Westworld Wednesdays: If you can’t tell, why does it matter?

I didn’t go to work yesterday, due to still barely being able to breath after monster cold and I decided to watch the four episodes of Westworld, because I realized I could no longer willfully ignore this show.

Also, I still have come up with a replacement for One Tree Hill rewatch and “Westworld Wednesday” sounds really good, and it buys me six weeks to figure out my next project. (I was serious about the witches by the way, I’m torn between Charmed and Sabrina The Teenage Witch at the moment)

Anyway, Westworld, as a show, I was skeptical about. I love the original movie, which I remember being terrified of as a child. But, I had, well, have a thing for Yul Brynner, (Shall we dance, etc, etc, etc…) and we’re a Michael Crichton house. (Jurrassic Park ER were important to us, and I’ve never seen Sphere because it is apparently an abomination of the wonderful book, this according to my father and brother.) So, I watched it anyway, quite a few times.

Also deeply heady sci-fi has never quite been my thing, the only HBO drama to ever really grab me was Game Of Thrones, (I mean, Newsroom, I guess, but that barely counts because Sorkin.) Anyway, I knew that I could no longer ignore this show. And yes that might be because The Mary Sue is covering it.

Anyway, I’m glad I watched. This show is incredible.  It’s slow and intense and bright and the performances and design are extraordinary and Anthony Hopkins is there.

But mostly the writing. Oh, I am a SLUT for this show’s writing. (If slut weren’t an inherently sexist term used to rob women of sexual agency, you know.) It plays with narrative on like six levels that I can think of at the moment. And hey, I already have an OTP that the show tells me is doomed, like by design, but I can’t stop my horrible shipping brain from rooting for them. (The ship is Dolores/Teddy, by the way, Doleddy? We’ll work on it…) Seriously, I just want those crazy robot kids to get their sentience together and run away and have robot babies. It doesn’t hurt that they’re played by Evan Rachel Wood and James Marsden and there’s just so much pretty there, but I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY.

Which brings me to Westworld and it’s whole fulfill your fantasies thing. As a shipper, I feel deeply ignored by this narrative. There is no mechanism in Westworld for shippers. I feel like this is a grievous oversight. I want some overeager 20 something woman who follows Dolores and Teddy around clapping her hands and chanting “kiss, kiss, kiss” at them. Also Maeve and Hector, who are equally awesome. (I don’t actually want this, it wouldn’t fit with the show at all, but I hope you take my point…)

Anyway, let’s move on to Ed Harris as The Man In Black, a malevolent guest who’s been going to Westworld for 30 years and is specifically dressed and initially behaves like Yul Brenner in the original movie. (IS A PUZZLEMENT! Last King and I reference, at least this week…) But he’s trying to figure out WHAT IT ALL MEANS, which is great, because Ed Harris is great.

Overall, I’m invested, and I promise these posts will be less rambly and overview-ish in the future, and hey, maybe I’ll even go back and do the first four episodes one by one at some, when I miss this show a whole lot.

But first I’ll probably watch the movie again, because I haven’t seen it since I was like 12.

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