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An Analysis of a Screenplay - Westworld Pilot (HBO)

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Iceman

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Introduction:

I've long been anticipating the result of the newest Jon Nolan & JJ Abrams collaboration, particularly being a fan of Critchton's body of work (The Andromeda Strain, Sphere, Jurassic Park, Timeline, and Airframe being my favorites), and of course being a fan of J. Nolan's scripting and Abram's Lost. I think this show has been in production for about the same length of time that I've been participating in a professional screenwriting program - about 2 years. I've learned an enormous amount and developed a few skills along the way and I feel like I'm in a great position to critically analyze the first of Westworld's offerings.

At the outset, although I'm enamored with the setting, the premise, the cast, etc. I don't feel the pilot grabbed me like it should have. So I set out to breakdown the script, based on the produced, fully edited episode that all of us have access to, to find out where the faults may have been. These are the results of that investigation.

Method:

Assumptions and grading criteria

A. Structure: A screenplay is broken up into 3 acts, but more specifically 4 quarters with the middle two quarters (or the middle half) making up the 2nd act, the middle. Each quarter is further broken up into 3 roughly equal parts. That makes up 12 total sequences. Each should roughly cover the same amount of screen time. The successful screenplay adheres to this structure rigidly. This is Hollywood pacing and it is tried and true.

B. Conceit: Every story decision, be it character behavior, dialogue, setting, or plot twist stems from a central conceit - that one simple idea that makes the story that’s being told unique, different from every other story ever told. A successful screenplay hugs the conceit tightly, never veering off into tangents.

C. Dynamic: The middle of the story is the whole story. And the middle is defined as a journey between a broken main character and a supporting character that challenges them to change , to make their weakness into a strength. Without that change the main character will not be successful in their quest. They will not achieve their clearly stated goal. This interaction is called the dynamic relationship & the principal player is called the “dynamic”.

D. Antagonist: The antagonist is actively creating obstacles for the main character. Ideally, the pair shares a common goal that constantly puts them at odds.

E. Genre Expectations: Genre expectations should be met. That’s doesn’t mean that you satisfy all of the tropes, but rather that the script has to be aware of the tropes and address them. A successful screenplay is creative in how it handles this. Subversions of tropes are welcome surprises to an attentive audience.

F. Character Behavior: Characters act and speak out of clearly defined motives. Every piece of dialogue delivers both NEW information about the character AND also moves the story forward.

Parts of a Screenplay and expected time stamps:

Structure is king. The Westworld pilot is 105 minutes long. So every sequence needs to be about 5 and a half minutes long. 5 minutes and 25 seconds to be exact.

Act I; sequence 1: 0:00-5:25 - Opening shot and MC routine (meet the antagonist?)
Act I; sequence 2: 5:25-10:50 - Inciting incident (meet the antagonist?)
Act I; sequence 3: 10:50-16:15 - Debate phase, introduction to dynamic

Act II; sequence 4: 16:15-21:40 - Fun and games
Act II; sequence 5: 21:40-27:05 - Road of trials
Act II; sequence 6: 27:05-32:30 - Midpoint complication/twist
Act II; sequence 7: 32:30-37:55 - Dwell in the consequences of the twist (often: a montage)
Act II; sequence 8: 37:55-43:20 - Bad guys close in
Act II; sequence 9: 43:20-48:45 - Low point (whiff of death)

A brief flight/chase scene would fit here snugly

Act III; sequence 10: 48:45-54:10 - Separation from dynamic character + behavioral reversion
Act III; sequence 11: 54:10-59:35 - Build up to battle scene
Act III; sequence 12: 59:35-1:05:00 - Battle scene

Vocabulary of the screenplay structure (see subsequent post)

Results (aka The Breakdown)

Conceit: Moments (including actions, events or dialogue) that reflect an anomaly causing unpredictable behavior in androids that are part of a painstakingly crafted and safe environment for wealthy guests to entertain their every desire.

Opening shot: Dolores. Naked. Her emotional state, specifically terror, is masked by a stony countenance. The story has determined for us that she is our main character. She is shown in a vulnerable state and exhibiting emotional dissonance - an inability to express what she’s really feeling. Human qualities.

This shot is confused by the presence of the calm, measured voice of Bernie, the programmer. His voice is the first we hear. TV shows typically have multiple storylines, each with their own protagonist, dynamic and antagonist. Is Westworld establishing that Bernie is also one of the protagonists? His voice and dialogue do not betray any particularly affecting flaws or imperfections - and his voice carries such a gravel-textured menace - that the sum total of his introduction suggests that we should not accept this character as an audience surrogate, or vehicle.

First sequence: (0:00-6:56) A day in the life of Dolores and her relationship with her father, Peter Abernathy, and Teddy. Serene.

Sequence 2: (6:57-12:31 = 5:34) Dolores and Teddy, then her father is killed, and the MIB kills Teddy. A taste of the evil that goes on in this place on a daily basis.
*Dolores is active, defiant, but ultimately her fate is not her own.

Sequence 3: (12:36-15:40 = 3:04) Behind the curtain. A look at the infrastructure and the people behind the theme park. An introduction to “reveries” the pervasive anomaly that threatens to change the behavior of the androids. The head programmer, Bernie, is called away at 15:40.
*Dolores is absent from this sequence.

Sequence 4: (16:10-21:00 = 4:50) The head programmer literally crosses the threshold. Twice. Maybe three times if you include passing through the wall of androids. But is Bernie supposed to be the protagonist? (recall that his is the first voice we hear) I understand we have several story threads here, and an android at this point of the story can’t be aware of what’s happening behind the curtain - so we need a surrogate - but these decisions muddy the narrative path.
*Dolores is again absent.

Sequence 5: (21:01-25:37/27:45 = 4:36/6:44) Extended discourse between Dolores and her father suggesting that he has tapped into older narratives, memories that should have been wiped from his system. In town, the routines of Dolores and Teddy are disrupted; they’re a little out of sorts. If I had a better ear for it, I would suggest that the music is played off key. In the middle of a bandit hunt with some guests, the sheriff glitches hard/BSOD. Things are starting to go awry. The show is suggesting that this is the “fun and games” part of the story, the hook.

*Dolores and Teddy are not interacting in this sequence. But is the true protagonist-dynamic relationship perhaps between Dolores and her father, Peter? He is impelling her to consider that things aren’t what they appear to be on the surface and she is incapable of comprehending this deeper layer of his dialogue.

Sequence 6: (25:37-34:30 = 8:53) We’re back underground/behind the curtain. Info dump: 10% of the “hosts”/androids have been given the most recent update - which may carry the pernicious, status quo-disrupting reveries. To pull the hosts or not to pull the hosts? Back in the theme park, a boy tells Dolores she’s not real (she’s unfazed) and Peter finds a photo of the outside/modern world and it bugs the hell of him. THIS IS THE MIDPOINT COMPLICATION. Peter shows Dolores the photo and it doesn’t bother her at all.

*There’s a bit of an overlap between the final scene of seq. 5 and the opening of seq. 6 - with the end of the penultimate sheriff glitch scene coinciding with an info dump relevant to the next sequence of events leading up to the midpoint complication. The total time spent across the two sequences, 13 minutes and 30 seconds, is still longer than what you would expect (10 minutes and 50 seconds), despite the fusing of the two scenes - presumably done to expedite the narrative.

**Now at the midpoint, we’re slightly off pace. We should be at 32:30 but the show is at 34:30. A manageable 2 minute offset. So far, it’s tightly paced. And most of that offset can be attributed to the bloat of sequences 5 and 6.

Sequence 7: (31:35-37:00 = 5:25) Hostility behind the curtain, which spills over into the theme park. An odd focus on the card dealer and closing time at the saloon. This fits the expectation of a lull - a time to dwell on the twist. We’re given time to more closely examine the interactions between the androids, to look for the cracks. Androids mutter things to themselves? Dialogue not meant to be overheard by guests? Interesting. Another android goes android-cidal.
*Dolores is not present in this sequence. Neither is the MIB or Teddy.


Sequence 8: (37:35-44:54 = 7:19) Plot acceleration. The milk murderer glitch forces the overseer to go ahead with pulling the 10% of androids in order to roll back the update, requiring a distraction engineered by the theme park narrative writer - which literally accelerates the bandit subplot. Bernie talks with Ford about the reveries. Ford, the inventor of the androids, explains that we, humans, are the product of trillions of mistakes - like the one he made with reveries. Meanwhile, the MIB bleeds the card dealer and .. scalps him? Peter breaks down, muttering about a question he means to ask, and warns Dolores to leave. A tempest looms.

*At 44:54 Dolores leaves her father and races towards town to get help - a doctor. This could be the flight that more typically separates sequence 9 from sequence 10, after the low point. Placing it here suggests that the low point just occurred: Peter Abernathy’s breakdown. This would confirm that the midpoint complication/twist was when he discovered the photo.

Sequence 9: (45:45-53:00 = 7:15) The low point begins as the bandits arrive in town. Teddy is shot at 49:15. The threat (Hector and his gang) is neutralized at 51:45. Teddy finally dies at 52:40. Dolores is separated from a second supporting character (a weak dynamic character) and arrives at the whiff of death.

*At this point it’s clear that propping Teddy up as the dynamic to Dolores’ protagonist was just a subversion of a subversion of a trope. The real story, the one that impacts her, and as a consequence us, the audience, the most is the relationship between Dolores and her father.

Sequence 10: (53:00-58:10 = 5:10) The bandit robbery was successful in that it produced wanton slaughter that allowed the theme park staff to round up the potentially faulty 10% and keep HBO happy. An investigation into what Dolores knows about her father. Ford prepares to interrogate Peter while Ms. Cullen is eager to terminate him. The initial interrogation starts with the glitch, rolls back to the previous configuration - pre-update. All seems to go well until he freezes for a moment, then resumes his terrified importunities regarding his daughter.

Sequence 11: (58:10-61:30 = 3:13) A return to Peter’s current - post-update configuration/build. Look out. He wants to meet his maker and delivers a most chilling threat. Damn fine acting. Ford shrugs it off as a simple, if unpredicted software glitch allowing for deleted memory to be accessed by the fun little java applets he added - or maybe he’s secretly hoping that this is just the first domino tipping and wants to ward the staff off from interfering. Devious.

Sequence 12: (61:30-65:10 = 4:40) The battle scene for Dolores. Peter just had a hell of a battle scene. Hers is more subtle. But after passing the interrogation test - avoiding decommission - and having her memory wiped and reset, she illustrates a change by killing the fly. In the meanwhile, Peter’s been given a lobotomy but still shows emotion as he’s walked into cold storage. Teddy is reborn. MIB has some new info that will help him play the deeper game.

*An alternative sequence breakdown, revised by the revelation of the Delores-Peter dynamic looks like this:

Seq 8: (37:35-41:40 = 4:05) Mistakes and reveries.

Seq. 9: (41:45-44:54 = 3:09) MIB’s torture of Kissy + Peter’s breakdown.

Flight @ 44:54-45:45 = 0:51

A little math: Seq. 8 through Flight runs to 8:05. That’s 2 minutes and 45 seconds shy of what’s expected, but that shortage makes up for the 2 minute overage of sequences 5 and 6.

Seq. 10: (45:45-53:00 = 7:15) Return to the normal world - in town; a robbery takes place, just as planned - nothing abnormal. Just a bit of a surprise when the guest interrupts Hector’s celebratory speech. When Dolores is separated from her dynamic (Peter) everything’s just as it was, despite how horrible it - but we are reminded of sequence 2 when Peter is gunned down at home and we learn that that is a routine horror she has had to experience over and over again.

Seq. 11: (53:00-58:10 = 5:10) The round up of the 10% & preparing for interrogation. A final battle is promised - that between the misbehaving androids and their makers.

Seq. 12: (58:10-65:10 = 7:00) The battle scenes for both Peter and Dolores.
 

Iceman

Member
Discussion/Thoughts:

A. Structure: Once I figured out what the correct dynamic pairing the structure fell neatly into place. Whereas, with the “Teddy as dynamic” structure, I had to cheat with the final sequences, falsely splitting up what I knew had to be the ultimate battle scene into two sequences. But with a revised, “Peter as the dynamic” structure, all twelve sequences came into relief. The placement of the flight sequence was the initial hint. However, with this restructuring we find that while the flight sequence is in its proper place, the whiff of death - when Teddy is shot down (again) - is now misplaced, in sequence 10. Then again, we can reassess the nature of these lynchpin events and make the educated guess that Peter’s breakdown - as revealed in the horrified reaction of Dolores - could be the whiff of death, particularly for an Android that has already been accustomed to seeing death, even if only subliminally, in buried, deleted memories that have yet to be overwritten. Watching her father apparently have a stroke is at least a hint of death. That could work for this story. On paper. However, viscerally, Teddy’s death is the visual and more emotive cue to the audience that the protagonist is “dying” in her journey towards a transformation. So the structure of this script fails on this one point.

The length of sequences vary greatly, from 3:04 to 8:53. This is another critical issue. A show “feels” tight when it sticks to evenly paced sequences. Any protracted sequence feels bloated and we, as an audience, start to wonder when things are going to get moving again. If you felt any such lulls - aside from the requisite lull following sequence 6 and the reveal of the twist - then you can attribute it to the script dwelling too long in some bloated sequences. Those sequences are: 1, 5, 6, 10, and 12. But we can forgive 12 because, damn, that’s great acting, and battle scene sequences also have to tack on a final 1-2 minutes of resolution.

B. Conceit: The script stuck to the central premise and its unique elements. I think the burglary/slaughter went off in a bit of a tangent, but it did showcase a super interesting interplay/interaction between Thandie Newton’s character and Hector. These two androids respect each other. It was fun watching them. But aside from that and the coldly clinical and over-the-top assassinations by Hector’s right-hand woman, that sequence (10) did not show us anything particularly unique. The western genre/setting kind of forced them to pull off a scene like this, but it also played out like you would expect in nearly any other western. The writers did not fully mine their conceit to extract a more unique, and necessarily better, expression of the trope.

C. The dynamic relationship: Strong screenplays tend to focus more on a single character with a clear defect and a dynamic relationship that works to change that defect into a strength. In a movie there’s a pressure to rush through that development. With a TV series, historically, you arrive at the protagonist acknowledging the flaw, exhibiting a slight course correction then reverting completely for the subsequent episode - as if they had learned nothing. Modern TV takes a hybrid approach, allowing us to observe a gradual, more natural, building change of the protagonist’s primary flaw. Proponents of the classic TV approach would counter that people are drawn more strongly to a never changing character that always misbehaves predictably. And they wouldn’t be wrong. See Archie Bunker, Dexter Morgan, Gregory House. A truly unique character that is the fullest expression of a critical human failing is the highest attainable conceit.

Westworld has not established such a character, nor specific dynamic relationship that will build over time, spanning multiple seasons. At least not yet. In the pilot episode we were introduced to Dolores, the oldest active (remaining) host in the park, and were clearly given traditional storycrafting cues meant to draw an audience to her in particular. She is our main character, our protagonist. However, the script toys with genre conventions and leads us to believe that Teddy will be her dynamic, the person that pulls her towards some kind of behavioral change. That doesn’t come about. He just happens to be the other android she is routinely paired off with - at least in the midst of the current theme park narrative scripts. Jonah Nolan and Lisa Joy are aware of this because they make the MIB specifically address this oddity, “I never understood why they paired some of you off”.

The fact that the father, Peter, ends up being the primary agent of any potential change only becomes clear at the midpoint, and then solidified at the low point. This decision means that their is no meaningful progression in the entire first half of the episode!

The show is notably handcuffed when it comes to this particular facet of storytelling. It’s a bold choice to use androids to drive the dynamic narrative. We as the audience want people to make meaningful choices that have real consequences. If androids can be rebooted every time, wiping away any recently collected memories, then how can they ever be learn from mistakes? And how can they ever make a choice that can be considered a mistake to begin with? For the first consideration, maybe having Jonah Nolan penning the overall narrative is the absolutely best choice. He did write the screenplay for Memento, a very successful script exhibiting how someone crippled with an inability to store long term memories was able to communicate with himself to drive a specific behavior. That story made use of tattoos to provide rules and warning, presumably crafted out of necessity due to the postmortem of past mistakes. That said, I didn’t observe any such mechanic introduced that could be exploited for such character gains.

Moreover, a very strong dynamic, Peter Abernathy, was ripped away from Dolores, seemingly in a permanent capacity, removing from her any obvious mechanism that could persistently drive her to change. They did show us subtle hints that the bug of self-awareness (or at least having access to salvaged memories), perhaps via the reveries, has already been passed off by the time Dolores and her father(figure) are separated, notably (1) getting just a hint that she might be withholding her innermost thoughts from the interrogator(s) and (2) killing the fly at the end.

There is a consideration, based on the structure of the pilot, that we are meant to consider Hosts as a whole the protagonist of the story. If 10% are potentially affected by the reveries then maybe we are going to observe a massive change in this population. The problem with this idea is that we are not going to be personally invested in the narrative. It becomes a removed, sterile, operation, just information dumps over time, like a carefully crafted documentary rather than an emotional journey.

Could Bernard, the programmer, be a protagonist in this story? I don’t think so. Even though the script clumsily uses him as our guide to the world behind the curtain of Westworld, his character is not so concerned about the well-being of the hosts - and nor should he be, he knows how they tick and he knows what they’re made of. He is one of the makers, and he is as coldly detached from his creations as a child is from a super complex arrangement of Legos that he tears down at the end of each day. (I’m channeling a bit of Crichton here)

There is also a twisted suggestion that the MIB is also a protagonist. He has a clear motivation, obstacles on the path to his goal, and there really is no harm in damaging the hosts in order to achieve his goal, is there? But the MIB acts pretty sadistically, in a selfish manner, exhibits no redeeming values, hasn’t shown any particular weakness or flaw, and wasn’t pitted with a dynamic that would challenge him in a personal way or expose us to the way he debates/weighs options. These are not the characteristics of solid protagonists. The script does not want us to root for this guy in a personal way, but it does want to us to root for his progress. We want to see what the deeper game is - as specifically referenced by the Ms. Cullen (the overseer) and the game maker/writer. I believe the script is quite successful in that regard.

I could talk about this all day. I’ll stop here and move on.

D. Active antagonist: I don’t know who the antagonist is here. The MIB has his motives but it will not affect the day to day life or behavior of Dolores, our protagonist, even if he supposedly rapes her on the daily - why, because she has no consistent knowledge of it, and without those memories/that awareness, she can’t be bothered by it nor look for a way to correct the injustice. Ford did infect his hosts with reveries, which absolutely will affect Dolores, but he was not directly involved as an obstacle to her progression. Rather, it was Ms. Cullen who’s been eager to roll back updates and wipe out any misbehaving androids. If anything, Ford and Bernie are dynamic supporting characters for Dolores from afar, like God giving his creations free will and watching them adapt and adjust with emerging, unpredictable behavior, hoping something magical will happen.

So it must be Ms. Cullen, and the writer/game maker, who act as our story’s antagonist(s). They have reason to shut down Dolores and pack her in cold storage. But she’s also not consciously aware of that. There is a suggestion during the interrogations of menace. Dolores is given a warning or threat - without any specification of what the consequence may be - that if she does not provide the “right” answer then there may legitimately be something for her to fear. But that comes from our not-protagonist/maybe a far off dynamic Bernie. In fact, the other interrogator, the security guy with a trigger finger, plays Mr. Nice Guy to get honest answers from Dolores.

If Dolores’ goal is just to keep on living, then Ms. Cullen and her team are active antagonists to her objective. But if there’s another goal in play, then we aren’t aware of it and we’re not in a position to assess whether Ms. Cullen is an impediment to it.

E. Genre expectations: A western is dirty, dusty, wide vistas, bad guys in black, heroes on horseback, woman in trouble, righting wrongs, hangings, shootouts, showdowns, saloons, heists, and campfires, card games, etc. We got a healthy dose of these expectations. Westworld cannot be mistaken for another genre. But the show also purports to carry the weight of scif-fi expectations. Those tropes include delving into concepts of identity, man vs machine, and the hubris of god as man, again amongst other things. Sci-fi stories tend to focus on one new technology and its feedback ramifications on human behavior and relationship based on the most developed expression of that technology. Dinosaurs recreated from their DNA, traveling through a wormhole created by our future, multi-dimensional progeny, or facing androids with defined, short-term life expectancies who become determined to find a way out of that death sentence. The pilot does not arrive at such questions, but only offers a peek into an unraveling of programmed behavior once it’s been compromised by code that allows an android to access deleted information. What are the clear questions arising from that premise? They are yet to be spelled out. Ford’s dialogue suggests that such a tiny disruption can lead to mistakes which are analogous to mutations in human genome that are the building blocks of evolution - that robots can evolve, wholly and within themselves, that is, without having to give birth to children, or a new generation. It’s fulfillment of a wish possibly only held by Ford - to exceed the limitations of human existence. “This is it. This is as good as we get” he says, specifically referring to an individual life being the expression of the current code of the 3 billion base pairs that exist in all 10+ trillion of your cells. You cannot be rewritten and improved. But maybe through an android, you can achieve that, constant improvement of the self. Maybe this points to the underlying purpose of this grossly expensive enterprise (the park not the show, lol).

On a downside, the subversions of tropes directly impacted the script in negative ways. Make Teddy appear to be the dynamic, and thereby masking the true dynamic (Peter), stunted the progression of Dolores in the first half of the script.

Also, by giving us the MIB feint, we, as an audience, were left kind of stranded, subconsciously searching for an antagonist. It’s only after meticulously pondering over the story that I even arrived at the idea of Ms. Cullen as the antagonist. It might have been clear to most of you early on, but to me, searching for those typical screenplay cues, the massive cast of behind the scenes players, each with different motivations, yet all working on the same team, made it a bit of a needle in a haystack scenario. I believe that was the intention of the script, to not provide us with a clearly evil, man in a black hat = evil, scenario. It’s a thinking man’s western. But by not working a little harder to pit an antagonist (Ms. Cullen) directly against Dolores they made the audience work for it a bit. A general audience does not want to have to work to find the basic structural elements of the story. It needs to be way clearer so that they can focus on following the progression of the protagonist’s emotional journey.

F. Character behavior: I’m convinced, especially after watching the episode over several times, that characters only spoke out of their personal motives. The dialogue was rarely pat or generic, save for when some androids spoke out of their internally imprinted scripts. But even those bits of dialogue generally told us what each individual android’s role was and gave us a new clue about the world and the plot. So, well done on the dialogue. The behaviors of the characters all made sense, and were extensions of their motivations. Please let me know if you picked up on any inconsistencies here, or any false behaviors, betraying what we knew of characters, or any wasted/generic action that gave us zero character information or failed to advance the story. I think all of the moments worked to tell the story.

Final verdict:

The story is muddled, primarily because the writers spent maybe too much energy subverting tropes and depriving us of a clearly established dynamic character and antagonist, especially in the first half of the episode. Dolores, our protagonist, lacked a clear goal. However, this is a challenging piece, particularly when choosing a vessel that is intrinsically incapable of behavioral change. But the story hugged its conceit/premise, focused on strong expression of motives and plot advancement through character choices, and met genre expectations. My grades:

Structure = C-
Conceit = A-
Dynamic = F
Antagonist = C
Genre expectations = B
Character expression = A

Overall, I’d give this a C. That’s primarily based on the top four categories - the most fundamental elements of story crafting. It might be a C+ based on the execution of genre expectations and character expression which really exceeded television standards.

But this is actually ok news for the series. Pilots are meant to be the worst episodes of a series, giving other writers a platform to potentially elevate the show. For example, Better Call Saul and Five-O. The pilot of Better Call Saul created the template - and a unique one: a rigid structure of three minute long scenes centering on a good, well-meaning, but often devious lawyer slipping into criminal master-mindery - but it was the sixth episode of the first season that really got people’s attention. And that’s because it was so focused on a solitary side character and his gruelingly challenging adventure.

New episodes will undoubtedly focus more on individual characters, giving them defined arcs with clearly defined dynamics and antagonists, with the showrunners swooping in to write the bookend episodes meant to tie off multiple plot lines and create new ones - the more mechanical scripts. Such as this pilot.

Final note:

Congratulations for making it all the way to the end. I hope it was a little rewarding. I welcome any feedback. I'd like to use this format to analyze other particularly interesting movies or TV episodes in the future, so I'm interested in refining into something that's hopefully a bit more breezy, useful - especially as a way to delve into more discussion - and maybe even entertaining.
 

Iceman

Member
The vocabulary of screenplay structure:

There’s quite a bit of play for the first set of story events (occurring in the 1st Act). Typically the main character is established right away in the opening scene and their life routine is displayed throughout the first story sequence. We have to see the antagonist and the dynamic by the end of the first act, but it’s not necessary to see them at specific times within the act. An inciting incident must occur that challenges the protagonist’s routine, a call to adventure. Typically there’s a debate phase after that, ultimately culminating in the break to act two - the protagonist steps into the new world, sometimes called the special world (Campbell), or the inverted world where the rules are upside down, a complete mystery to the protagonist who must quickly adapt to the new world or perish.

Opening shot/introduction to the main character. The most efficient tool for establishing the main character/protagonist is to exhibit a foible, a mistake, clumsiness, or just generally being out of step with the world. We immediately associate with this person because we can empathize with them. They are us every given day. And this character immediately becomes our avatar, our vehicle, for experiencing this alien world. We put them on like a costume, or new clothes. We step into their shoes.

We see their routine, observe their quirks and their usual interactions with people. Within the first sequence we should be well aware of the protagonists failings. These faulty characteristics should be the subject and focus of all subsequent moments, which should be pulling and testing and challenging the main character to change those weakness into strengths.

Within the next two sequence the protagonist’s goal should be clearly stated and an inciting incident should occur - often these go hand in hand, or arrive in quick succession. You can commonly find these events at about the 15th page of a feature screenplay, or the middle of the second sequence.

Inciting incident - what causes the main character to consider a deviation from the routine: An event or opportunity provides the protagonist with a path to achieve that goal. Often times these situations are thrust on the protagonist and the only options are to walk the new path or slink away in cowardice. By making the choice so binary it’s pretty easy to root for the protagonist because they’re taking the harder road - a road we rarely choose for ourselves. And we love to role play in this way because it has no real world ramifications for us. It’s just a way for us to put a toe in the water.

A great screenplay, however, will make the choice more nuanced and will only make the door available if they follow their weakness; if they think they’re fulfilling their innermost but faulty desires. A broad example: in “Big” Josh Baskin literally wishes to be older after whining about 13 year old problems and then not making the height cutoff for a ride at the carnival and becoming embarrassed in front of his crush. He’s rushed into adulthood (the special world with all new rules) with seemingly no way back. He wasn’t aware this was going to happen.

Interestingly, Josh makes the wish on page 16 (midway through the second sequence) and becomes an adult on page 20 (the end of the second sequence). In the third sequence Josh runs away from home, convinces his best friend that he’s still Josh just bigger, and then make their way to Manhattan with a suitcase and a little bit of cash. That takes us to page 30 (at about 25-30 minutes of screen time depending on the direction) and the beginning of act two.

Crossing the threshold: To make it official, the protagonist typically needs to cross some kind of dividing line indicating the boundaries of the normal and special worlds. Campbell suggested that old myths used a stream of water to demarcate that boundary.

In act two, the protagonist should interact with a supporting character in a dynamic manner to expose and challenge their weakness so that they can develop a mastery over that skill. This spans two different kinds of sequences: (a) a fun and games period - where the MC enjoys taking advantage of the new/inverted rules of the special world; also called the promise of the premise, the stuff in the trailers that usually attracts our attention because it usually reflects the wish fulfillment aspect of “what if” stories and (b) the road of trials - where the protagonist is chewed up by rules of the new world and the agents of the antagonist and comes out of it wiser and stronger. Things may start to come easier for the protagonist after this rough patch. Maybe even a little cocky.

Ultimately, at the midpoint - the halfway mark in the run time - the nature of the relationship between the protagonist and the dynamic changes in a fundamental way. This accelerates the relational dynamic and speeds up the growth of the protagonist’s newfound skill. The event itself is simply the fulcrum of the entire story. Once you get beyond this point the plot and relationship development accelerates towards a heart pounding conclusion… until the protagonist stumbles, or is blindsided, onto the low point.

The low point (big low, whiff of death, etc.): the low point happens right before the end of the second act which is simply a plot event, best caused by an active opponent. A natural consequence of the low point should result in the separation of protagonist from their dynamic. Often times this means the death of the dynamic. But it doesn’t have to. For example, in a romantic comedy, the love interest is both the dynamic character AND the antagonist.

At this point, the beginning of act three, the protagonist returns to the normal world, and reverts to act one weaknesses. In movies there’s a “flight” (commonly expressed as a chase sequence; Vogler’s revision of Campbell) to the normal world - the place where all the original relationships remain intact, preserved.

In the penultimate sequence a new situation arises, commonly orchestrated by the antagonist, which will test the protagonist to their very limits, and a final confrontation with the antagonist looms. But the protagonist has already gone through the road of trials and a crushing low point and has been transformed into a world-changing ninja. Think Neo after he was shot to death by Agent Smith, rising with the ability to rewrite the Matrix code on the fly.

The final battle occurs in the last sequence. We see the transformed hero finally defeat the antagonist while showing off their new strengths.
 
The show is notably handcuffed when it comes to this particular facet of storytelling. It’s a bold choice to use androids to drive the dynamic narrative. We as the audience want people to make meaningful choices that have real consequences. If androids can be rebooted every time, wiping away any recently collected memories, then how can they ever be learn from mistakes? And how can they ever make a choice that can be considered a mistake to begin with? --snip-- That said, I didn’t observe any such mechanic introduced that could be exploited for such character gains.

You were taking too many notes and forgot to watch, synths being able to make/access memories was literally what the pilot was about.
 

Foggy

Member
I'm not too keen on expending such energy on one episode of long-form storytelling. This also screams not seeing the forest for the trees.
 
I mean if any pilot deserves such in depth scrutiny it's this one.

Definitely master class stuff all around, hope they can keep it up.
 

Iceman

Member
You were taking too many notes and forgot to watch, synths being able to make/access memories was literally what the pilot was about.

Yeah, I mean WTF. It's like the main takeaway of the episode and the entire denouement of the pilot.

Great. Thanks for noting that. I'm sure I wasn't clear on several points - and maybe I wasn't clear on this specific point because I don't fully understand it.

I understand the impact of the denouement - that muscle activation bound to memories is being utilized as a backdoor to access deleted memories, but the precise mechanism of that memory access was not described - that is, articulated through action and dialogue. If anything we can conclude, like Ford, that the mechanic is simply bringing up random lines of code hidden in the storage memory (solid state?) that has yet to be overwritten - as shown by the interaction between Peter and Ford. Peter speaks through literary quotes programmed for a previous character the android had played. How they were strung together and expressed with such strong emotion indicates that a whole other process is in the works - but it's a process that is not expressly explained.

On multiple re-watches my impression that Peter's malfunction can be interpreted as Peter behaving like a malfunctioning computer, just dumping old data from its memory cache.

It's clear that "reveries" are the catalytic substance for the change, and I do think I made the case that Ford designed it as a kind of code grenade, but how do they actually work? What are the mechanics limitations? Can a host control this mechanic in anyway? Or is it just random, like genetic mutation? Are they subject to it, or did we see a glimpse into how a host can choose to retain memories? Is there a specific example exhibited by Dolores?

We saw her kill a fly, but was that ever even in her programming? I thought Bernie said that the hosts were explicitly programmed to not hurt a fly. Maybe in the very beginning they could, but we don't know .. and it seems like Bernie might not know either because he hadn't been involved in the project since the beginning. Only Ford knows the truth of it all. Is there another example of her bringing up a memory from her past versions and somehow acknowledging it or exhibiting it?

Let me bring up Memento once again. The protagonist manipulates himself through notes and tattoos. This mechanic produces character agency and choices. Is there an equivalent use or manipulative potential available to the reverie mechanic? In other words, does it translate to empowered character choices?

Maybe that's what I'm missing. I'd bet future episodes address this in more detail - and maybe even episode 2 will clear this all up for me.
 

Brakke

Banned
You know that bit in Dead Poet's society where they read a dude who's developed a system for graphing poems on coordinate system?

You probably thought Robin Williams was the villain in that scene, huh?
 
As a screenwriter, the OP immediately made me laugh.

You can't stick that rigidly (minute by minute/page by page count) to breakdowns and try apply the formula to X runtime of a television pilot. Also, those rules don't really apply to TV in the same way, especially when it comes to a show whose immediate narrative doesn't appear to be self-contained within each episode like some other shows (think The Sopranos).

Shaking my head.
 

Dalek

Member
bird-gif.gif
 
Subbing for later full read and points of contest, should there be any.

As a screenwriter, the OP immediately made me laugh.

You can't stick that rigidly (minute by minute/page by page count) to breakdowns and try apply the formula to X runtime of a television pilot. Also, those rules don't really apply to TV in the same way, especially when it comes to a show whose immediate narrative doesn't appear to be self-contained within each episode like some other shows (think The Sopranos).

Shaking my head.

But OP is also a screenwriter. You might remember a topic about quantum physics using Ant-Man material. Same guy. Rigid approach can be contested though, not denying that. But you have to analyze stuff into categories of some kind, so the 'rigid analysis' argument is inherently self-defeating.
Obviously TV is different, but I personally believe TV might actually be more fit for 'straight' analysis because of the far simpler and more predictable format. A movie can be anti-plot and make no damn sense that would provide sensible analysis. A TV show cannot be that.
 
Subbing for later full read and points of contest, should there be any.

@Sculli: said OP is also a screenwriter. You might remember a topic about quantum physics using Ant-Man material. Same guy. Rigid approach can be contested though, not denying that. But you have to analyze stuff into categories of some kind, so the 'rigid analysis' argument is inherently self-defeating.

Don't remember the thread. But if you want to try and organize something like a screenplay into categories to see where it falls down or succeeds, it isn't by applying a mathematical analysis to it imo. It's obvious enough when something is dragging or shooting its' narrative load too early/rushing.

A better way is: 'Does this scene move the story forward? Does this scene enrichen the world or characters/move the characters forward? Are the set-ups paid off (hard to judge in Television given the long-form storytelling).
 

Iceman

Member
A better way is: 'Does this scene move the story forward? Does this scene enrichen the world or characters/move the characters forward? Are the set-ups paid off (hard to judge in Television given the long-form storytelling).

Was the pilot episode effective storytelling by your own metrics?

I honestly didn't know myself. I just knew that it didn't have complete hold of me. And I wanted to find out what it was - so that I could avoid those problems in my own scripts. This is how I'm equipped to perform such a post-mortem.

By the way, does any one have any suggestions for another movie or TV episode to breakdown? I have Inside Out next on my list, but I'm also interested in pulling apart The Force Awakens.
 
I mean if any pilot deserves such in depth scrutiny it's this one.

Definitely master class stuff all around, hope they can keep it up.
This comment got me to watch the first episode last night.

And I was really disappointed. The visual are great, but holy hell is it melodramatic.

If I continue, I'm going to have a really hard time suspending my disbelief. A park like this in the real world is not going to be run day-to-day by a handful of passionate and visionary execs in a futuristic glass castle, especially if it's been around for 30+ years.

Daily operations will be handled in a boring white-walled, drop-ceiling office with a water color, by a large group of salaried Disney managers and employees, discussing boring metrics in dry terms.

Showing the routine of this park, to show how desensitized everyone is to this project. That's what would make it interesting, both as a case study in humanity and especially when something goes wrong.

Introspective monologues by marketing execs and AI creators take the viewer out of the world because by their nature they're meant to break it down. Leave them for later on, or not at all.

The guests' few lines made them seem like cartoons -- super predictable and clichéd, with broad intentions and qualities. If this show is going to try to explore what makes a human a human, you've gotta be a little more nuanced in your approach. But there are obviously more episodes to do that. Not a great start though.

In general, the episode made me crave Star Trek's Measure of a Man, or any handful of android-focused media that takes a more sober approach. Westworld seems like it will rely on mystery as a hook, and I'm wary of shows that do that. Mystery's a nice bonus on top of a thriving, real world with compelling characters. As a driving force, it's often doomed to failure.
 

Iceman

Member
In general, the episode made me crave Star Trek's Measure of a Man, or any handful of android-focused media that takes a more sober approach.

I would suggest that any storytelling angle or approach is valid and could work to create a compelling narrative. One of the preeminent lessons in the trade is that you cannot come up with a new idea - it's all been done-, but you can come up with a fresh perspective on an old idea.

Westworld seems like it will rely on mystery as a hook, and I'm wary of shows that do that. Mystery's a nice bonus on top of a thriving, real world with compelling characters. As a driving force, it's often doomed to failure.

I think this is a great, succinct summary of the nature of the issue with the pilot.

The second episode focuses on 5 different character-driven storylines. In a way it course corrects at a fundamental level. Each character has dynamic to work off of, be challenged by, and expose their inner thought to. Maeve and Ford's storylines are slight oddities in that they replace the role of the dynamic in every scene. Dolores takes a backseat here, being utilized as an inciting incident for Maeve.

I feel like this episode works as the back half a 2 hour pilot, capping off the premise. It fleshes out more of how the the reverie mechanic functionally works for the story - although it still doesn't technically make sense to me, at least I know how they're using it within the story.

My guess is that if I breakdown this second episode it will reveal a nearly identical format to the pilot. There was extended time in the labs at the beginning of act 2 and the midpoint twist happens to one of the hosts. Again, Teddy dying may be the marker for beginning of the third act. But overall the character arcs are murky because the characters, besides the MIB, don't have any clearly stated goals.

So, yes, mystery is driving the bus right now. But at least they did move towards a more character-driven narrative, which I think would better satisfy a viewer like Battersea Power Station.
 

Violet_0

Banned
2 years well spent just for this moment, I'd say

I haven't actually read your posts though because I haven't watched the pilot yet, but I'll come back to it later
 
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