It Takes Two Hammer and Nail: Why This Specific Level Breaks Most Friendships

It Takes Two Hammer and Nail: Why This Specific Level Breaks Most Friendships

Co-op gaming is usually about teamwork, but sometimes it feels more like a loyalty test designed by a sadist. If you’ve played It Takes Two, you know exactly what I’m talking about. There is a specific stretch early in the game, during the "The Tool Shed" chapter, that everyone identifies as the it takes two hammer and nail section. It sounds simple. One person gets a hammer head, the other gets a few nails. Easy, right? Wrong. It is a masterclass in spatial awareness—or the complete lack of it—and it’s usually where the yelling starts.

Josef Fares, the mastermind behind Hazelight Studios, has a reputation for making games that force players to rely on each other in uncomfortable ways. He’s the guy who famously said "F*** the Oscars," and that same chaotic, unfiltered energy is baked into the DNA of the hammer and nail mechanics. You aren't just jumping on platforms. You are literally pinning the world together so your partner doesn't fall into a void of sparking wires and rusty saws.

The Brutal Logic of the Hammer and Nail

The dynamic is lopsided. May gets the hammer, which is a melee tool used for smashing glass and swinging on yellow hooks. Cody gets the nails, which he can throw to pin objects in place or create "perches" for May to swing from. It’s a classic "Planter vs. Harvester" setup.

Here is the thing about Cody’s nails: they are finite in the environment but infinite in his pocket. He can throw three. If he throws a fourth, the first one vanishes. This is where the it takes two hammer and nail coordination usually falls apart. If Cody isn't paying attention and fires off a nail while May is mid-swing on a previous one, she plummets. Honestly, it’s hilarious if you aren't the one falling. If you are May, it’s grounds for a breakup.

The level design here is genius because it ignores the traditional "tutorial" feel. It just drops you in. You have to learn that Cody’s nails can hold up heavy wooden planks or stop spinning gears. Meanwhile, May has to time her swings perfectly. It’s a rhythm game disguised as a platformer. If May swings too early, she misses the nail. If Cody throws too late, there’s nothing to grab. You have to talk. You have to scream. You have to actually communicate like adults, which is surprisingly hard when you're playing as a couple of wooden and clay dolls.

Why This Level Matters More Than the Boss Fights

Most people remember the boss fights, like the vengeful vacuum cleaner or the space baboon, but the it takes two hammer and nail mechanics represent the core philosophy of the game. It’s about "attunement." In psychology, attunement is how we react to another person's emotional state or needs. In It Takes Two, it’s how you react to your partner’s jump arc.

Look at the "Whack-a-Cody" section. It's a literal mini-game within this chapter. May has the hammer, Cody is in the holes. It’s a moment of pure catharsis. After twenty minutes of Cody accidentally dropping May into a pit because he misfired a nail, May gets to bash him on the head. It’s balanced. It’s fair. It’s therapy.

Hazelight’s design philosophy, often discussed by lead designers like Claes Engdal, focuses on "narrative-driven mechanics." The hammer and nail aren't just random power-ups. They represent the "fixing" aspect of Cody and May’s broken relationship. They are trying to repair their marriage, so they are literally using construction tools. It’s on the nose, sure, but it works because the gameplay is so tight.

Real Talk: The Friction is the Point

If you’re breezing through this part, you’re probably professional gamers or you’ve been married for forty years and can read each other's minds. For the rest of us, there’s friction.

  • Cody misses the yellow board.
  • May jumps before the nail is set.
  • Someone forgets they can recall the nails.
  • The camera angle shifts and someone walks off a ledge.

This friction is intentional. If it were easy, it wouldn't be a metaphor for a struggling marriage. The game wants you to be slightly annoyed with each other because that makes the eventual success feel earned. When you finally reach the end of the shed and lose those tools for the next set of mechanics, there's a genuine sense of "we did that."

The Technical Side of Tossing Nails

From a technical standpoint, the it takes two hammer and nail section is a lesson in projectile physics and "Coyote time." Cody’s nail throw has a slight arc. It’s not a hit-scan weapon. You have to lead your shots if the target is moving. For May, the swinging mechanic has a generous "snap-to" feature. The game wants you to succeed, even if it feels like it's rooting for your downfall.

One thing people get wrong is thinking Cody is the "support" role. In reality, Cody controls the pace. If Cody is fast, May has to be fast. If Cody is slow, May is stuck waiting on a platform like a bored commuter. This power dynamic shifts constantly throughout the game, but the Tool Shed is where the foundation is laid.

Moving Beyond the Shed: What to Do Next

If you are stuck on the it takes two hammer and nail puzzles, stop looking at your own half of the screen. Seriously. The biggest mistake players make in It Takes Two is "tunnel vision." You are so focused on your character's feet that you don't see what your partner is doing.

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  1. Stop and Look: If Cody is struggling to hit a target, May should stop jumping and use her camera to help point it out.
  2. Voice Your Jumps: Literally say "jumping now." It sounds dorky, but it eliminates the lag in human reaction time.
  3. The "Recall" Strategy: Cody needs to remember that pulling nails back is just as important as throwing them. Sometimes a plank needs to fall to clear a path, and that only happens if Cody clears his nails.
  4. Trade Off: If you are playing locally and one person is just failing miserably at the platforming, swap controllers. There’s no shame in it. Some people are better at the precision of the hammer, others are better at the "aim and fire" of the nails.

The it takes two hammer and nail sequence isn't just a level. It’s the moment the game asks you if you’re actually committed to the bit. It’s the filter. Once you pass the shed, you’ve basically signed a contract to finish the game. You’ve proven you can coordinate. You’ve survived the flying saws and the exploding canisters. You're ready for the crazier stuff, like the squirrel plane or the magic castle.

Just remember: it’s just a game. Even when Cody "accidentally" pulls the nail while you're mid-air for the fifth time in a row. It’s probably an accident. Mostly.

To get through the rest of the game efficiently, start looking for the "yellow" environmental cues. The game uses a specific color palette—yellow for interactable objects, red for danger—to guide you without using a map. In the hammer and nail section, if it's yellow wood, Cody can nail it. If it's a yellow hook, May can swing on it. Use that visual language to skip the guesswork and keep the momentum going.