Westworld (Season 1)

[Milky Joe]

I'd have to reference it again, but the prostitutes in Deadwood were basically slaves, objects, and had been doing it from childhood. Outside of Trixie (?), there weren't any that were explored..

You can't forget Joanie Stubbs! Joanie and Trixie's differing experiences as prostitutes, including the relationships to their respective pimps and the way they work their way out of that position, is very well explored by the show.

Westworld ain't no fuckin' Deadwood but it is pretty cool.

[Watashi]

Westworld is a completely different show than Deadwood and has had two episodes so far. Outside of the setting, I don't know why we are comparing the two.

[Spinal]

Westworld is a completely different show than Deadwood and has had two episodes so far. Outside of the setting, I don't know why we are comparing the two.

Yeah, it seems that would be a really bad point of comparison since Deadwood is intended to be a gritty, warts-and-all Western, while Westworld's environment is a futuristic amusement park.

[Watashi]

This show is definitely filling in my LOST void from many years back. It's going to be bumpy no doubt, but I love the teases, heavy biblical metaphors, and endless watercooler theories. There's already people saying William is Ed Harris's Man in Black.

How expensive is this show? The budget has to be bigger than Game of Thrones, right?

[Winston*]

Yeah, it seems that would be a really bad point of comparison since Deadwood is intended to be a gritty, warts-and-all Western, while Westworld's environment is a futuristic amusement park.

That was my point. The future theme park one is much quicker to go to the sexual assault well than the one actually set in the old west.

[Spinal]

Sometimes I post useless observations. Thanks for your time.

[Ezee E]

This show is definitely filling in my LOST void from many years back. It's going to be bumpy no doubt, but I love the teases, heavy biblical metaphors, and endless watercooler theories. There's already people saying William is Ed Harris's Man in Black.

How expensive is this show? The budget has to be bigger than Game of Thrones, right?

I really hope (and also don't see it) that William is the Man In Black in an earlier timeline. I don't see any reason why the show would have to show prior history. Plus, the two don't look alike AT ALL.

But yeah, that's part of why I'm liking the show so much as well.

[Ezee E]

Sometimes I post useless observations. Thanks for your time.

ONE PASS. BUt that's final!

[Watashi]

I really hope (and also don't see it) that William is the Man In Black in an earlier timeline. I don't see any reason why the show would have to show prior history. Plus, the two don't look alike AT ALL.

But yeah, that's part of why I'm liking the show so much as well.

Ed Harris said in an interview that his character has a backstory and would be shown in and out of the park.

[Ezee E]

Ed Harris said in an interview that his character has a backstory and would be shown in and out of the park.

Doh. Well, I'll hope there's a good reasoning behind it if that ends up being the case.

[Spinal]

The reveal is that Ed Harris's movies all take place in the same universe and he is actually a wealthy role-playing tourist in all of them.

[Winston*]

The reveal is that Ed Harris's movies all take place in the same universe and he is actually a wealthy role-playing tourist in all of them.

Radioworld was suprisingly unprofitable.

[Winston*]

Man, the Ed Harris-verse is going to amuse me for the rest of the day.

[Irish]

Vulture listed a bunch of fan theories: http://www.vulture.com/2016/10/westw...es-so-far.html

The first one is "The Man in Black is William."

This theory rests on the idea that we’re watching multiple timelines in the second episode of Westworld, but don't realize it because the hosts look the same 30 years ago as they do today.

It doesn't match up, though.

About a third of the way into the second episode, the camera shows lab techs observing the Man in Black from a tablet. Somebody asks the security chief dude (Luke Hemsworth) about him, and Hemsworth replies, "That gentlemen gets whatever he wants." (This is, IIRC, the only time Harris' scenes are intercut with scenes from outside the park.)

So Hemsworth and the Ed Harris would have to be in the same timeline, right? Except Hemsworth already had scenes with Jeffrey Wright and Sidse Babett Knudsen, who are both human and presumably living in the present.

For the theory to hold, any explanation would be silly or senseless. (Everybody on the show is a robot except for Jimmi Simpson! Everything from the corporate side takes place 30 years into the future!) I could see jerking the audience a bit for fun, but not when it creates zero suspense and contains limited dramatic payoff.

[Spinal]

Man, the Ed Harris-verse is going to amuse me for the rest of the day.

I'm thinking I could probably get some beta test of Pollockworld up and running in my backyard by the end of the month.

[number8]

Westworld itself is actually part of The Truman Show.

[Watashi]

I mean, we're only two episodes in. Two episodes into LOST people were jumping on the Purgatory bandwagon and guessing what the Smoke Monster was.

[Gittes]

About a third of the way into the second episode, the camera shows lab techs observing the Man in Black from a tablet. Somebody asks the security chief dude (Luke Hemsworth) about him, and Hemsworth replies, "That gentlemen gets whatever he wants." (This is, IIRC, the only time Harris' scenes are intercut with scenes from outside the park.)

So Hemsworth and the Ed Harris would have to be in the same timeline, right? Except Hemsworth already had scenes with Jeffrey Wright and Sidse Babett Knudsen, who are both human and presumably living in the present.

For the theory to hold, any explanation would be silly or senseless. (Everybody on the show is a robot except for Jimmi Simpson! Everything from the corporate side takes place 30 years into the future!) I could see jerking the audience a bit for fun, but not when it creates zero suspense and contains limited dramatic payoff.

I've been trying not to interject into the discussion for a bit so as to give other voices a chance, but I'm curious about this point, and no one else has asked. How does any of this disprove the idea that William, who is played by Jimmi Simpson, is actually the Man in Black in a flashback? Did Bernard (Wright) or Theresa (Knudsen) or Ashley (Hemsworth) interact with William in any way? I'm not being dismissively skeptical here. I'm actually wondering if I missed something?

Anyway, the thing that makes this theory dubious to me is this: if it's true, certain narrative details have endured from William's first entry into Westworld right up until he becomes the Man in Black. The emphasis on Dolores' errant can, for instance, and the specific staging at the beginning of the "in-game" scenario — all of this is present at both points of the story. This seems like the kind of stuff that would have been overwritten over the years, given the returning customers.

[Irish]

How does any of this disprove the idea that William, who is played by Jimmi Simpson, is actually the Man in Black in a flashback?

It doesn't. It only demonstrates that the Man in Black's timeline is the same as everybody else's.

But the end of the episode uses traditional film grammar to imply that Simpson is in the present day. There's a crosscut between Hopkin's big monologue during the corporate story conference and Simpson interacting with Dolores in the street. Hopkin's delivery is used as an audio bridge between the shots, and his words are a thematic callback to a moment earlier in the episode.

That type of edit means that events are happening simultaneously, or, depending on point of view, that the two characters are related in some way. (If the cut represents a flashback, it's the memory of the person speaking.)

If Simpson exists only in the past, and he's not connected to Hopkins, that edit doesn't play fair with the audience. I can't see the producer subverting technique for a cheap narrative trick.

[Peng]

If I remember correctly, the whole season costs $100 millions, with the first episode alone $25 millions.

[Gittes]

It doesn't. It only demonstrates that the Man in Black's timeline is the same as everybody else's.

Sure, yeah, but…that has nothing to do with the theory? I thought your post was about that (because you quoted the theory, said it doesn't match up, and then went on to talk about Hemsworth observing Ed Harris, which doesn't disprove the theory in any way). I'm basically with you, though. I'm skeptical of the theory, but for different reasons.

That type of edit means that events are happening simultaneously, or, depending on point of view, that the two characters are related in some way. (If the cut represents a flashback, it's the memory of the person speaking.)

I'll try to be less wall of text-y here, but pithiness will probably elude me. I mean, most of what you said is certainly what you'd find in an entry-level film studies textbook, so it's hard to quibble with those individual points (although, one could make a pedantic distinction and suggest that what we're seeing in Westworld is a kind of covert parallel editing, which does not entail simultaneity).

However, to state the obvious, those aren't inflexible rules that invariably account for every instance of crosscutting. Examples that demonstrate flexibility: Soviet Montage stuff like October, Stephen Daldry's The Hours, Saw II, the bit involving the two houses in Silence of the Lambs, etc. I can't recall specific examples, but I'm sure there are especially radical instances in some of Apichatpong Weerasethakul's movies. There's another instance from a TV show, but it's a huge spoiler, so I'll refrain from noting it.

It's OK — great, actually — to allow filmmakers a little leverage to operate outside of strict aesthetic conventions. It's not a matter of "unfairness" if they're trying to encourage the viewer to independently consider Harris and Simpson before disclosing that their characters are one and the same (this could generate interesting results, in terms of sympathy and understanding, which would otherwise have been obviated if they revealed the connection right away).

If Simpson exists only in the past, and he's not connected to Hopkins, that edit doesn't play fair with the audience.

Well, given that simultaneity and specific memories are in no way the necessary result of crosscutting, I'd say this isn't true. The connection with Hopkins does exist, though, but it's abstract at this point, and that's fine. That thematic link is the one of the few unequivocal connections between the two sides that we are given. If it turns out that we're seeing two different time periods, I don't understand why any of this would be unfair. The salient takeaway from that scene is that Hopkins' words find an intriguing exemplar in William. Rather than simply show us this first meeting between Dolores and William, and rely solely on Simpson and Wood's body language to convey their interest in each other, they chose to accentuate this through Ford's dialogue. These two sides complement each other.

This allows for a more dynamic expression of the ideas at hand: Fords' words add poignant shading to the nascent affection between Dolores and Williams, while also creating a link between William and Ford's starry-eyed conception of an ideal Westworld customer. This latter connection would certainly become more interesting if it's used to underline how Ford's aspirations must necessarily abut against humanity's unseemly propensities. Indeed, many of the customers seem to be visiting the park for the "garish" thrills that elicited Hopkins' contempt, and there'd be an obvious level of tragedy to finding out that his ideal customer — the person that embodies his more romantic notion of the park — ends up turning into the pathetic character that we see in Ed Harris.

[Irish]

Sure, yeah, but…that has nothing to do with the theory?

Because there's two ways to look at it. One is that Ed Harris is 30 years in the future. The other is that Jimmi Simpson is 30 years in the past. Originally, I only sought to explain that Harris shares the same timeline as the human characters in the corporate office.

Well, given that simultaneity and memory are in no way the necessary result of crosscutting, I'd say this isn't true.

Usually crosscutting implies concurrent action. I don't know how else to argue that, because it's easily verifiable with a couple of Google searches.

We're not talking small films, arthouse films, experimental films, or foreign films. We're talking mainstream American television, which tends to be as creatively conservative as you can get.

the bit involving the two houses in Silence of the Lambs, etc.

Here is that scene.

Demme fools the audience into thinking both shots happen in the same space because he cuts from the inside of one house to the outside of another. But there's never any doubt that they happen at the same time.

Unlike the Westworld example, there's also no audio bridge between them. I mentioned the bridge because they're usually employed to hide brusque edits or underline specific connections between scenes.

[Gittes]

Because there's two ways to look at it. One is that Ed Harris is 30 years in the future. The other is that Jimmi Simpson is 30 years in the past. Originally, I only sought to explain that Harris shares the same timeline as the human characters in the corporate office.

I'm sorry, but I have no clue what you're talking about. Am I missing something? How are there two ways to look at it when the theory you claimed to be addressing does not involve assuming the Man in Black doesn't exist in the present along with the characters in the corporate office? The MiB's existence in the present is a necessary prerequisite to this theory, is it not? Your observation supports the theory, or at least doesn't contradict it.

Usually crosscutting implies concurrent action. I don't know how else to argue that, because it's easily verifiable with a couple of Google searches.

I already accepted that these are some of the established functions for cross-cutting. With this comment, it seems like you glided over the details of my point by referring to a general truth. That response is the issue in miniature. I'm talking about exceptions and the wiggle room for deviations and different uses.

What we know for certain is that the connective tissue in the scene in question is thematic. Let's wait for other evidence before claiming that the theory is absolutely wrong, or that the cross-cutting absolutely conveys "this" rather than "that."

We're talking mainstream American television

Would it really be that radical a move for many popular shows, let alone something that is beyond the sensibilities of an HBO drama? Come on. One of HBO's most popular shows concluded in a manner that now figures as one of the most well-known instances of repudiated convention. Either way, the cross-cutting that we see in the second episode of Westworld isn't an unequivocal signal of temporal synchronicity. You're forgetting something that has been closely considered by others (probably most lucidly by Bordwell): watching anything involves a shifting array of assumptions and expectations, which we constantly reevaluate as we're given new information. Nothing may come of this theory, but, at this point, I can understand why others think it's logical (especially given the careful — and, perhaps, suspicious — deployment of William in the second episode).

Comments about how certain things are necessarily beyond the purview of a popular show should be tempered. On a related note, NBC recently debuted This Is Us, whose first episode — spoilers — involves some notable temporal shenanigans. I have only read about it, so no clue if there's cross-cutting (there's certainly unmarked shifts between multiple scenes that some might assume exist in the same time period; it's later revealed that this is not the case).

Unpredictable creative maneuvers can and do crop up in popular television. See: Louie, various aspects of Lost, much of Atlanta so far, the reverse chronology found in the Seinfeld episode, "The Betrayal," Buffy's musical episode, The Simpsons' "22 Short Films About Springfield," etc.

which tends to be as creatively conservative as you can get.

See my points above.

I see no compelling reason to dismiss the prospect of different styles as something that is outside the realm of possibility. There are other ways to think about this that doesn't involve a flattened conception of American television as "creatively conservative."

People have noted the discrepancy between the Westworld logo in the scenes with William and those that we've seen elsewhere — they're suggesting this is groundwork being laid for the eventual revelation. We'll see. If the writers are trying to enact that kind of experiment, then I highly doubt they wouldn't think of using cross-cutting in an unconventional way. If people do read it as a temporal sign, the writers' bases are covered because that's never made explicit. Plus, it helps to disguise the impending reveal. The principal thing, at this point, is that the cross-cutting allowed them to juxtapose Ford's words with Dolores and William's first meeting.

Here is that scene.

Can't watch it (I'm not a fan of linking to scenes from movies that have been uploaded by random people on YouTube in unsanctioned ways). As for your point, that's all clear. I never argued that this example involves temporal discontinuity. I was trying to demonstrate formal flexibility — there, Demme and Craig McKay use crosscutting toward deceptive and unique ends. In some of the other examples, like The Hours, temporal simultaneity isn't a factor at all. I'm trying to demonstrate wiggle room.

Unlike the Westworld example, there's also no audio bridge between them. I mentioned the bridge because they're usually employed to hide brusque edits or underline specific connections between scenes.

Sound bridges can be used to link scenes that are temporally distinct. The sound bridge facilitates a connection in this case, yes — so far, we have an association of ideas rather than a guaranteed temporal link.

[Irish]

Comments about how certain things are necessarily beyond the purview of a popular show should be tempered.

Unpredictable creative maneuvers can and do crop up in popular television. See: Louie, various aspects of Lost, much of Atlanta so far, the reverse chronology found in the Seinfeld episode, "The Betrayal," Buffy's musical episode, The Simpsons' "22 Short Films About Springfield," etc.

Those are all good examples, but they're more narratively experimental than formally experimental.

A few of them were absolutely hated by their audiences. They're also all recent. With the exception of Atlanta, every one of them occurred on a show that had already well established its characters, scenarios, and settings. They didn't start fooling around in the second episode. (The only program I can think of that did was Twin Peaks, but it did it gently.)

This is a ~60 year old medium that's often dumbed down because it is desperate to get the widest possible audience. All the time and every time. It doesn't often allow for experimentation or formal exercises. There is no Godard in television, no Brakhage. There isn't even an Antonioni or Malick. The commercial demands don't allow it.

Your argument seems to revolve around the ideas that (1) we don't have enough information to know for sure and (2) it's within the realm of all possibility that Westworld is doing something wildly creative.

Sure, I guess? That's true. But I think it's also unlikely, for the reason I've mentioned.

[Gittes]

So, no comment on what you were talking about w/r/t your Ed Harris observation? I wasn't feigning confusion. I'm actually curious about what you meant; it's still not clear to me.

For the theory to hold, any explanation would be silly or senseless. (Everybody on the show is a robot except for Jimmi Simpson! Everything from the corporate side takes place 30 years into the future!) I could see jerking the audience a bit for fun, but not when it creates zero suspense and contains limited dramatic payoff.

^^ That doesn't make sense, either.

Those are all good examples, but they're more narratively experimental than formally experimental.

It doesn't often allow for experimentation or formal exercises.

All of those involve formal deviation to some degree. Narrative is inflected by, and doled out via, form.

Everything in the Buffy episode, for instance, necessarily required new set-ups and fluctuations in the style of direction. Lost used crosscutting in a deceptive way in one of its most lauded episodes. The Sopranos' infamous ending was a bold formal maneuver, and now seems to be routinely celebrated as such, despite the pronounced divisiveness it elicited at first. One of Seinfeld's boldest strategies was a second season episode ("The Chinese Restaurant") which helped to change the way people think about forward momentum and the usual alternation of settings and locales in television. Consider Community's various experiments. Roseanne also went to some interesting places, to say the least. There's lots of stuff about Mr. Robot's first season — let alone its second — that's not exactly by-the-numbers storytelling. There's the "Who Done It" episode of Dallas and the whole "Who shot J.R.?" mystery which it concluded. Also, Louie cast Amy Landecker as Louie's mother in two episodes, and then cast her as a completely different, love interest character: both of these show up in the first season. Reboot detonated so much of its familiar basis in the third season. Then you have the many ways in which shows like The Twilight Zone and Columbo and Hillstreet Blues and 24 and Curb Your Enthusiasm and Girls and Veep and Mad Men felt bracing and relatively novel from the get-go (this applies to some of the aforementioned shows, too, of course — like Seinfeld). Unpredictability and change is part of the equation (with TTZ, that's mostly a hunch, as I've only seen a handful of episodes, and I haven't seen Columbo, but I'm mentioning it because of what I've read about it — ditto for Hillstreet Blues).

I realize I'm stretching beyond strictly formal parameters in some of the above cases, but that's because you can make a larger claim about deviation and possibility in television (which includes and exceeds formal strategies).

An unusual use of crosscutting in an HBO drama is not as unlikely as you're trying to claim — it wouldn't even necessarily be that radical. Also, your insistence on reading cross-cutting in only one way is odd, given that there's a precedent for the unusual (and, sometimes, deceptive) juxtaposition of different periods. I already addressed this but you seem to either skip over or downplay the bits that contradict your argument.

A few of them were absolutely hated by their audiences.

OK.

They're also all recent.

OK.

With the exception of Atlanta, every one of them occurred on a show that had already well established its characters, scenarios, and settings. They didn't start fooling around in the second episode. (The only program I can think of that did was Twin Peaks, but it did it gently.)

The show still being in a formative moment of self-definition lends credence to this idea; it does not really contest it. Then you have the many examples of deviated conventions that I already noted, but which, of course, you're eager to downplay by saying stuff like "the audience didn't like some of those!" All of the stuff I mentioned is beloved by many.

As for the point about doing so "gently," I haven't seen Twin Peaks, but I wonder if that matches other perspectives. I think some temporal trickery in an HBO show would not precipitate some kind of spectatorial crisis because it actually wouldn't be that radical, relative to other televisual transgressions...

Pithy summary of my point: The scenario suggested by the theory is borne out by details in the episode — like the conspicuous way William's scenes are demarcated — and by a precedent in American television, which is more protean than you seem to want to admit. The crosscutting thing is not as farfetched or decidedly unlikely as you seem to be forcefully asserting.

We don't even know what this show is yet (in an extensive, many-episodes-in sort of way) but you're eager to declaim from on high about what it most certainly is or, at the very least, ought to be. Since this thread started, it has often felt like you came into this wanting to hate it. And I'm not sure if you're confusing detached, reductive bits of cynicism as "hot take" insights.

All the time and every time.

I'm sorry, but: facile.

There is no Godard in television, no Brakhage. There isn't even an Antonioni or Malick. The commercial demands don't allow it.

This...has no real bearing on what we're discussing: a deceptive or misleading bit of cross-cutting. It's not "unfair," either (to return to your original claim). Besides, audiences are more resilient than you're giving them credit for. Again, you seem to be reaching toward less persuasive or relevant points, perhaps due to an overzealous allegiance to your argument.

Your argument seems to revolve around the ideas that (1) we don't have enough information to know for sure and (2) it's within the realm of all possibility that Westworld is doing something wildly creative.

I'm arguing against an overemphatic notion that this is especially unlikely. You seem to side-step details or downplay them in unpersuasive ways ("those shows ranging from the 90s throughout the 2000s are recent examples!"...and Westworld isn't recent?) when they don't fit perfectly into what strikes me as being, at least partly, a wafer-thin assessment of televised storytelling. I offered specific details from the episode itself, referred to an array of other formal and narrative deviations, and used these and other points to resist your narrow conception of aesthetic and narrative possibility in American television. You're irritated by me or my arguments, that much seems clear, but the reluctance to extend an actual olive branch of understanding about any of this makes for a tiresome discussion.

I sometimes wonder if you're so eager to adopt the fiduciary, profit-minded perspective of a studio head that you find yourself reflexively launching into these dreary, negative, "inside baseball" hot takes. Like, I honestly would be fascinated to see you discuss a Malick movie in terms of the sensory experience and the formlessness of the thing — not saying you couldn't do it, of course, but seeing that from you would be like a breath of fresh air. Some of your oft-repeated views can feel stifling.

But I think it's also unlikely, for the reason I've mentioned.

Is this the part where I say that I think we're not dealing with the kind of unlikeliness that you forcefully noted, for the reasons that I mentioned? Setting aside your aversion to the very idea that weird cross-cutting might come up in an HBO show, your earlier basis for mistrusting the theory ("everyone would have to be a robot!") doesn't even appear to make sense.

Some of your comments can appear close-minded and prescriptive. Take, for instance, your earlier remarks about the protagonist in episode 2 — that, to me, suggests anxious wonderings about what will work for audiences, as if you're at a shareholders meeting at Time Warner and you're coldly reviewing HBO's upcoming slate.

The idea of complaining that Westworld reduces the screen time for its ostensible protagonist in the second episode (which, by the way, ignores the fact that she is singlehandedly the catalyst for a great deal of the developments and action in said episode) left me feeling like this: