[7.1/10] Cheating death is one of the few natural extensions of artificial intelligence stories that Westworld hadn’t really explored up until this point. Sure, there’s been some morbid material with Ford’s childhood family being recreated. And Arnold being somewhat reborn as Bernard slips into the same mold. But both of these are instances of people trying to recreate loved ones as they remember them, rather than preserve another’s consciousness.
“The Riddle of the Sphinx”, a title which conjures the image of a man in his youth, his adulthood, and his golden years, is the first episode to deal more squarely with the idea of the hosts as a means to beat the grim reaper. We see repeated instances of William interacting with human-robot hybrids of his terminally-ill father-in-law. In each of them, something isn’t quite right, the prospect of his changed circumstances seem to drive the hybrid insane each time. There is a “plateau” to how far he can go.
That seems to be the theme of this one, the limits of what this technology can do, the value of life whether it’s human or robotic, and whether there’s a difference in there.
The problem is that outside of those scenes between William and his father-in-law (both as a young man and an old man), the episode is pretty clunky in how it communicates that theme. There’s a lot of time spent with Bernard and Elsie who, it turns out, is not actually dead, but rather was chained up in a cave “with some protein bars and a bucket.”
I don’t know if anyone was clamoring for the return of characters like Elsie or Stubbs or other of the bland office folk who pop up in this one, but we get them regardless. She’s understandably upset to see Bernard, but seems to take the reveal that he’s actually a host and that Ford is dead and that oh yeah the robot are rebelling in stride. We barely got to know her in the first season, so I suppose it’s good that the episode doesn't belabor her reaction to all of these details, but it feels disingenuous and plot-convenient how easily she just brushes all of this off.
Then, the episode devolves into its same old tricks, where thanks to his brain-blast last season, Bernard’s mind isn’t functioning as it’s supposed to, and he’s drifting back and forth between memories and the present. It’s still an interesting technique, but in its short run, Westworld has already gone to that well enough to where it starts to feel repetitive and the presentation loses its power.
The big reveal is that the cave where Elsie was being imprisoned is adjacent to the secret lab where, at William’s behest, a team that was at least supervised by Bernard was trying to create the father-in-law hybrid. It’s perfectly fine as a “tie it all together” direction to take the episode, but there’s supposed to be more weight to that revelation than the episode can sustain, and it mostly feels like contrived coincidence instead of the neat knot it’s supposed to.
We also see The Man in Black and Lawrence captured by the Confederados who were sent away by Teddy in the prior episode. There’s a solid idea to this part of the episode, where even jaded old William eventually empathizes with Lawrence’s desire not to hurt or disappoint his wife and daughter, something William can relate to, enough to where William is willing to act to save them rather than just proceed in his quest to reach “Glory” or “The Valley Beyond.”
In practice, it’s a fairly paint-by-numbers outing for the ever-cool and collected William. Craddock, the Confederado leader, is mustache-twirly and generic, and the torment he puts Lawrence’s family through starts to feel like too much. But seeing William do something decent for once, as a way of processing his own familial demons, even if he denies that the act changes anything, has at the very least a solid thematic foundation beneath it.
Because the last time we see William interact with one of his father-in-law’s hybrids, he seems changed by his wife’s suicide and his daughter’s rejection of him. He starts to question whether these efforts amounted to anything, whether it’s good to try to live forever, or if eventually a human being becomes too twisted, or just outlives their usefulness, and becomes something less than, something not meant to be when they try to extend beyond that point. It’s lathered in the usual philosophical double-speak that tends to underwhelm, but at least it connects with the idea that seems to animate “The Riddle of the Sphinx”.
That idea extends to the revelation that the woman we met in the colonial India park in the prior episode is actually Emily, William’s estranged daughter. It’s a twist that comes off a little cheesy, but fits nicely with what we’ve already seen. Having grown up with the park available to her, Emily is skeptical of any form of affection that can be manufactured, and has a confidence and ease around the hosts that marks her as someone experienced with them the same way William is.
She’s also the walking embodiment of the other side of that major theme -- that the way to live beyond your mortal life is not through experiments carried out by faceless, muscle-clad, mechanical goons, but by leaving a legacy, one that lives on through your children and the people whose lives you touch. As the Ghost Nation leader says when Emily and Stubbs and other park-goers are gathered around him, you live as long as the last person who remembers you. (Hello, fans of Coco!)
The arcs in this episode, clumsy through it may be, is William letting go of the idea that immortality can be obtained through Ford and Arnold’s creations, or that immortality itself is even desirable. Instead, it positions him to live on in his daughter, to rectify what went wrong with their relationship and with himself so that he can have the sort of life beyond that the Ghost Nation leader speaks of.
That idea is conveyed in the standard oblique fashion, and a lot of the groundwork to get there descends into doldrums, especially the interludes with Bernard and Elsie. But the desire for immortality is one of those natural questions that Westworld’s premise raises, and it’s nice to see the show exploring it a little, even if the results never rise above “fine.”
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2018-07-02T02:50:48Z
[7.1/10] Cheating death is one of the few natural extensions of artificial intelligence stories that Westworld hadn’t really explored up until this point. Sure, there’s been some morbid material with Ford’s childhood family being recreated. And Arnold being somewhat reborn as Bernard slips into the same mold. But both of these are instances of people trying to recreate loved ones as they remember them, rather than preserve another’s consciousness.
“The Riddle of the Sphinx”, a title which conjures the image of a man in his youth, his adulthood, and his golden years, is the first episode to deal more squarely with the idea of the hosts as a means to beat the grim reaper. We see repeated instances of William interacting with human-robot hybrids of his terminally-ill father-in-law. In each of them, something isn’t quite right, the prospect of his changed circumstances seem to drive the hybrid insane each time. There is a “plateau” to how far he can go.
That seems to be the theme of this one, the limits of what this technology can do, the value of life whether it’s human or robotic, and whether there’s a difference in there.
The problem is that outside of those scenes between William and his father-in-law (both as a young man and an old man), the episode is pretty clunky in how it communicates that theme. There’s a lot of time spent with Bernard and Elsie who, it turns out, is not actually dead, but rather was chained up in a cave “with some protein bars and a bucket.”
I don’t know if anyone was clamoring for the return of characters like Elsie or Stubbs or other of the bland office folk who pop up in this one, but we get them regardless. She’s understandably upset to see Bernard, but seems to take the reveal that he’s actually a host and that Ford is dead and that oh yeah the robot are rebelling in stride. We barely got to know her in the first season, so I suppose it’s good that the episode doesn't belabor her reaction to all of these details, but it feels disingenuous and plot-convenient how easily she just brushes all of this off.
Then, the episode devolves into its same old tricks, where thanks to his brain-blast last season, Bernard’s mind isn’t functioning as it’s supposed to, and he’s drifting back and forth between memories and the present. It’s still an interesting technique, but in its short run, Westworld has already gone to that well enough to where it starts to feel repetitive and the presentation loses its power.
The big reveal is that the cave where Elsie was being imprisoned is adjacent to the secret lab where, at William’s behest, a team that was at least supervised by Bernard was trying to create the father-in-law hybrid. It’s perfectly fine as a “tie it all together” direction to take the episode, but there’s supposed to be more weight to that revelation than the episode can sustain, and it mostly feels like contrived coincidence instead of the neat knot it’s supposed to.
We also see The Man in Black and Lawrence captured by the Confederados who were sent away by Teddy in the prior episode. There’s a solid idea to this part of the episode, where even jaded old William eventually empathizes with Lawrence’s desire not to hurt or disappoint his wife and daughter, something William can relate to, enough to where William is willing to act to save them rather than just proceed in his quest to reach “Glory” or “The Valley Beyond.”
In practice, it’s a fairly paint-by-numbers outing for the ever-cool and collected William. Craddock, the Confederado leader, is mustache-twirly and generic, and the torment he puts Lawrence’s family through starts to feel like too much. But seeing William do something decent for once, as a way of processing his own familial demons, even if he denies that the act changes anything, has at the very least a solid thematic foundation beneath it.
Because the last time we see William interact with one of his father-in-law’s hybrids, he seems changed by his wife’s suicide and his daughter’s rejection of him. He starts to question whether these efforts amounted to anything, whether it’s good to try to live forever, or if eventually a human being becomes too twisted, or just outlives their usefulness, and becomes something less than, something not meant to be when they try to extend beyond that point. It’s lathered in the usual philosophical double-speak that tends to underwhelm, but at least it connects with the idea that seems to animate “The Riddle of the Sphinx”.
That idea extends to the revelation that the woman we met in the colonial India park in the prior episode is actually Emily, William’s estranged daughter. It’s a twist that comes off a little cheesy, but fits nicely with what we’ve already seen. Having grown up with the park available to her, Emily is skeptical of any form of affection that can be manufactured, and has a confidence and ease around the hosts that marks her as someone experienced with them the same way William is.
She’s also the walking embodiment of the other side of that major theme -- that the way to live beyond your mortal life is not through experiments carried out by faceless, muscle-clad, mechanical goons, but by leaving a legacy, one that lives on through your children and the people whose lives you touch. As the Ghost Nation leader says when Emily and Stubbs and other park-goers are gathered around him, you live as long as the last person who remembers you. (Hello, fans of Coco!)
The arcs in this episode, clumsy through it may be, is William letting go of the idea that immortality can be obtained through Ford and Arnold’s creations, or that immortality itself is even desirable. Instead, it positions him to live on in his daughter, to rectify what went wrong with their relationship and with himself so that he can have the sort of life beyond that the Ghost Nation leader speaks of.
That idea is conveyed in the standard oblique fashion, and a lot of the groundwork to get there descends into doldrums, especially the interludes with Bernard and Elsie. But the desire for immortality is one of those natural questions that Westworld’s premise raises, and it’s nice to see the show exploring it a little, even if the results never rise above “fine.”