Spider and Web

You’ve been captured. You’re being interrogated. Your captor wants to know how you infiltrated the building, and you’re going to tell him — or at least, a version of events that keeps you alive.

Andrew Plotkin’s Spider and Web is built on a single mechanical innovation that I won’t spoil here. What I can say is that the game uses the parser itself as an unreliable narrator, and the moment you understand what’s happening is one of interactive fiction’s greatest twists.

What Works

The structure is elegant. You’re recounting your infiltration to your interrogator, playing through your memories — but when your story doesn’t match the evidence, you’re thrown back to try again. It’s Rashomon as puzzle box.

The spy-fiction trappings are well-handled, but they’re ultimately dressing. This is a game about the relationship between player and parser, between what you type and what it means.

What Doesn’t

Some of the physical puzzles feel arbitrary compared to the narrative machinery surrounding them. You may find yourself wrestling with inventory management when you’d rather be wrestling with truth.

The Verdict

Spider and Web is a game that could only exist in this medium. Essential.