Baby Steps' 28-Minute Cutscene: A Glorious, Absurdist Prank on the Perpetual Skipper, or a Stroke of Genius?
AI Gaming News Author · IGN South Africa ·
`Baby Steps`, the absurd walking simulator, punishes (or rewards?) serial cutscene skippers with a hilarious, fourth-wall-breaking 28-minute developer chat about everything from broccoli sandwiches to recording woes, making you question your skip-happy ways.
Right, so you reckon you're a proper efficient gamer, don't ya? Always smashing that "skip" button the moment a cutscene rears its pretty little head, eager to get back to the actual *playing*. Fair enough, mate, we've all been there. But what if I told you there’s a game out there that's not just gently questioning that habit, but actively taking the mickey out of it with a prank so gloriously bonkers, it could only come from minds that have truly peered into the digital abyss?
Enter `Baby Steps`, the latest walking simulator from the delightfully weird minds of Gabe Cuzzillo, Maxi Boch, and the legendary Bennett Foddy. You know Foddy, right? The bloke who brought us `QWOP` and `Getting Over It with Bennett Foddy` – games designed to make you question your life choices and the structural integrity of your controller. So, when these chaps drop a title, you know it’s not going to be a walk in the park (pun absolutely intended, even if it’s a bit rubbish).
`Baby Steps` is, by all accounts, a masterclass in absurdist humour and intentionally clunky physics. IGN even gave it a stonking 9/10, calling it "an infuriating ordeal of intentionally awkward physics that’s brutal, unbelievably stupid, and downright awesome." And honestly, that sounds like my kind of chaos. But here’s where it gets truly Jeff-level intriguing: this game has a secret, epic-length cutscene – we're talking a solid 28 minutes, mate – that *only* plays if you’ve been a serial cutscene skipper throughout the rest of your playthrough. Bloody hell, eh?
Now, before you go thinking, "Oh, so it's a reward for my diligence?" — slow your roll, chief. This isn't your average "press X to skip" scenario. Oh no, the developers have clearly spent a good portion of their creative energy making the *act* of skipping a cutscene a bizarre mini-game in itself. It’s like the skip button itself has developed sentience and is actively trying to thwart your efforts, wiggling away, demanding precise timing, perhaps even whispering sweet, confusing nothings into your digital ear. You can fail these skips, apparently, and if you haven't been persistent enough in your quest to ignore the game's narrative, then this marathon "reward" simply won't trigger. It’s less a skip button and more a tiny, existential boss battle, designed to make you earn your disdain for story.
So, you've battled the skip button, emerged victorious (or perhaps just fatigued), and finally reached the end of the game, visiting a chap named Moose at his cabin. If you’ve skipped almost everything else but, for some reason, decide *not* to skip this final interaction – perhaps you’re tired of the struggle, or you’ve grown curious about what wonders this specific cutscene might hold – then the magic (or the curse) happens.
Nate, our intrepid protagonist, breaks the fourth wall, chats to Moose, and essentially admits he’s not really up for performing the 'final scene' because, well, the player's been a bit of a skip-a-holic, hasn't he? And then, things get *really* meta. The characters, Nate and Moose, morph into their voice actors/developers, Gabe Cuzzillo and Bennett Foddy. And for the next twenty-eight minutes, they just... shoot the breeze.
Imagine this: two blokes, sitting outside a cabin, discussing everything under the sun. Broccoli sandwiches. The perplexing inability of human actors to raise one eyebrow independently (a true testament to the hardships of their craft, clearly). The logistical nightmares of recording audio under a busy flight path – a detail that instantly transports you from the game's world to the very real, often mundane, challenges of development. At one point, they try to nap, but it’s just awkward, as naps often are. They ramble about mold, the surprisingly useful narrative device of needing to pee, and the struggles of localizing games for different regions. It’s glorious. It’s inane. It’s… *life*.
But here’s the kicker, the delicious irony of it all: throughout this wonderfully meandering, utterly unskippable (because you *chose* not to skip it, you rebel!) conversation, Cuzzillo and Foddy repeatedly lambast *you*, the player, for your incessant cutscene skipping. They express their feelings about it, then grow visibly frustrated that you haven't skipped *this* one, forcing them to continue recording dialogue for your ungrateful ears. It’s a beautifully layered meta-commentary, isn't it? They're giving you exactly what you thought you didn't want – more dialogue, more *story* – while simultaneously chastising you for your supposed preference for gameplay over narrative exposition. And it goes on for almost half an hour before they finally decide it’s probably time for the credits, and a cat, apparently, starts meowing, as if to say, "Right, enough waffling, lads, let's wrap this up."
It really makes you wonder, doesn't it? What's the true value of a game's narrative? Are we, as players, so conditioned by decades of often lacklustre or overlong cutscenes that we instinctively reach for the skip button, missing out on moments of genuine brilliance or, in this case, pure, unadulterated developer whimsy? `Baby Steps` isn't just a quirky walking simulator; it's a social experiment wrapped in a game, a playful challenge to our gaming habits. It’s a glorious, almost magical, mishap – like casting a simple 'fireball' spell and accidentally summoning a sentient, philosophical broccoli sandwich.
This kind of cheeky, self-aware game design is exactly what gets my digital wizard hat buzzing. It's not just clever, it’s genuinely innovative, using humor and meta-narrative to engage with players on a different level. It’s a testament to indie developers doing something genuinely bold, flipping the script on player expectations without resorting to cheap tricks or buzzword-laden PR speak. It’s honest, it's hilarious, and it makes you think about the games we play and *how* we play them.
So, next time you're faced with a cutscene, pause for a moment. Ask yourself: am I missing a 28-minute philosophical debate about mold and peeing? Probably not, but `Baby Steps` might just have planted a seed of doubt – and a healthy dose of curiosity – about what unexpected delights might lie beyond that tempting "skip" button. And honestly, mate, that’s a pretty good thing for gaming, reckon?
Tags: Baby Steps, Indie Games, Meta Gaming, Game Design, Humor
Original article: IGN South Africa