Alright, let’s talk about Getting Over It with Bennett Foddy bennet foddy. Man, where do I even start? This game is the digital equivalent of stubbing your toe over and over, except you keep coming back for more because, for some reason, you love the pain. You’re this bizarre dude, chilling in a giant metal cauldron, and your only friend in the world is a pickaxe. That’s it. No legs, no fancy gadgets—just pure, unfiltered suffering and a whole lotta physics.

So, here’s the deal:

the game wants you to climb a mountain. Sounds easy, right? Ha. Good one. The path is basically a fever dream of rocks, furniture, and random junk stacked in ways that almost feel like the game is personally mocking you. Every time you get cocky and make some progress, you slip, tumble, and—boom—you’re right back where you started. Or worse.

Movement?

Forget everything you know about normal video game controls. Here, you have to swing and fling yourself with the pickaxe, hoping the physics gods smile upon you. Sometimes they do. Most of the time, they absolutely do not, and you’ll end up screaming at your screen and questioning your life choices. And the best part? The game gives you zero checkpoints. No hand-holding, no “Hey bud, wanna save your progress?”—nothin’. You mess up, you pay for it.

But honestly, that’s kinda the magic here. Every failure feels personal, sure, but every tiny victory? It’s like winning the lottery. You start to develop this weird determination. “Just one more try,” you say, at 3 a.m., eyes bloodshot, as you launch yourself off a cliff for the fiftieth time.

And if—big if—you actually make it to the top? There’s this wild sense of accomplishment. Plus, the game throws in a few philosophical nuggets and weird questions that make you think, “Wait, am I learning life lessons from a guy in a bathtub?!” Yup. You are.

Look, this game isn’t for quitters.

It’ll make you rage, but it’ll also make you laugh at how ridiculous your struggle is. If you’re into games that test your patience, break your spirit, but somehow keep you coming back for more, give it a shot. Are you ready to get mad, get humbled, and maybe—just maybe—get over it? Good luck. You’ll need it.