Westworld Contemplates Fatalism (with a Twist) in “Virtù e Fortuna”

A sitar-strummed opening to this week’s Westworld, saddled with the Machiavellian title “Virtù e Fortuna,” might rub you the wrong way, but it’s the way it should’ve been rubbing you all along. Appearing as a new park, this colonial-ass Disney version of the Crown’s rule in India is a more honest version of the fantasy the company offers. It’s what happens when everyone isn’t the same pale shade as in whitewashed fantasies of the Old West and the subservient hosts reflect the historical power dynamics, making the parks’ gross exploitation more abruptly obvious. The white linens and juleps of the plantation owner are part of the florid set design, which is punctuated with extras whose casting call must’ve said “looks like the bad guy in Jumanji.” It’s a stereotype of a stereotype, which makes it the most forthright of all.

We learn about it through guests played by Neil Jackson and Katja Herbers (whose eyes throw mischievous gazes like Carrie Fisher, with the latter’s same self-assuredness), two humans looking for a shade of fun more messy than the park’s sterilized hosts. Herbers’ ass-grabbing pleasure at finding some real flesh and blood in the park takes a step in an even more deliciously masochistic direction when she threatens Jackson’s guest with a special host-zapping gun. Her sexual eccentricities have evolved with her desire to get back to what is real and avoid the false promises of doting bots. When she shoots him, despite his protests, it shows how serious some of the guests are about their small revolts against the status quo, while finally giving the series some of the sexiness it’s sought from the beginning. The two actors have great chemistry, and the staging is perfect for a whirlwind hookup. More importantly, though, the romance reassures us on one main point: A bit of danger is always more exciting than a sure thing.

That’s what makes the episode’s opening (and the narrative this season is pursuing) so much fun. There’s uncertainty, but not as it was in Season One. The question is no longer whether the writers are playing tricks on us, but whether the sentience of the hosts can alter the course of their prewritten stories. That brings us back to The Prince, from which the episode derives its title. The relevant section contemplates fatalism, with a twist: Our destinies and fortunes are instilled upon our creation, but with the savvy application of our wills and energies, we might be able to bend future circumstances to profit more or hurt us less.

Bernard’s (Jeffrey Wright) destiny is certainly in flux. His malfunctions are becoming more severe, all in the midst of a Delos operation to handle the host revolt and find the escaped Peter Abernathy. It’s through this that he reunites with Tessa Thompson’s Charlotte Hale, who was mysterious enough during their last encounter (the first episode’s flashback) that she’s definitely one to watch. Or at least one of the top contenders for “people who know Bernard’s really a host”—which is a possibility that becomes more and more likely as the moments between the present and the pair’s premiere scenes are filled in.