents turned into dolls had the potential to be an acid trip of epic proportions. On the other hand, the game's story was, quite frankly, its weakest link. The emotional beats felt like they were written by a sentient Hallmark card, and that book of love, Dr. Hakim, could either be endearing or make you want to chuck your controller out the window—depending on your patience for unsolicited relationship advice from a sentient tome.

Well, it's 2026, and I'm still waiting for a trailer. The last credible rumor I heard was in 2024, suggesting a director had been attached, but then the project vanished into development hell faster than a squirrel on espresso. The community reaction remains a mixed bag: some fans are pleading for a full‑on CGI adventure, while others are lighting candles and praying the movie never happens because they don't want to see a live‑action version of Cutie's demise. I'm just sitting here with my popcorn, hoping that if it ever does crawl out of production purgatory, they at least cast Danny DeVito as the voice of Dr. Hakim. Imagine it. You're welcome.

What's undeniable is that It Takes Two reshaped co‑op gaming. It strutted in with its kaleidoscope of gameplay mechanics—platforming, shooting, snowboarding, fighting a giant wasp with a nail gun—and proved that forced cooperation doesn't have to feel like a chore. It became the "gateway drug" for couples who'd never touched a controller, and in 2026, I still see new players discovering it through Game Pass or deep sales. The 5‑million‑copy milestone has long since been obliterated; unofficial estimates put it closer to 12 million, helped by one‑copy‑per‑household workarounds. Hazelight, meanwhile, hasn't just been resting on its laurels. Their next project, rumored to be even nuttier, is probably keeping Fares busy enough to avoid swearing at any more awards ceremonies.

So here we are, five years later, and the little co‑op that could is still hogging the spotlight. If you'll excuse me, I need to go replay the "Helping Rosa Become a Rockstar" level with my best mate and inevitably get into a heated argument about who messed up the timing on the guitar solos. Old habits, dude. Old habits.