Westworld: Humanity Among the Robots

HBO’s Westworld returns to the network with an easy entrance from where it last left off, dancing along the very same line that it always has: that which is drawn between humanity and programmed intelligence. The series premiere took hold of this core concept and used it to set up lines of dominoes that will (hopefully) fall throughout the show’s progression.  

This episode begins, as many things have, with Dolores. Step by step, she takes ownership over her new surroundings, starting with the men who abused her in the simulation and working her way up, up, up as she and her allies begin to weave their way into the very fabric of society. The concept of identity should take a big role this season given the number of host doppelgängers that have been introduced, but none as succinctly illustrate this idea as well as Dolores herself.  

This character’s growth has been particularly outstanding, especially when one uses the first episode of each season as a marker for development. The first season begins with a softer, simpler version of the android, unable to or perhaps uninterested in standing up for herself. The second season has her swinging drastically in the other direction, the leader of a violent revolt. Now, at the start of season three, audiences see this character take on a more merciful tone, with a confession of how she has already hurt so many people. Of how she doesn’t wish to hurt any more.

Are these words followed by the death of a man in his own home? Yes. Clearly, this character is far from being perfectly moral, but that was never her intention and, furthermore, it is exactly what makes her a richly complex character.

This season also introduces viewers to another fascinating character: Caleb Nichols, the Army veteran turned construction worker. Throughout this episode, he must wrestle with his PTSD, relying on petty crime to pay his ever mounting pile of bills as his attempts to enter the corporate world continue to fail. Aside from being brilliantly portrayed by the obviously talented Aaron Paul, this character presents another perspective within Westworld’s structure of humanity. Looked at in the most basic form, Caleb is aggressively human, refusing to even utilize drugs or other behavior modifiers. At the same time, this character expresses a feeling of being programmed by the Army, and not having full autonomy over his actions and beliefs.  

Every last character in this show acts as a piece of Westworld’s greater exploration into what makes us human. Caleb might just be the most advanced version of this that the show has put forth so far.  There is an abundance of potential and a desperate flame in my heart to see it fulfilled.

But Westworld has always been exceedingly good at failing to fulfill its promise.

Although aesthetically gorgeous, Westworld has been on a steady narrative decline since its first season.  It occasionally becomes the hollow kind of storytelling that sounds good to the ear, but eventually falls apart when too much time is spent thinking it over. Season two, especially, was downright messy, requiring the undivided attention of its viewers. For some, it’s a draw to analyze every last aspect of the show. For others, a nightmare.