Westworld 1.02: Chestnut
Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy
Richard J. Lewis
I was thinking
of how to approach writing this review of "Chestnut," an intriguing,
and at times frustrating, new episode of Westworld. There is the normal way of writing it, which feels hollow
because it's mostly things and aspects of the show that I like or don't like.
Or there's the method that Vulture employs, which is to ask relevant questions that come
to mind while watching the episode. Make no mistake, those questions are the
sort of necessary step taken in order to deal with a series this dense and
complex.
Westworld isn't straightforward. More importantly, it
isn't interested in proceeding in a straightforward manner as a narrative.
Being that it's only two episodes in, there are bound to be a lot of questions
about the nature of the park, those people inhabiting the park, and what
exactly is going on, with little to no full answers to any of those questions.
So, in part, like another odd and unorthodox show in Mr. Robot, this is a show where a viewer can sit back and
just take in the atmosphere.
Like I wrote my
review for in "The Original," sometimes, it takes another viewing of
the episode to get what the heck is going on. For this episode, it is helpful
to do just that in order to understand how the series works as a whole. What I
found very interesting is that the episode shifts character focus multiple
times within the singular hour. It opens on following William as he is
introduced to how the park works, what to do, and where to go along with his
"friend" and most likely business associate Logan. William functions
as the surrogate for the audience, as he is a first-time guest (while Logan is
a veteran, useful to understand some of the rules and dynamics of the park),
and is unfamiliar with much of how all of Westworld works.
William's story
is, I think, the most straightforward of all the plotlines running through the
episode, which is why it's dropped midway through. William looks like he's
intrigued by the park and its pleasures, but isn't fully engaged. What doesn't
help is that Logan is determined to keep him away from everything but having
sex with the Sweetwater hookers. Even that becomes something William doesn't
enjoy, at least not to the degree that Logan does, and from the audience's
perspective, that's an understandable position given that Clementine is dealing
with a bout of night terrors. He also has someone waiting for him at home,
outside of the park's environs, which dents the impact of their interaction.
The episode then
shifts to following the Man in Black for a bulk of its time. That subplot plays
out in a very odd manner. We find out, rather unsurprisingly, that he has been
in Westworld for more than 30 years, and is intricately familiar with many of
the things it has to offer. This explains why he was so hostile to Dolores and
her father in "The Original" and why he marches through the
Spanish-looking village without any worry as to the notion of getting hurt.
The Man in Black
has apparently been searching for the "deepest level of the park," a
map of which was found underneath the scalp of the host he killed in the last
episode. What is in this level of the park? How long has that been there? Was
it discovered once before, perhaps by Dr. Ford (who has suggested in this
episode that he has been in the park for as long or even longer than the Man in
Black), and hidden away from the Man in Black? You could go crazy wondering
what exactly is going on.
The final act of
the episode mostly focuses on what Maeve goes through within the confines of
the park. The experience is much like what Dolores went through in the previous
episode, although with some minor changes. Maeve is constantly tweaked and
adjusted by the park's maintenance staff, all in an effort to get her more
clients to engage in interactions. If her numbers don't go up, she is at risk
of recall and retirement, much like what happens to Peter Abernathy. Only,
Maeve doesn't completely switch personalities. She experiences dreams of being
a rancher with a daughter, of having been nearly executed by a band of braves,
and in the worst nightmare, waking up in the real world, with two techs working
on her physical body, which has been somehow infected with MRSA.
If the true direction of the series is that the robot hosts eventually, slowly, gains sentience and consciousness of their environment, then the human guests and park staff are in for a rude awakening when their hubris and creation go against them en masse. It's not really clear whether Maeve even remembers what was done to her or her experience in seeing the inner workings of the park, which consist of physical modifications, repairs, behavioral modifications, and QA, which deals with all "defective" hosts. To her, it must be a nightmare come to life, yet how is that any different from the dreams and visions she and Clementine (and no doubt, other hosts) experience in the various parts of Westworld?
- Interesting exploration of how clients deal with long-term existence in Westworld differently
- The layers to the park itself are a fitting metaphor for the series as a whole
- Will the audience have patience to let the unconventional storytelling play out?
Flaco_Jones
CONCURRING OPINION