Some video game moments live forever in the collective memory of players: a shocking plot twist, a perfectly tuned boss fight, a final farewell between beloved characters. And then there are the moments that live forever simply because they are too ridiculous, too joyful, and too oddly hypnotic to forget. For Hazelight Studios, one such moment arrives in the form of a nine-second clip of a man enthusiastically rotating his hips in a motion capture suit. That man is Josef Fares, the director of It Takes Two, and those hips belong to Dr. Hakim, the game's famously theatrical Book of Love. 💃

Even in 2026, more than half a decade after the game first launched, that brief snippet still resurfaces across social media, reminding players of the sheer personality that pulses through every corner of the co-op adventure.

A Director Who Refuses to Sit Still

Fares has never been a filmmaker or game director content to hide behind a monitor. He wrote It Takes Two, he directed it, and he also climbed into a motion capture suit to perform as one of its most memorable characters. When the clip surfaced, viewers were treated to a rapid-fire sequence of hip gyrations, expressive posturing, and the unmistakable sense that the man performing them was having the time of his life.

It was not a polished marketing trailer. It was not a carefully scripted developer diary. It was, quite simply, a director goofing around in a mocap volume — and somehow that made it more effective than any promotional campaign could have been. Followers of Fares reacted with delight, and even the game's publisher joined the fun by responding with a looping animation of Dr. Hakim's signature sway.

Why does a throwaway clip resonate so strongly? Perhaps because it captures something that players instinctively recognize: genuine enthusiasm. In an industry frequently criticized for cynical, focus-tested productions, watching a creator gleefully wiggle his hips in service of a talking book feels refreshingly human.

Meet Dr. Hakim, the Most Unusual Therapist in Gaming

The character behind those legendary hips is far more than a comic gimmick. It Takes Two follows Cody and May, a married couple on the verge of separation, whose daughter Rose inadvertently transforms them into two handmade dolls. To return to their human bodies, the pair must navigate a series of wildly inventive challenges designed to force them to cooperate.

Overseeing this bizarre rehabilitation is Dr. Hakim, a walking, talking hardback volume known as the Book of Love. He is not a calm, measured counselor. He strums guitars, delivers impassioned soliloquies, and sways his hips with a confidence that borders on alarming. In other words, he is exactly the kind of character who could only have been brought to life by someone willing to throw himself fully into the performance.

That willingness paid off. Dr. Hakim became one of the game's most quoted and most imitated figures, a mascot of sorts for a title built entirely around two players working in tandem.

From a Nine-Second Clip to a Lasting Legacy

At launch, It Takes Two was a gamble. A strictly cooperative game with no single-player option was considered commercially risky, yet it surpassed one million sales within its first month and never truly slowed down. Since then, the numbers have grown dramatically.

Hazelight did not rest on that success. The studio later returned with another co-op experience, Split Fiction, which introduced a new generation of players to Fares' unmistakable creative voice. Yet It Takes Two remains the emotional anchor of the studio's catalog — the game that proved a cooperative-only design could stand shoulder to shoulder with the biggest blockbusters of its era.

Why Players Still Talk About It

Nostalgia alone does not explain the clip's staying power. What keeps it circulating is the way it symbolizes everything the game does well:

• Unapologetic personality — nothing about Dr. Hakim feels safe or generic.

• Collaboration at its core — even the mocap performance was a hands-on, physical act of creation.

• Joy as a design principle — the game wants players to laugh, argue, and ultimately bond.

Isn't that precisely what great cooperative games are supposed to do? They force two people to communicate, to compromise, and to celebrate small victories together. Few titles have achieved that as gracefully as this one.

So when a short clip of a middle-aged director thrusting his hips in a mocap suit reappears on a timeline in 2026, it is worth pausing for a second. It is a reminder that behind every polished release stands a group of imperfect, passionate people willing to look a little silly for the sake of their art. And if a few extra players decided to pick up the game simply because those hips made them smile, then honestly, who could blame them? 🎮