The first time I gave this game a try I bounced off of it pretty hard. I found little enjoyment in the Steam version's inconsistent controls and pretentious narration, so I ended up dropping it less than an hour after booting it up.
Some years later as a freshman in college I came across it on the app store during my morning commute. After a few minutes of play I realized the mobile version had two huge advantages: portability and touch controls. I became fascinated with the game not long after that, and since it was always in my pocket I spent every brief respite from student life making slow but steady progress. I'd play it while on the bus, waiting for takeout, even right before I went to bed. Some failures were crushing, but those moments were immediately followed up with joy from how easy it became to regain that progress. That's not to mention how the switch to fine motor skill-reliant touch controls made the game feel much more focused on skill than luck.
Something occurred to me as I reached the last portion of the game: since I had been playing it on my phone and more often than not in public, I never had the sound on. Out of curiosity I cranked the volume up, only to find an uncomfortably forced breathy voice monologuing about the emotional power of my journey, like an off-brand The Beginner's Guide. Suddenly I wasn't so excited about beating the game. I didn't feel like it was about my experience anymore - my progress was all in service of unlocking more schmaltzy dialogue. That's when I remembered the title of the game wasn't Getting Over It, it was Getting Over It with Bennett Foddy. I quickly turned the sound off and immediately started having more fun. I beat the game soon after, and beat it a second time shortly after that. Before long I was able to do a complete run of the game in less than 10 minutes pretty consistently. I could play the first half while barely looking at my phone. I got the gold pot, and finally decided to delete the game after reaching 100 summits. I'll never have the skill or time investment required to master something like Counter Strike or Tekken, but I'm grateful this game gave me a window into what that must feel like. Getting Over It clearly wants to be viewed as a work of art, and by the time I uninstalled the game I completely believed it was. I only wish the game was allowed to speak for itself.
Some years later as a freshman in college I came across it on the app store during my morning commute. After a few minutes of play I realized the mobile version had two huge advantages: portability and touch controls. I became fascinated with the game not long after that, and since it was always in my pocket I spent every brief respite from student life making slow but steady progress. I'd play it while on the bus, waiting for takeout, even right before I went to bed. Some failures were crushing, but those moments were immediately followed up with joy from how easy it became to regain that progress. That's not to mention how the switch to fine motor skill-reliant touch controls made the game feel much more focused on skill than luck.
Something occurred to me as I reached the last portion of the game: since I had been playing it on my phone and more often than not in public, I never had the sound on. Out of curiosity I cranked the volume up, only to find an uncomfortably forced breathy voice monologuing about the emotional power of my journey, like an off-brand The Beginner's Guide. Suddenly I wasn't so excited about beating the game. I didn't feel like it was about my experience anymore - my progress was all in service of unlocking more schmaltzy dialogue. That's when I remembered the title of the game wasn't Getting Over It, it was Getting Over It with Bennett Foddy. I quickly turned the sound off and immediately started having more fun. I beat the game soon after, and beat it a second time shortly after that. Before long I was able to do a complete run of the game in less than 10 minutes pretty consistently. I could play the first half while barely looking at my phone. I got the gold pot, and finally decided to delete the game after reaching 100 summits. I'll never have the skill or time investment required to master something like Counter Strike or Tekken, but I'm grateful this game gave me a window into what that must feel like. Getting Over It clearly wants to be viewed as a work of art, and by the time I uninstalled the game I completely believed it was. I only wish the game was allowed to speak for itself.