I have a theory about Westworld. It's not about the world outside the park or whether or not Ed Harris is a cylon. My theory has to do with the show itself, which seems fixated on the concept of narrative. Westworld is already drawing comparisons to Lost and Battlestar Galactica, two shows that trafficked heavily in managing and playing with viewer expectations, but they were still narrative shows that took place in their own worlds. Westworld is a slightly different animal. Thematically, it's about entertainment that turns against its consumer. So while it has echoes of Lost and BG, and the obvious antecedents of the 1973 Westworld film and Jurassic Park, I think there's a strain of influences that are more akin to The Ring and Mulholland Drive, horror movies that invite the viewer to be just as much of a victim as the characters on screen. The former posits a world in which viewing a film is a death sentence. The latter creates a distorted and disorienting world that makes the viewer feel just as lost as the characters.
In short, here's my Westworld theory: Westworld is messing with us.
The world-within-a-world of Westworld presents itself almost like an MMORPG. There's a central hub where guests can play around, and there they will find a series of small repeating events that are inviting them on sidequests. Then there are the huge out-of-the-way quests for completionists (read as: Ed Harris, who may or may not be a cylon). Then there are big events, like Hector's shoot-out. Finally, there's whatever happens just because the guests were farting around and shooting people. That's four layers of story interacting just within the world-within-a-world. But the television show adds a few more: there's Arnold's long-con, there's Theresa's corporate politicking, there's Ford's rabid defense of his creation, and then whatever-the-hell Bernard's been doing. And oh yeah, there's Logan's company trying to buy out Delos, Westworld's parent company. Also apparently there's some corporate espionage going on.
I'm thinking this is all distraction. Ostensibly, if Westworld-the-world is an MMORPG, then Westworld-the-show is about what happens when the NPCs come to life. As such, all of this world-building is background to the Pinocchio narratives around Maeve and Dolores. Despite all the mystery and narrative, the show is about the robots, and the show has devoted a fair amount of time towards making the robots seem human and relatable while making the human characters flat and static--especially those who work behind-the-scenes. This is not a catastrophe narrative, as it was in the 1973 film. This is a revolution narrative, and in this narrative, the humans are the bad guys. So, add Ex Machina to the list of influences.
But what does that have to do with us, the viewers? Well, humans are the bad guys, and we're the humans. I think the show is priming us for some real-life scares. It's already been playing fast-and-loose with chronology and neglecting to establish some very important practical details--how, for example, does Dolores get from the middle of a parade to underground-and-naked to have a conversation with Ford and then back without anyone noticing her absence? Was it, in fact, a dream? What the hell happened to that guy who died in episode three? Then there's the ever-present player-piano, which sometimes plays recognizable songs to remind us that this is all fake, but then sometimes doesn't. Also, we know practically nothing of the outside world of the show. We've seen a few glimpses from Bernard and the photo that set off Dolores's dad, and nothing indicates that this show actually takes place in a far future. There've even been some film-technique shenanigans. In that same conversation between Ford and Dolores, Ford asks if she remembers "the man I used to be" while the camera pans behind her head. This is a classic technique for a visual reveal, but when the camera emerges on the other side, we still see Ford. Nothing has changed. Our gut-level intuitions about storytelling don't necessarily apply in this show.
Given the reported delays and reshoots, it's easy to dismiss some of this as sloppy storytelling and slap-dash editing. But it's important to keep in mind that this is the newest prestige drama from HBO, the same channel that assured us that [REDACTED] was really dead for good on Game Of Thrones. It would not surprise me at all if some of this was HBO managing the viewers, setting them up for whatever bombshell is going to drop in episode nine. And if you think about it, all of this is laid out in the opening credits--from the initial shot of moonrise over the desert (that's actually a work-light rising over a half-finished torso) to the skeleton hands playing the piano that then recede, because it's actually a player-piano (there's that damned player-piano again). The show starts at nothing-is-what-it-seems with viewers expecting to have the rug pulled out from underneath them. But I think the show has grander aspirations than just the rug--I think it wants to pull out the whole floor.
So yeah, I'm pretty sure Westworld is messing with us. If the player-piano starts playing Rains of Castamere, get ready.
PS: did you know that Westworld has an companion ARG-style website? Of course you do, we all signed up for HBO Now and got the link. Anyway, this show that's going to try to scare us in real life has all of our email addresses now, that's what I'm getting at.
In short, here's my Westworld theory: Westworld is messing with us.
The world-within-a-world of Westworld presents itself almost like an MMORPG. There's a central hub where guests can play around, and there they will find a series of small repeating events that are inviting them on sidequests. Then there are the huge out-of-the-way quests for completionists (read as: Ed Harris, who may or may not be a cylon). Then there are big events, like Hector's shoot-out. Finally, there's whatever happens just because the guests were farting around and shooting people. That's four layers of story interacting just within the world-within-a-world. But the television show adds a few more: there's Arnold's long-con, there's Theresa's corporate politicking, there's Ford's rabid defense of his creation, and then whatever-the-hell Bernard's been doing. And oh yeah, there's Logan's company trying to buy out Delos, Westworld's parent company. Also apparently there's some corporate espionage going on.
I'm thinking this is all distraction. Ostensibly, if Westworld-the-world is an MMORPG, then Westworld-the-show is about what happens when the NPCs come to life. As such, all of this world-building is background to the Pinocchio narratives around Maeve and Dolores. Despite all the mystery and narrative, the show is about the robots, and the show has devoted a fair amount of time towards making the robots seem human and relatable while making the human characters flat and static--especially those who work behind-the-scenes. This is not a catastrophe narrative, as it was in the 1973 film. This is a revolution narrative, and in this narrative, the humans are the bad guys. So, add Ex Machina to the list of influences.
But what does that have to do with us, the viewers? Well, humans are the bad guys, and we're the humans. I think the show is priming us for some real-life scares. It's already been playing fast-and-loose with chronology and neglecting to establish some very important practical details--how, for example, does Dolores get from the middle of a parade to underground-and-naked to have a conversation with Ford and then back without anyone noticing her absence? Was it, in fact, a dream? What the hell happened to that guy who died in episode three? Then there's the ever-present player-piano, which sometimes plays recognizable songs to remind us that this is all fake, but then sometimes doesn't. Also, we know practically nothing of the outside world of the show. We've seen a few glimpses from Bernard and the photo that set off Dolores's dad, and nothing indicates that this show actually takes place in a far future. There've even been some film-technique shenanigans. In that same conversation between Ford and Dolores, Ford asks if she remembers "the man I used to be" while the camera pans behind her head. This is a classic technique for a visual reveal, but when the camera emerges on the other side, we still see Ford. Nothing has changed. Our gut-level intuitions about storytelling don't necessarily apply in this show.
Given the reported delays and reshoots, it's easy to dismiss some of this as sloppy storytelling and slap-dash editing. But it's important to keep in mind that this is the newest prestige drama from HBO, the same channel that assured us that [REDACTED] was really dead for good on Game Of Thrones. It would not surprise me at all if some of this was HBO managing the viewers, setting them up for whatever bombshell is going to drop in episode nine. And if you think about it, all of this is laid out in the opening credits--from the initial shot of moonrise over the desert (that's actually a work-light rising over a half-finished torso) to the skeleton hands playing the piano that then recede, because it's actually a player-piano (there's that damned player-piano again). The show starts at nothing-is-what-it-seems with viewers expecting to have the rug pulled out from underneath them. But I think the show has grander aspirations than just the rug--I think it wants to pull out the whole floor.
So yeah, I'm pretty sure Westworld is messing with us. If the player-piano starts playing Rains of Castamere, get ready.
PS: did you know that Westworld has an companion ARG-style website? Of course you do, we all signed up for HBO Now and got the link. Anyway, this show that's going to try to scare us in real life has all of our email addresses now, that's what I'm getting at.
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