To call Agon a point-and-click game is to grossly overstate the amount of clicking. For a very long time, the game involves nothing more than exhausting dialogue trees of the characters you meet. Although the puzzles you%26rsquo;ll eventually reach are decent enough, the swamp of extremely middle-class dialogue you have to trudge through makes it feel more like a book than a game.
Worse still, the dialogue sounds like it%26rsquo;s delivered slowly by the over-keen members of a theater group for simpletons, and you don%26rsquo;t get a whiff of a puzzle until you%26rsquo;ve listened to in excess of an hour of this eye-glazing chat. If it%26rsquo;s designed to make you care for the characters, it%26rsquo;s a terrible mistake - we spent long minutes actively willing them to explode.
Agon makes a vague stab at aping Myst, by confining your exploration to a series of jump points. However, where Myst lets you know with intuitive visual clues where you might be expected to go, Agon leaves you to scour a 360%26deg; panorama for something - anything - that changes your cursor.
Sometimes it seems deliberately mocking. To whittle the branches of a dialogue tree to one option feels like the main achievement in Agon. And for that option to be the tree-exploding question, %26ldquo;Can I ask some more questions?%26rdquo; - well, to continue the arboreal metaphor, that famous scene in Evil Dead springs to mind, because that%26rsquo;s what playing Agon is like: getting fingered by a tree.
Mar 14, 2008