Rose’s Room is a fever dream. If you’ve played Hazelight Studios' co-op masterpiece, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Most of It Takes Two feels like a whimsical adventure through a Pixar-style divorce recovery program, but then you hit the childhood bedroom of Cody and May’s daughter, Rose, and things get... weird. It’s a massive, sprawling hub that houses some of the most creative—and occasionally traumatizing—gameplay sequences in modern memory.
Honestly, it’s the peak of the game's "genre-blending" philosophy. One minute you’re playing a top-down dungeon crawler that feels suspiciously like Diablo, and the next, you’re navigating a space-themed platforming gauntlet. It’s brilliant. It’s exhausting.
The Absolute Chaos of the Rose's Room Hub
The first thing you notice when you drop into it takes two rose's room is the scale. Everything is huge. You’re tiny dolls, after all. Josef Fares and his team at Hazelight didn’t just make a bedroom; they made a miniature universe. You have the "Spaced Out" section, the "Dino Land" area, and the "Once Upon a Time" castle.
It functions as a central nervous system for the middle act of the game. You aren't just moving from Point A to Point B. You’re exploring the manifestation of a child's imagination, which, as it turns out, is kind of chaotic. It’s also where the game stops holding your hand. The mechanics shift so rapidly that if you don't keep up, you're toast.
The Elephant in the Room (Literally)
We have to talk about Cutie. We just have to.
The "Once Upon a Time" segment within Rose's Room contains what is arguably the most infamous scene in 2021 gaming history. To "save" Rose, Cody and May decide they need to make her cry. Their logic? If she cries, her tears will break the spell and turn them back into humans. To do this, they decide to destroy her favorite toy: Cutie the Elephant.
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It’s brutal.
Watching two parents—characters you’ve been rooting for—systematically dismantle a sentient, screaming plushie is a wild tonal shift. Some players hate it. They think it goes too far. Others see it as a dark, necessary look at how selfish people can be when they’re desperate. Either way, it’s the moment it takes two rose's room stops being just a fun platformer and starts being something people debate on Reddit for years.
Mechanical Whiplash: From Space to Medieval Fantasy
The gameplay in this chapter is basically a love letter to every genre ever made.
When you enter the "Spaced Out" section, the game flips. Suddenly, you're messing with gravity and size-shifting. Cody can shrink or grow, while May gets boots that let her walk on walls. The puzzles here require a level of coordination that usually results in a lot of shouting at your partner. "No, the other button!"
Then you hit "Hopscotch." It’s bright, colorful, and feels like a classic 3D platformer. But then—bam. You’re in a 2D side-scrolling section that looks like a sketchbook. Then you're in a toy car race.
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The dungeon crawler section, "Castle Rock," is particularly impressive. You get classes. May is a fighter, Cody is a mage. It’s not just a "mini-game"—it has actual depth. You’re kiting enemies, managing cooldowns, and fighting a boss that wouldn't look out of place in a simplified World of Warcraft raid. It shows the sheer technical ambition of Hazelight. They built an entire ARPG system just for a twenty-minute segment of one level.
Why This Level Matters for Game Design
Most games find a "loop" and stick to it. Call of Duty is about shooting. Forza is about driving. It takes two rose's room rejects the very idea of a loop. It’s a series of vignettes.
Game designer Josef Fares has been vocal about "ludonarrative dissonance"—the idea that gameplay and story shouldn't contradict each other. In Rose's Room, the gameplay is the story. The disjointed, frantic nature of the levels reflects the fractured state of Rose’s home life. Her world is literally in pieces. As Cody and May navigate these toys, they’re navigating the wreckage of their own parenting.
- Creative Overload: The level introduces about 10 new mechanics that are never used again once you leave the room.
- Narrative Weight: It forces the player to be complicit in a "villainous" act (the Cutie scene), which creates a unique emotional bond—or revulsion—toward the protagonists.
- Visual Variety: It moves from high-contrast neon space aesthetics to soft, wooden toy textures seamlessly.
Tips for Getting Through Rose's Room Without an Argument
If you're playing this with a partner or a spouse, be prepared. This is the "break up" level.
- In the Space Section: The person playing Cody needs to be okay with being the "utility" character. Shrinking and growing is key to opening paths, but May is the one doing the heavy lifting on the walls. Communication is everything here.
- The Boss Fights: The Moon Baboon fight is a test of patience. It’s a multi-stage battle that requires May to pilot a ship while Cody handles the guns. Switch roles if you’re struggling; sometimes a fresh perspective on the controls fixes the "skill wall."
- Explore the Hub: Don't just rush the objectives. There are dozens of interactable toys that don't do anything for the plot but are great for a laugh. There’s a "torture chamber" for the Book of Love (Dr. Hakim) and various sports mini-games like tank combat and laser tennis.
The Psychological Undercurrent
There’s a reason this level feels so different from the Tool Shed or the Cuckoo Clock. Rose's Room is the inner sanctum. It's the only place in the game where the parents are intruders in their daughter's most private space.
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When you’re in the "Dino Land" segment, you're using toys Rose likely played with yesterday. There’s a lingering guilt that permeates the fun. You're playing a game, but the characters are destroying a childhood. It’s a sophisticated bit of storytelling that uses "fun" to make you feel slightly uncomfortable.
The level also tackles the concept of "play" as therapy. Dr. Hakim, the polarizing talking book, forces them into these scenarios because they’ve forgotten how to play—both with each other and with their daughter. By the time you leave the room, the characters (and hopefully the players) have a better grasp of the collateral damage of their divorce.
Actionable Takeaways for Your Playthrough
If you’re stuck or just starting the it takes two rose's room chapter, keep these points in mind:
- Check Every Nook: This chapter is densest with "minigames." These are permanent unlocks you can access from the main menu later. Missing the "Batting Team" or "Birdstar" minigames is a bummer if you’re a completionist.
- Adjust Your Controls: The flight mechanics in the space section can be inverted. If you’re crashing the ship constantly, dive into the settings. It’s a common pain point.
- Embrace the Genre Swaps: Don't try to play the dungeon crawler like a platformer. Use the specific skills the game gives you. Cody’s ice spells and May’s dash are essential for the final encounter in the castle.
- Take Breaks: Because this level is so long—it can take 2 to 3 hours depending on how much you explore—it’s easy to get "mechanic fatigue." If the puzzles start feeling frustrating instead of fun, park the dolls by the toy chest and come back the next day.
Rose's Room remains a masterclass in variety. It’s messy, it’s beautiful, it’s controversial, and it’s arguably the reason It Takes Two won Game of the Year. It’s not just a level; it’s a collection of ideas that most developers would have saved for five different sequels. Whether you love the Cutie scene or find it horrifying, you won't forget it. That's just good design.