[ma.tv]: Westworld S01 E02, “Chesnut”
A Weekly Examination of Westworld by Eric Wilkinson, Brought to you by Medium and the[middleaisle]
“Everything in this world is magic except to the magician.”- Robert Ford
In its second chapter, Westworld contextualizes its world building into a few carefully shifting plotlines. As was the case in its premiere, Westworld has determined that the weight of self realization does indeed sink deeply into the roots of every being in this universe. As newcomer William (Jimmi Simpson) tries to engage with the beautiful Angela (Talula Riley), he questions her artificiality before being met with a striking response: “well if you can’t tell, does it matter?” This is an important byline as it unveils a carefully crafted yet murky philosophical quandary: are we meant to see the constructs of our own creation as mere fixtures of our imagination for what’s possible? Or by creating sentient beings, are we, as a socitey, responsible for allowing life to thrive and survive without us?
While it wastes very little time in answering this and other questions, Chestnut inches forward with a great reverence for keeping us in the dark about many of its machinations. What I appreciated about it as a followup to The Original, is that it clearly wants to convey a balance between life in and outside the park, but does so with a specific character in focus to ground what could otherwise be a very scattered narrative.
Last week we spent considerable time following Dolores (Evan Rachel Wood), whose her encounter with her malfunctioning father, Peter (Louis Herthem), has apparently left some pretty deep scars. In Chestnut, Dolores takes a backseat to most of the action, but does manage to share Peter’s last words as a sort of verbal command of existential dread to Maeve (Thandie Newton), a prostitute. Maeve’s sudden unraveling and decrease in effectiveness are tied somehow to the phrase itself and it eats away at her like cancer as a tragic “memory” from her past(?) is recalled and experienced again.
The power of this verbal command is at the core of Dolores’s influence, and not unlike that of the Engineers, who we’ve seen use them consistently in both episodes, it serves the purpose of control. We don’t yet know who the voice in her head is, if it’s anyone at all, and can only assume that this crisis of identity will continue to motivate her and other hosts in their awakening. After the encounter, Maeve loses touch with her ability to swoon the Newcomers and eventually Engineering decides to decommission her altogether. Director Richard Lewis intercuts these decisions with Maeve’s recollection of her former life, as I mentioned previously, but what makes it fascinating is not what happens in the memory itself, but for what it conveys about Maeve and others like her.
The Original made a pretty valid argument for Hosts slowly becoming more unique and individualized through alterations to their programming by Dr. Ford. Ford refers to these moments as “reveries,” and they can take the form of memories or recollections from past narratives or encounters that the Host has experienced and is unique to them. Maeve’s former life on the frontier, with a daughter and a homestead, is worlds apart from her life as a prostitute maven, and says something significant about the kind of narratives Lee Sizemore (Simon Quartermain) has created for them. Maeve loses her daughter and her home to a band of rogue Indians, presumably led by The Man in Black (Ed Harris), whose role here is still largely, deceptively, opaque. Maeve recalls the experience and feels it as though it were happening to her in the moment and through this purging of time and memory, we come to the core theme of Chestnut: that the self realized construction of our own past, present, and future reflects heavily onto whether or not we’ve become more or less human.
Chestnut thrives on this concept as it forces us to question the degree to with behavior is motivated by awareness, nature, or something else entirely. The concept of Occam’s Razor is discussed, which when applied to Westworld implies that the simplest, most plausible explanation to a problem is the correct one. However, given what we know about the Delos Organization, the construction of the Hosts, and the programming methods and decommissioning practices performed by them, can a simple answer be provided for that of the Hosts recollections? The host’s malfunctions are still very much a concern for Engineering and Maeve’s sudden consciousness during surgery and flight through the reconstruction wings, certainly won’t help relinquish them, and may be yet another spark to the fire in providing agency to others.
The stories are best left to the guests.
William and his co-worker, Logan (Ben Barnes), fill the roles of Westworld’s necessary Newcomers, and through their initial approches to the park and its wonders, a proper parallel between those seeking pleasure and those seeking absolution. While neither makes a considerable splash within the narrative, both serve the purpose of providing surrogacy for the audience.
In the original Michael Crichton film, we experienced Westworld through the partnership between Peter Martin (Richard Benjamin) and John Blaine (James Brolin), and within their investigation of Westworld we discover the dark history of the park. Whether Jonathan Nolan decides to pay homage to this storyline through direct adaptation, or will use William specifically, to demonstrate how a Newcomer can perceive this world aside from personal gain, is still up in the air.
William shows considerable restraint and even dismisses Clementine’s (Angela Sarafyan) advances in favor of a lover back home. His shy demeanor and repeated verbal decision to keep himself from giving into temptation is admirable, though I suspect something may change his mind (Dolores) as time wears on. Logan is a stock jock character with very little to offer the narrative aside from a counterpoint to William. By way of his “expertise” we’ve seen a few moments of unnecessary sex and aggrivated violence as a way to convey their differences and to set Logan up as something of an Achilles heel for William’s experience. The differences were pretty obvious before Logan’s reactions to the barman but I guess the director really needed to sell us on that fact.
Speaking of the Newcomers, in Chestnut we are given a pretty revealing exploration of The Man in Black and his journey through Westworld to find its fabled inner sanctum, The Maze. His claim to this secret may have seemed like a fool’s errand at first, yet after leveling an entire village of bandits and threatening the family of a convict, Lawrence (Clifton Collins), TMIB’s theories prove to be correct. A young girl reveals that the “maze was not made for him,” and despite her warning, he appears unfazed and more determined than ever. She also provides some directions, noting that he follow the “blood arroyo to the place where the snake lays its eggs,” which may refer to wherever Dr. Ford ends up at the end of the episode. We also learn that Engineering knows who TMIB is and has decided to leave him be, at least for now.
What I’ve appreciated about Westworld’s exploration of TMIB is how its painted him as both a morally complicated villain and a curiosity. He knows everything is temporary in Westworld, and therefore the murders he commits can ultimately be justified. His claim to the maze is both a temptation and a mission of deep importance and reveals a kind of inner drive for the character hellbent on discovering something untapped by those around him. The rest of the Newcomers seem more than content in seducing prostitutes or experiencing bag and grab side quests, but TMIB is different, and seeks absolution where a void has formed. If we are questing for a maze within our own existence, we seek significance where others only see surface pleasures.
It means when you’re suffering, that’s when you’re most real.
This quippy remark by TMIB infers something deeply unsettling about his philosophy yet somehow retains an almost Biblical approach to pain and suffering seen in both religion and aesthetics. The human experience of pain is both an emotionally charged reaction and a physical sensation. It provides nuance and agency and yes, suffering that must be wrestled with and challenged if we are to move forward, beyond its grasp.
In both The Original and Chestnut, its been conveyed that the role humanity plays within this world has been that of an overseer and influencer. The artificial Hosts are used and abused by us for means of pleasure, pain, or a combination of both. When TMIB kills Lawrence’s wife, it isn’t so much that her death is chilling unto itself, but that through his belief in superiority the ‘other’ is declared less than, and therefore worthy of that suffering. This is a disturbing reality indeed.
He is inferring that when we suffer, our humanity reflects the deepest and truest reflection of our inner most self, and in the case of the Hosts, provides a degree of sentience and emotion that otherwise would arguably not exist due to programming. Interestingly side question, are the Hosts experiencing a physical pain rooted in stimulation? Or is it more that their sensors reflect the impact of pain and its physical effects in a coded manner? Either way, the reaction to and experience of pain is just as real and shocking as it is for the Newcomers, should they encounter it, and raises plenty of moral flags in determining the line between appropriate and abhorrent behavior.
Another example of this conundrum is Teddy (James Marsden), who died at the hands of TMIB last week and again this week, by accident in a bar fight. While both experiences resulted in him getting patched up by Engineering to be sent back into the field, they also implied that for a brief moment that the intense physical sensation of pain isn’t determined by flesh and blood but by the bodies acceptance and submission to the cause and effect of experiencing trauma. Teddy experienced these acts of violence and took the blunt force of pain and suffering and absorbed it. Whether those scars remain deeply seeded within each Host’s experience and ready to be unleashed, as programmer Elsie Hughes (Shannon Woodward) fears, or wiped away in an abandonment of cause and effect, we still do not yet know.
You can’t play God without being acquainted with the devil.
Ford mentioned the practice of heuristics, a term which here is used to describe the ability for someone to learn a process, an idea, or an action by themselves without additional training or programming. By applying simple explanations and logical conclusions to otherwise complex questions, Ford and Lowe determine that while there have been some hiccups, the process of creating this world and allowing it to continue to be a user driven experience is still significant.
Ford recalls his role as creator in two seperate terms this week and both carry weight in attempting to understand his motivations as the park’s creative director. The first, is formed in criticism as he recounts his actions as an engineer to that of playing god. From everything that we’ve seen up to this point, Ford does not seem to be the kind of man looking to embellish himself or others. This is not a man that lacks foresight, though he may be one whose cynicism has grown and his regard for how his influence effects the process of creating artificial life, may be indicative of future turmoil. I read him as a man whose vision and participation in this program has many dark secrets hidden away, including that of the tragedy from 30 years prior mentioned in The Original, and that he views limitation as an opportunity fraught with potential rather than something to be ignored or afraid of. While we haven’t experienced any backlash to Westworld or direct criticism of Ford’s philosophy itself, I believe that by the season’s end we will have developed a far greater understanding of the man himself and how his actions have either influenced or perpetrated the awakening.
While Ford’s reveries have contributed to several of the Host’s lapses, his guidance and control of the Delos corporation undoubtedly has given him a creator’s responsibility to ensure its evolution can and will continue. The metaphor stated above isn’t meant to suggest Dr. Ford is beyond reason but merely to associate one of several of Chestnut’s theological principles regarding man and creation, towards Ford’s character and role in this universe.
The second reference Ford makes to himself is that of a magician, which comes about after we witness him entering Westworld alone and interacting with a young boy whose experiencing the park with his family. Dr. Ford sees the land as something malleable and deserving of a vision that to others may appear as magical. His wizard like demeanor is striking and immediately trustworthy while his motivations and actions may underline a far more nuanced approach to ensuring success. The quote about magic comes from a conversation with the young boy and reveals something integral to the weariness we find in his voice and his reaction towards Lee’s presentation of ‘The Odyssey at Red River’ in the middle of the episode. Ford appears disinterested in forcing his creation to follow a direction and instead seems fervently guided by the principles of evolution and self-awareness that’ve come to be embodied in the Hosts themselves. His vision for the landscape is referenced again to Bernard, who accompanies him out to the desolate place and in a striking final image we get yet another religious reference in the placement and positioning of a single chapel.
The significance in that final shot is two-fold as it represents Ford’s god like control of this universe and his belief in setting the world in motion while attempting to control it in as few brush strokes as possible. The other revelation here is that while talking the young boy, Ford implies a chapel exists, where none can actually be seen or heard. This is a form of magic. He wills together an idea and sets it in motion, regardless of intent or assistance from others.
Next week… The Stray, written and directed by Neil Marshall of Game of Thrones fame.
