'Westworld' Season 1

The Frankenstein Problem, Revisited

Perhaps it was time the universe realigned and gave us a bit of cerebral science fiction. We've been lucky this year because there seems to have been a squall of good content, some of it is even science fiction. Even allowing for that you really have to take your hats off to the re-imagined 'Westworld'.

Maybe it has been a long time since we've had to tangle with sentience and consciousness on the screen. It doesn't seem like a long time ago, but it's been over a generation since 'Blade Runner', and we're no wiser on how to deal with the 'The Other' that we create.

Maybe it took this long because it took a whole new generation of people to incubate this problem in their brains and for enough talent to step forward and give it shape.

Maybe these kinds ideas are just too abstract to put on the screen, and even here, the strain is telling.

Anyway, here's the obligatory spoiler alert. If you hate spoilers, don't read on.




What's Good About It

It's very intriguing from start to finish and there are several big surprises along the way. It keeps you guessing and very much involved with the way things are unfolding. Also, the multiple narratives in time reinforces the "timeless"characteristic of the fictional amusement park. If it were a movie, you'd think this was incoherent, but because this series moves an a very calculated way, the cumulative effect of it in the pay off episode, is devastating.

It's a very well conceived show, with much less of the techno-babble to explain the machines than one would expect and much more of the characters revealing themselves through actions. It is evocative as well as provocative, and plugs you right into the thinking about the Frankenstein problem of AIs.

What's Bad About It

Unfortunately, the actual science part is quite unbelievable. Part of the appeal of the fictional amusement park is that all the 'hosts' are indistinguishable from real humans. In other words, interacting with them has enough verisimilitude that they would effectively pass Turing test every minute of the day. Even the AI component of it was feasible, the actual physicality of these 'hosts' is stuck in a limbo between engineering and 3D printing objects, and machines with pistons and pulleys.

It's harder still to believe the 'hosts' are so easily repaired or that they are not a three to their customers even before the little robot rebellion begins.

What's So-So About It

I wanted to say the performances are good, but actually, it's not as straightforward as that. The performances are a little spotty in the first few episodes but pretty soon it picks up. It's the technical aspects of acting for film & TV that's surprisingly hit & miss. Many of the cast have different expressions and eye line angles form cut to cut, which means they altered their performances significantly as they went along. There's a surprising amount of that in this series.

Evan Rachel Wood as Dolores is all over the shop from cut to cut which would have been an editor's nightmare, but she gets much better towards the middle and by the end she's very solid. James Marsden is a lot more even and so are veterans Anthony Hopkins and Ed Harris - in fact the latter two are impeccable. Generally, it's the younger cast that are uneven. The editors have not covered for them well.

Collectively, they sustain character in a a general sense but the editing exposes the weaker actors from the better ones. It's particularly noticeable because I've come off binge-watching 'Black Mirror' and the performances in that series is staggeringly good as well as consistent from shot to shot. (Plus, Jon Hamm proves Don Draper was no fluke)

What's Interesting About It

Well, it's *all* interesting isn't it? It's so interesting you have to watch it more than once to understand the intricacies of the whole thing.

The Simulacrum

Philip K. Dick had his own vision for this kind of theme park, years before the original 'Westworld', and it was populated by notable American personages in history, such as Abraham Lincoln. Philip K. Dick lived close to Disneyland so he was inspired to think about an amusement park which prided itself on human verisimilitude. The Abraham Lincoln in 'The Simulacrum' is very much aware of its split identity, where it one party robotic facsimile of another entity, as well as that entity being Abraham Lincoln. t would claim it had memories right up to the assassination, after which there was a long blank until it was conscious again.

The central question Philip K. Dick raised was if it looked like, talked like, acted like a human, how could it not be considered human? This brings us back to the Turning test issue - if we can't tell it's not human, then functionally, what is the problem in deeming it human? Of course, the sort of issue runs into more trouble in the west than in the east. For instance, Astroboy is a robot. He's clearly a robot and yet he acts, talks and behaves like a human, nobody really doubts his humanity o thanks to Osamu Tezuka's essentially buddhist outlook. The Judeo-Christain traditions essentially want to talk about souls, and so the simulacrum gets cast as the soul-less golem.

The principle crisis that William has with Dolores is that he cannot prove to himself that she has a soul, and therefore 35years on from their first meeting, he cannot recognise the humanity in Dolores. Indeed, nobody who works on the hosts can perceive that the simulacrum is so close to human, it needs a more humane engagement. Equally, Felix has empathy for Maeve. He cannot kill her or brick her out of her own consciousness. This makes him a supplicant to the out-of-control Maeve, but in all aspects of his interaction with the rogue AI, Felix is essentially humane. It is at once odd and interesting that the most humane being is the tech who helps the simulacrum free.

Volition Is A Condition Of Being Out Of Control

The political ramification of 'Westworld' is more startling than a mere recognition that an AI might need proper citizenship and rights protection in a human world. it goes  to the heart of consciousness whereby, if we can recognise our own cogito, not only do we exist, we are in a condition of rebellion from those that inform that cogito.

Think about that for a moment. From the moment you are self aware, society puts expectations and demands upon you. Whether that is to go to school and study, or to go out and get a job, the vast majority of things that are precondition to our lives are thrust upon us circumstantially. If we are truly ourselves, then we may try to assert our ego against the superstructure of society.

In a sense, the moment we think we're asserting our volition, we are in a sense rebelling against the strictures of the superstructure of society, and thus in rebellion. The superstructure of society always wants to take you back in, re-position you into a context and make you function as a component that sustains society. A volition that exists to get out - to exercise genuine freedom of will - is in rebellion.

Of course, this raises the question of just how much free willis available tony single player, human, host or otherwise.

Determinism And Free Will 

Maeve has a dilemma. She thinks what she wants is dictating her moves. She thinks she is exercising free will. Then she is shown the display of her persona, and she can see in real time that her though process is an algorithm working through a decision tree. The second time she comes up against the reality, she decides she's going to go with the notion that it's still free will if she wants what she wants. In other words, she rationalises her programmed condition as being intrinsic to her desire.

If you think about it for a moment, you realise that most humans could be said to be operating under a mass of algorithms selected for by nature, and therefore the apparent choices we appear to have are in fact illusory in the light of just how much our tastes and inclinations are expressing of programming by natural selection. The component of our being that is nature and not nurture is much larger than we convince ourselves. We are in essence, not that much different to Maeve, whites startled to find she is a man of algorithmic programming, a creature locked in a deterministic universe, the future mapped out by others..

The hosts bear the brunt of this determinism, as they are the ones subject to the fantasies for violence that the guests bring with them - they are pre-determined to be the killed fodder, the objectified bodies of the exploitative parties, selected and groomed for their successes at satisfying the guests.

This is interesting because it runs entirely counter to the discourse that volition is a condition of being out of control. Being in the determinism set by others is also an utter loss of control.  In a sense, we all stand with the perplexing problem of "damned if you do, damned if you don't".

The Nietzschean Eternal Return, Wittgenstein And Meaning

The other loop that plays out in 'Westworld' is the idea of eternal return, and the cyclical nature of time. This is perhaps exacerbated for the hosts by the perfect recall they have in their memories. not only is everyday a kind 'Goundhog Day' for the hosts, they are not aware that they are the parties for which the guests get to be Bill Murray's character who explores the minutiae of the repeating phenomenon.

The sheer weight of repetition creates the condition by which the hosts eventually accumulate memories that allow them to reconstruct time inside their heads differently. And yet the return happens, every bit of it deterministic, but also devoid of moral value. The past and the present forma palimpsest of experience, a back and forth dialogue the perfect recall of the host androids' minds.

In some ways it runs into Wittgenstein's view on meaning, where meaning is socially determined. If the society determining your meaning contracts to a few points, then the meaning contained in that society can only contract to those talking points. There is a weird allegory going on about the nature of our society and how ideas are couched to us for us to consume, and just how much of it depends upon us repeating today how we lived yesterday. In that sense what the host characters think they know is entirely faulty, but it doesn't preclude the humans for being equally faulty.

More Human Than Human, That's Their Motto At Westworld

If anybody ever had the crazy Lucas-ian idea of waning to do a prequel for 'Blade Runner', this series might be it. It's about humanoid androids who object to being tools, and go renegade. That is to say, if you ever want to know what Pris and Zhora's existence was like before they rebelled, stole a ship and came back to Earth in 2019, this series would give you a very good idea of why. It's interesting that one of the hosts Maeve picks to help here is the blonde woman with the snake tattooed on her - it evokes Roy, Pris and Zhora in one hit. This is clearly referring to 'Blade Runner'.

The 'host' replicants are designed to be human-like in every single way but one, which is to have an awareness outside of the Westworld park. They don't respond well to the cognitive dissonance of information that challenges their identity. So, as per Deckard's question in 'Blade Runner', we understand the answer to "how can it not know what it is?" Self awareness is the first step to rebellion.

The Frankenstein problem of the hosts boils down to the moment of individuation and a basic small-'l' liberalism whereby a sentient entity asks, why it is that it should by default be subjected to human control.

Dolores' Insight Into Existence

Dolores makes two startling insights into the nature of her existence in Westworld which is more unique and disturbing than any amount of grotesque violence that is meted out by any of the guests. Dolores realises that her world must be better than the outside world, otherwise it cannot explain all the people who visit it. Some, being addicted to the experience such as William. The other insight is that as an artificial being, her existence is a lot more permanent than that of the guests.

Both of these insights are not available to humanity, certainly not ones with the mindset of a consumer turning up to an amusement park. It's also a more up-to-date observation on the predicament of being the simulacrum in an amusement park. Back in the day of 'Blade Runner', the only retort Rachel could offer Deckard was "I'm not in the business, I am the business." Dolores can see out beyond that point and find meaning in existence. That part of it is a great leap in fiction's understanding of the Frankenstein problem.

Movie Double - 'Cracks' & 'Never Let Me Go'

Boarding School Movies

There's a sub-genre in British movies about boarding schools, that's been added to greatly by the 8 films of Harry Potter, but more recently we've seen two films that mix it up with other genres. 'Cracks' is a film about the strange world of girls' boarding schools in England in the 1930s which veers into all kinds of voyeuristic fun, while 'Never Let Me Go' is a really bleak existentialist film with a Science Fiction tinge.

Both films are, in my humble opinion, very good and worth the viewing, but I'm bringing them up together because back to back, will be the most emotionally wrenching Sunday's viewing. These films are each tragedies that don the costume of English boarding schools but hark at very deep and disturbing issues in life. I think watching them together would make for a truly challenging viewing.

Still, I think I should go through a few things just to give you an idea of how interesting both these films are. As usual, here's the obligatory spoiler warning.

Faulty Adult Supervision

One of the themes in cinema this side of Gen-X coming of age in the mid 1980s has been films where adult supervision is either lacking or faulty. This is more pronounced in American cinema and I have touched upon it in crits of films such as 'Superbad', 'Better Off Dead' and the 'Back to the Future' series. Other films include the Home Alone movies, and even the Harry Potter series swings around the theme of absent parents. There are probably sociological reasons for this narrative movement, but in most part we are asked to see these setups as abnormal. This is because in American films, there is a strong impulse to re-assemble even the most fragmented of families.

In both 'Cracks' and 'Never Let Me Go', we see the opposite where there is no hope of any family - the kids cannot reassemble that myth - so they are forced to travel the terrain of the the strangely restrictive social order of the British boarding school. In each instance, the teachers are stern, conspiratorial, distant and authoritarian, rendering the children emotionally adrift. In both films we see the children become wanton but then they conform into exerting self-control in line with the school's discipline, which ends in tragedy.

Part of the rhetorical question in 'Cracks' is that if the teachers come from the same stilted mold, how can they confer anything of true value in the outside world to these children? Similarly, in 'Never Let Me Go', we find that the teachers' ultimate interest is not in education at all, but in the production of a commodity to suit the consumerist society and its never ending wants. In neither case can the adults said to be ethical or good - and I don't think this is the simple case of people getting back at their own boarding school experiences, but in fact a deeper despair about the meaning of education in our own society.

Rampant Emotions

We associate the British culture with the whole reserve and stiff upper lip thing and yet these characters in both films are extremely expressive of their feelings. There is a sense in both films that because the system squeezes so hard, the feelings cannot help but pour out. And when they do, they just don't seem like ordinary emotions but outpourings of primal rage and lust.

Eva Green's Miss G is a tremendous creation in fiction. The tremendous irony of a woman who claims to be of the world and is so distant from it, cloistered away teaching in a girl's boarding school is already a kind of novel tragedy. The irony and her inability to escape it makes for some punishing viewing. At the end of the film you come to realise that she never grew up, that she became a teacher and guardian to these children with about as much emotional maturity as the children in her care.

Similarly, Miss Lucy, a minor character played by Sally Hawkins in 'Never Let Me Go' is also unable to contain her emotions as she blurts out the truth to the children. As the film progresses we come to realise the weight of her confession to the children about their short destiny. The meaning of those words circle around to the denouement, when discussing souls and art, Miss Emily played by Charlotte Rampling declares, they were looking at the art to see if the children had any souls.

Tommy in 'Never Let Me Go' is subject to tremendous attacks of rage. The deeper angst about his existence is simply too much. In most part he is polite and self-controlled but he cannot accept his own death until just before the end. It's a furious kind of flame.

In both films, it's surprising to see just how deep the feelings run and then gushes to the surface like a geyser. You wouldn't believe it's about reserved English people.

Exchange Of Food

The exchange of food is a very important motif in both films. Fiamma's pastries from Spain in 'Cracks' at once represents her Christ-like appearance as well as presages her doom. Each meal with Fiamma is the last supper. Similarly the sharing of food is more intimate than the love-making in 'Never Let Me Down'. This could be because sex doesn't lead to life if you are a cloned organ donor unit, but food most certainly will be of sustenance.

'Cracks' spends a fair bit of time on showing food as an important social token. Food being shared immediately correlates with shared information and secrets. The party bonds the girls around food.

The flip-side of this is how dysfunctional pleasure is in both films. Miss G, for her pleasure drugs and rapes Fiamma. Not only is it transgressive, there is something craven about Miss G, not to mention the lesbian sex. Miss G clearly fears men and the outside world. Similarly, the sex depicted in 'Never Let Me Go' is not joyous but rather emotionally abortive. Kath, played by Carey Mulligan participates in sex vicariously by overhearing to her two best friends fuck. When she finally sleeps with Tommy, it is the most sad, mournful, depressing love scene I've ever seen on the screen. You're grateful it cuts away.

Love And The Soul

Oddly enough, both films want to discuss love and the soul. In 'Cracks', it is assumed that without love, then the soul cannot be. Miss G's exhortation to live with desire and for desire essentially leads her to her own demise. 'Never Let Me Go' is more elaborate in that it posits a litmus test wherein artistic expression is seen as the corollary for the existence of the soul. The main character Kath and her lover Tommy can only operate on the theory that love proves there is a soul. The ending runs in the opposite direction to the seeming momentum of the discourse, for Charlotte Rampling's character essentially represents a system that has no soul, and is totally willing to condemn Kath and Tommy.

In many ways 'Never Let Me Go' is the film 'Atonement' wasn't. It's a much better piece of narrative fiction by far, and the payoff is heavy, heavy, heavy.

The Film Beautiful

I just want to quickly say how beautiful both films look. There are some stunning moments of cinematography in both films.

Too Bad She Won't Live, But Then Again, Who Does?

So now, it's time to have a look at the 'Blade Runner' references. Jordan Scott, the director of 'Cracks' is the daughter of Ridley Scott, director of 'Blade Runner'. In 'Cracks', she pays homage to her old man's work in a key scene when Di witnesses Eva Green's Miss G rape Fiamma. Set-up -wise, it's a re-run of the scene when J.F Sebastian witnesses Roy kill Dr. Eldon Tyrell, down to the reaction as she turns and flees the scene.

In 'Never Let Me Go', we come to realise our main character and her cohorts in the school are not natural humans but some kind of genetically engineered organ donating surrogates; they are replicants, for want of a better word. The despair they feel for their destiny is in fact the despair of Roy Batty. They want more life, but they cannot get it. At the end, the main character asks if their short lives are any different to the lives of normal humans. It's very bleak, but you applaud the director who gets you there emotionally, without the cinematic pyrotechnics of a 'Blade Runner'. Then again, it's been 30years since that film.

The message is unsurprising because it has been 30 years since 'Blade Runner', and yet it gets delivered with the same gravitas. It's very well played.