‘Yoshi’s Woolly World’ Is Just the Best Parent-and-Child Platformer

2015's super-aww platformer Yoshi's Woolly World has made the leap from on-the-slide Wii U to still-going-strong 3DS this week, with a slight twist—for its handheld incarnation the game has become Poochy & Yoshi's Woolly World, featuring its supporting doggy character. You can read all about its cuteness, and how it goes beyond that surface impression, over here, as Danielle's been playing it.

I probably won't be checking it out on my 3DS, though, since the new port's missing one essential feature: co-operative play. I totally understand why—local co-op's not as easily arranged on Nintendo's twin-screen system as it is around the same TV, Wii U GamePad and Pro Controller in hands. It makes sense that it's a solo game. But the original—just as cute, and full of satisfying secrets, as the mobile version—was absolutely the perfect two-player game for my son and I.

My oldest son is six. He's starting to take an interest in video games—hardly surprising, since I do this for a job and regularly have to have them on the box, in the living room, in the daytime. (Always family friendly until after bedtime, of course.) With the Wii U his console of choice—big pad, bright games, recognizable characters—he'll happily spend an hour refining a new level in Super Mario Maker, asking me to test it and make suggestions. We've also made some progress as a pair in Super Mario 3D World, albeit with the occasional tantrum thrown where he can't quite make a leap, or gets stuck in a bubble when his old man blasts through a floor-tile puzzle and leaves him off-screen. (Sorry but, y'know, the game is against the clock.)

But it's Yoshi's Woolly World that's most successfully got us playing together, in something approaching harmony—where our differing skill levels don't negatively impact the enjoyment of the other player. The reason we can get by without tearing the other's hair out is because of the game's most-welcome "Mellow Mode". With this setting, either Yoshi can float through any stage on itty-bitty wings (see the screen above), avoiding enemies when they want to, by simply holding the jump button. In practice, it means that whenever a situation gets a bit heated for the boy, he can get out of the way while dad bops some adorably soft heads.

Both of my kids—the other is younger, but no less vocal when it comes to wanting a turn—are turning their heads towards games, and have even used virtual reality at home. I appreciate that the box says it's for players aged 12 and upwards; but try telling that to a won't-shut-up-otherwise toddler who's adamant that he wants to take a cage dive into a crystal-blue sea (" without the shark, daddy"), or chase robots along a city center freeway as a head-swinging bright-green monster. So long as the #content is all-ages suitable, I'm happy for them to experiment with interactive mediums, whatever their delivery or platform.

These VR experiences don't rely on face buttons, bumpers, triggers and analogue sticks, though—and it's when using a pad that mistakes happen and frustration levels peak. Son number one will sometimes have a crack at Mario Kart 8, but spends much of his time over-steering and being put back onto the track by the always-on-hand Lakitu. With its accelerometer able to shift the view, Captain Toad: Treasure Tracker can become unwieldy. But the side-on Woolly World, with its pretty basic jump and slurp controls—the aiming of the balls tends to be left to me—is just that much easier to click with. Especially when jump also doubles as the get-me-out-of-here button.

"Mellow Mode" is both an apt name for the way the game plays when active, and for the atmosphere in my house when we're seeing off an end-of-level boss without any histrionic hissy fits from him. I encourage him to get involved, he does, he enjoys it; but when he wants to pull back, he can. This isn't something that 3D World offers, though I wish it did. And that applies to more games in general, too.

I think he'd love the madcap moment-to-moment play of the HD-era Rayman games, but they can get pretty crunchy, pretty testing. He likes the Sackboy character of LittleBigPlanet 3 on the PS4, and that game's presentation is totally geared towards smaller players with bright brains, ready to be inspired. But it does rather demand that co-op players are of the same skill level in order to make notable progress, swinging and sliding and hitting switches at just the right time.

We've tried a handful of Lego games, with Dimensions the favorite (something, something, Ninjago). But even those can begin to grate when a platform beside a necessary lever is consistently missed, and you just know he won't let you do it. (Also, the way those games split their screen, at all angles, seems to really throw him. I wonder if that's a thing with other young gamers, too.) Any one of these titles would benefit from the option of having a second player "carried" by the first, but able to duck in and out of the action at their leisure. So they're involved, but not at obvious risk.

When you're 36, you know how losing lives works. (Hell, you know how losing in life does, too.) You appreciate that it's a pivotal part of the game, and retrying makes you better—even back when you were paying the coin-op price. But when you're six, seeing a game over screen just once can feel like a crushing failure, like the game's against you, because you've not figured out yet that losing is a necessary step towards winning. It just sucks, instead of being a motivator to play more.

Plenty of games have "easy" modes, but they're still reliant on being fluent in finger-and-thumb dexterity. Woolly World on the Wii U works as a terrific on-ramp for the very young, for the platforming genre, for understanding the functions of face buttons, and appreciating the nuances of successful co-op play. It's not the hardest game outside of its "Mellow Mode", but there's no shame in seeing it through in that less-fraught setting, even solo on the 3DS.

It's worth it to enjoy seeking its treasures—peeking out from behind unraveling and compacting sections of scenery—and the whole kawaii-ness of it all. We all need simple distractions, sometimes. And anything that keeps the kids from tearing up the place, that maintains some semblance of peace, because they've just had their fluffy dinosaur nipped by a cutesy crab is a good thing.

Follow Mike on Twitter.