Baby Steps – A Pathetic, Painful, and Profound Masterpiece

There are games that test your reflexes, games that test your mind, and games that test your patience. And then, there are games from Bennett Foddy. The name itself has become a genre, a warning label for experiences that are less “played” and more “endured.” They are deliberately punishing, mechanically obtuse, and designed to break you. Getting Over It was a generation-defining exercise in frustration. So when Baby Steps—a collaboration between Foddy, Gabe Cuzzillo (Ape Out), and Maxi Boch—was announced, the world braced for another “streamer-bait” rage game.

And we got one. But we also got something else entirely.

Baby Steps is, on its surface, a joke. You play as Nate, the dictionary definition of a “failson.” He’s an unemployed, anime-watching, 35-year-old man-child living in his parents’ basement. One day, he’s magically transported to a mysterious, misty mountain and discovers a new power: the ability to put one foot in front of the other. This is not hyperbole. This is a literal walking simulator where you control every single agonizing step.

It’s a game that looks pathetic, feels painful, and is, against all odds, one of the most profound and hilarious experiences of the year.

The Agony and Ecstasy of Ambulation

Let’s be clear: you will feel like an idiot for the first hour of Baby Steps. The controls are a masterpiece of intentional cumbersomeness. You manually lift and plant Nate’s left and right foot, balancing his wobbly, top-heavy body against the physics of the world. You will not just walk; you will stumble, stagger, trip, slide, and collapse in a heap. You will slip on a small patch of mud and ragdoll 500 feet down the mountain. The game’s “fully dynamic onesie soilage system” is not just a gag—it’s a very real, very brown badge of your repeated failures.

But then, something magical happens. You find a rhythm. The awkward staggering becomes a deliberate stride. The panic-mashing of legs becomes a controlled, zen-like hike. You realize you can take long, powerful steps or quick, shuffling ones to climb a steep dune. The game’s physics, while punishing, are consistent. As one player put it, Foddy and co. had the restraint to avoid the cheap “gotcha” moments of other hard games. There are no traps, no hidden spikes. There is only the mountain, and your ability to walk up it. The “manbreaker” rock isn’t a trick; it’s just a rock. And you, the player, can become the “man-unbroken.”

A Mountain of Metaphors (And So Much Mud)

What truly elevates Baby Steps from its 2D predecessor is the introduction of an open world. This isn’t just a linear tower; it’s a mountain-sized mountain that you can explore. This simple design choice is revolutionary for the Foddian genre. You can see a terrifying, optional challenge in the distance and choose to walk over and climb it. Or, you can find another, safer way around.

This freedom makes the game feel personal. As one player described it, “this game is my Elden Ring.” They spent 30 minutes trying to knock a lost hat down from an impossible ledge, not because the game told them to, but because they wanted to. You are not just at the mercy of the game’s path; you are at the mercy of your own hubris. You’ll fall into a hole just to see if you can climb out. The world is a sprawling, physical sandbox of self-imposed challenges, and losing an hour of progress often doesn’t feel crushing because you’ll simply discover a new route or a hidden cutscene on your way back up.

Falling for the Failson

The true genius of Baby Steps is its story. Nate is, by all accounts, a terrible person. He’s a “fat incel” who gets high and watches anime. The game constantly plays his pathetic nature for laughs, and you will spend the first few hours screaming, “Nate, get the **** up!” But as you climb, the game’s narrative—and your relationship with Nate—deepens.

The jokes are punctuated by moments of genuine, cutting self-loathing that hit shockingly close to home. The comedic timing is impeccable, but the underlying message is what sticks with you. Nate constantly makes things harder for himself. He refuses a map. He turns down help at every opportunity, perhaps out of awkwardness or a feeling that he doesn’t deserve it. The game’s entire premise is a metaphor. You, the player, are struggling with the controls, and Nate is struggling with… well, everything.

The story is the reward for the rage. It’s the treat you get for persevering. And by the end, you’re not just climbing to beat the game; you’re climbing because you genuinely want to see this pathetic loser get one single win. You stop yelling at him and start feeling for him.

A Symphony of Stumbles

The world of Baby Steps is brought to life by a dynamic soundtrack featuring 420 (nice) beats and vibes. The music swells and fades, adapts to your progress, and perfectly complements the zen-like state of a successful climb or the chaotic percussion of a 30-second tumble. The sound design is a character in itself, from the hilarious, perfectly-timed dialogue to the splat of the onesie soilage to the echoing cry of “MOOOOOSE.” It all combines to create an atmosphere that is simultaneously serene and stressful.

The Physics of Contradiction

The game is not without its stumbles. Where Getting Over It was a game of 2D mouse precision, Baby Steps is a 3D physics simulation. This means you are far more at the mercy of the engine. Your worst falls won’t always feel like your fault; they’ll happen because Nate’s ankle clipped a pixel, causing him to randomly collapse and launch himself off a cliff.

But the game’s more philosophical flaw lies in its side quests. The game’s core message is “get back up,” “try again,” “persevere.” Yet, several side quests—like delivering a fragile vase or a skittish baby trophy—are “gone forever” if you fall once. These quests directly contradict the game’s beautiful thesis, punishing a single mistake with permanent failure in a world that is otherwise all about recovery. It’s a baffling design choice in an otherwise masterfully crafted experience.

A Journey Worth Every Agonizing Step

Baby Steps is a paradox. It’s an irrationally punishing streamer-bait game that is also a tender, heartfelt, and hilarious narrative adventure. It’s a game about a man-child learning to walk that teaches you profound lessons about perseverance, hubris, and the courage to ask for help.

It is absolutely not for everyone. Many will (and should) bounce off its intentionally frustrating controls. But for those who have the patience, for those who are willing to “eat their own worms” and push through the pain, Baby Steps is a near-perfect successor to Getting Over It. It’s a game that will make you fall, make you rage, and ultimately, make you feel. You don’t just finish Baby Steps—you overcome it. And you’ll be tempted to jump right back in, just to explore a little more.

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Pros:

• A brilliant, nuanced, and surprisingly deep physics-based movement system.
• This is hilarious writing and a profoundly moving story about self-loathing and growth.
• Innovative “open-world Foddian” design encourages exploration and player-driven challenges.
• Evolves from pure “rage game” into an “oddly zen” and rewarding experience.
• Fantastic dynamic soundtrack and perfect comedic timing.

Cons:

• The 3D physics can feel random and less “fair” than its 2D predecessors.
• Some side quests contradict the game’s core message by permanently punishing failure.
• The barrier to entry is a vertical cliff of pure, intentional frustration.