Westworld: In Regard to the Meaning of Life

The best stories make us feel seen. They pick us out of a crowd, hold a mirror up to our convoluted selves, and beg us to behold that highly coveted, rarely understood Human Experience. The best stories exceed beyond just their narration, their characterization, or their view count, opting to instead prioritize those questions that fester as the base of our stomachs: those of humanity, of choice, of growth.

HBO’s Westworld is a case study in art as a means of answering mankind’s deep down soulful quandaries. Through a carefully calculated plot and a cast of thoughtful characters, this show is able to dive into questions of freewill, morality, and sentience in a way that can only be matched by some of the greats. Androids are used to depict human emotion. Humans are used to depict programming and destiny. Twist after twist continuously reveals a more profound understanding of the story and the messages within it. Just when you think this show has said everything it needs to say, it turns around, flips you the bird, and shows you an entirely new perspective.

Westworld is dense. It is at once the show’s greatest strength and its greatest weakness.

I’m a big believer that if a story can’t be understood on the first watch, read, listen, etc, then it is not a very good story (some of you will disagree with me, probably with protests of Shutter Island or Sixth Sense, and that’s fine). Westworld avoids this trap, but only barely.  It is not a background show—it is a full attention, finger on the rewind button, don’t even eat popcorn or you’ll miss something show. All it takes is one trip to the bathroom for a person to run fully off the rails of understanding. Even if you do maintain perfect attendance, there will likely still be storylines and motivations that you don’t fully understand. Between the complex themes, the reliance on metaphor, the intermingled timelines, and the truly massive cast, this show is not for the faint of heart. It takes some commitment, and maybe even a few line charts.

It’s convoluted. There’s no getting around it. This show is messy in nature.

That being said, it isn’t a disorganized chaos. It’s messy for a reason. This story uses up every inch of itself. Nothing is purposeless. Nothing is accidental. Each and every half-second of this show is used towards the greater theme of humanity, even if the view isn’t always sure how. The confusion is intentional, used as a tool to increase intrigue in a way that is comparable to The Matrix or Lost. Viewers don’t know what’s going on, until they do, and then they’re asked to question everything they knew to be true. Then, in turn, they are forced to ask if any other truths might soon be overturned, and they have to watch to find out.

It’s clever. It’s sophisticated. And it’s designed for an often under served logic-driven viewership.  If you prefer stories that act more like puzzles, then Westworld is going to be exactly up your alley. If not, this one isn’t for you.

Each piece of this story lends itself to those bigger questions. Right and wrong. Fate and freewill. Maybe Westworld doesn’t uncover the meaning of life, but it sure as hell tries its best.