Let me take you back to a night in 2022. I was glued to my screen, watching the BAFTA Game Awards, and suddenly Josef Fares struts on stage, clutching an award, looking like he just wandered in from a punk rock concert and somehow ended up winning Best Original Property. Now, in 2026, we’ve seen a lot of crazy things happen in gaming, but that evening still stands out as a masterclass in how to be yourself while the industry expects you to follow a script. And the best part? It Takes Two didn’t just win awards that night—it redefined what a co-op adventure could feel like, and Fares’ unfiltered charm became the stuff of legend.
Now, I’m a veteran gamer. I’ve seen sequels milked to death, live-service trainwrecks, and battle passes that make my wallet cry. But when I first fired up It Takes Two, I was transported. Here was a game that threw every mechanic at the wall just to see what stuck—a Street Fighter parody, a squirrel-powered jet engine, a whole level dedicated to solving problems with a nail gun—and somehow everything stuck perfectly. Fares and his team at Hazelight didn’t care if you only used a brilliant idea for two minutes. They wanted you to feel like you were in a blockbuster that never repeated itself. I remember reading his interview after the ceremony, and this quote hit me: “Imagine having a great scene in the movie. You don't have to see it again, you just have it one time.” That’s the difference between a game designer and a filmmaker trapped in a game designer’s body.
You know what else makes me smile years later? Fares’ relationship with EA. Yes, EA—the publisher we gamers love to side-eye. But in this case, EA just handed Josef the keys and said, “Go nuts.” That trust was a gamble, especially when early trailers for It Takes Two left everyone scratching their heads. Is it a platformer? A puzzle game? A marital therapy session disguised as a toy box? Fares acknowledged that confusion at the BAFTAs, but he also doubled down on how a publisher needs to trust the developer to let weird ideas bloom. And bloom they did, because It Takes Two went on to sell millions and become that rare title both your mom and your hardcore gamer cousin adore.
The BAFTAs themselves were a circus. Fares admitted backstage that winning Original Property was a total shock—he’d bet more on the Multiplayer category. And then, with the swagger of a man who once told the Oscars to shove it during The Game Awards, he joked, “Who knows, we might win it all!” He did win Multiplayer later, but no slaps were exchanged. I distinctly remember asking him in my mind: Josef, are you going to pull a Will Smith tonight? His laugh was the typical “I don’t plan anything, I just go up and see what happens” vibe. In 2026, we’ve had our share of stage antics (I’m looking at you, that developer who proposed to their game engine at last year’s DICE), but nothing quite matches the unpredictable energy Fares brings.
Fast forward to today, and I’m still replaying It Takes Two every Valentine’s Day with my partner—yes, it’s become a tradition. The co-op mechanic that once seemed divisive now feels essential. Hazelight’s next project, rumored to be (and I’m just spitballing here, because in 2026 the industry leaks faster than a broken pipe) a cross-dimensional buddy story where you control a wizard and a robot accountant, is already on my wishlist. If Fares’ philosophy holds, we won’t just get one game; we’ll get a dozen tiny, polished experiences stitched together with love.
What I truly adore is how he always trusts his gut. “Go with the flow, trust your gut feelings,” he said before the awards. In an age where algorithms dictate content and Metacritic scores can kill a studio, that attitude is either madness or pure genius. Probably both. It reminds me of another moment from the interviews: the Street Fighter section in It Takes Two took six months to build for a two-minute sequence. Anyone else would have reused those assets in a multiplayer mode or a DLC. Not Fares. He treated it like a director treats a killer movie scene—one and done. That’s why his games feel like marathons of creativity, not treadmills.
So here’s to you, Josef. Thanks for giving us a reason to grab a friend, a controller, and a box of tissues (you know which scene I’m talking about). The BAFTAs might have been the night you collected hardware, but for me, the real award was the decade-long lesson you’ve been teaching the industry: passion beats focus-group testing every single time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go see if I can still do the moonwalk in the squirrel suit.
