In the final moments of Westworld’s first episode, the face of Peter Abernathy – played by character actor Louis Herthum – contorts with confusion and primal fear. As a ‘host’, one of several thousand artificial beings created to populate the eponymous Westworld, Abernathy finds himself in a neon-lit bunker, far away from the rivers and valleys, the ranches and saloons of his hometown. Far from his daughter, Dolores.
Abernathy has been brought here after his creators noticed a fault in his code. At best, an error in his personality could ruin the sense of immersion for the park’s human guests; at worst, it could even put them in harm’s way. Diagnosing the fault is crucial. But Abernathy twitches and jerks, possessed by… something. If not a recognition of what he is, at least an awareness this isn’t right.
He’s shut off, cooed into a safe mode, only to seethe back into animation. Abernathy speaks words that seem from somewhere else: the parochial rancher is gone, and all that remains is rage, as Abernathy declares he will commit “the terrors of the Earth.”
An emergency shut-off leaves Abernathy’s face frozen in rictus rage. Indignant, undying. It’s one of the most affecting and technical performances of 2017, and it somehow steals a scene from Anthony fucking Hopkins, but it’s merely a precursor for the unholy creation and destruction – so much destruction – wrought in HBO’s landmark series.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vBZqySnDes
Herthum wasn’t nominated for an Emmy, but in the end, that didn’t particularly matter.
Hopkins, who played park creator Robert Ford; Evan Rachel Wood, who portrayed the mercurial host Dolores; Jeffrey Wright, the conflicted Dr Bernard Lowe; and Thandie Newton, who offered a literally godlike portrayal of Maeve: all of these actors put up performances as nuanced as Herthum’s throughout the season, and all were nominated in their respective Emmy categories. All of them lost out.
Curiously, the show’s most intense impact was felt after each episode, as fans dissected clues in an attempt to untangle the show’s deliberately blurred timelines. The clinical precision of Lisa Joy and Jonathan Nolan’s writing gave audiences just enough to progress Westworld’s plot while keeping its grandest truth obscured. It was propulsive. Like the hosts, viewers were kept in a maze-like world where a clear path could only be seen while looking back. Only at certain points did viewers ever outrun the show’s creators.
Joy and Nolan faced the ill fortune of facing Bruce Miller’s retooling of Margaret Atwood for The Handmaid’s Tale for the Best Writing award. That show, with its similar take on female autonomy and the “violent delights” perpetuated upon the forcibly subservient, also won Best Drama over Westworld. Nolan also missed the Best Director gong in favour of Reed Morano’s work on The Handmaid’s Tale.
This isn’t to say that The Handsmaid’s Tale isn’t a brilliant show. It is. It’s not to say that Elisabeth Moss, Ann Dowd, Sterling K. Brown, and John Lithgow didn’t deserve their wins. They do. But watching a pensive Bernard recognise the truth of his being… Look, playing Winston Churchill is cool and all, but Jeffrey Wright crushed it.
Some other decisions were rough, too. Okay, The Crown was always going to win for costuming in a period series, despite the futuristic commando / petticoat and tophat duality shown in Westworld. And Stranger Things’ incredible theme was destined to triumph over Ramin Djawadi’s haunting piano into. That being said, denying Djawadi anything for his deft appropriation of Soundgarden, Amy Winehouse, and Radiohead, still seems criminal.
Westworld received 22 nominations, the most of any drama this year, and only tied with Saturday Night Live in total. By the end of the televised ceremony, the show had five, all of which had been bestowed off-camera. On some level, we understand that awards shows are premeditated with little concern to our personal leanings. We get that there was some incredible competition this year. But, like Abernathy, the dissonance between what we expected and what we see is powerful. It shouldn’t exist.
Like him, I may not understand this world, but I still feel compelled to destroy it. Now, if you excuse me, I need to strip buck-naked and quote Shakespeare at my boss to adequately express the remnants of this unwanted anger.
Ok, now so where’s the bar?
— Jeffrey Wright 🥜 (@jfreewright) September 18, 2017
