Westworld, a show about a fictional life-like Wild West theme park staffed by sentient android “hosts,” is a show with a very particular and tangible mood and aesthetic. The title sequence for Westworld is one that is incredibly entrancing – it moves through multiple scenes of artificial beings of Westworld in action while being built by machines, slowly lacing them with skin and muscles as they slowly move in sync with a piano piece that evokes the anachronistic Western aesthetic of the show. The imagery is particularly powerful. The entire intro sequence is filled with grotesque images of sinewy muscles and fibers that are counterbalanced by the fact that they’re nearly completely white and “artificial.” The shadowy robotic limbs that control them also lend to this atmosphere of artificiality, with them stretching and pulling at the muscles of the androids while they work. The robotic imagery is also powerful because it serves as an omnipresent reminder to the viewer that everything they are seeing – the human like figures before them – are completely man-made. The arms move along the muscles in close up, dripping out material that forms in a way that is eerily similar to 3-D printing.  One particularly stand out piece of imagery is the very beginning where a light rises over a silhouette meant to look like the rising sun over a barren desert plain, only to be revealed as a laboratory light over what we can assume is an in-progress android. Another piece of imagery that is also repeated a few times is close up shots of the eye, which I take to represent the theme of blurring lines between humanity and artificial humanity. The eye is often used to show “humanity” within someone, much akin to Blade Runner. Within these close ups is reflections of the desert, or the “Westworld.” This seems to represent the desire of androids to make a life, a seeming parallel to Manifest Destiny but in a more cyberpunk manner. These sets of images, intertwined, tell a powerful story with more subtlety than one would likely notice or even care to notice upon a first viewing.

The use of movement is also key in the titling sequence. The entire introduction is a slow waltz back and forth with sweeping camera pans in nearly slow-motion. Everything is intricate, delicately done and capturing the essence of the level detail considered in the creation of these androids. The deliberate nature of the movement present completely throughout makes it clear that everything is intentional, almost reflecting the perceived lack of free will in the androids, which are suspended and moved by large robotic arms that sit on the sidelines. The actual movements performed by the androids are symbolic as well. In one scene, a pair of white, skinless hands plays the piano and slowly lets go while the keys continue to play themselves. This begs the question, were the hands really playing them or simply miming life in order to create the illusion of an action being performed? The android thinks it is in control, but the entire thing is rigged from the beginning, and there is no independent thought. In another, two half finished (noticing a theme?) androids have sex while robotic arms work on them. They’re doing something many would consider an essential human experience (reproducing) when for them, it serves no purpose. It’s an illusion, making them appear human even though they are entirely fabricated.

The sound is limited in the scene, being only a moody orchestral track reminiscent of Harry Potter combined with Red Dead Redemption. It sets a dramatic tone with hints of the West, such as the balladic piano interspersed among the cinematic and dramatic string tracks. The combination of multiple audio elements that recall different moods creates an entirely new sense of wonder, mystery, and fear while evoking the Wild West. The lighting is also completely minimal, with the only light shining from the appendages of the robots or an unknown background source. Either way, it is entirely artificial, which keeps in line with the overarching theme. This continues until the end where flood lights come on and an android devoid of skin is dipped into a white liquid that gives it skin. The screen fills with white, symbolizing the imbuement of “life” unto the machine.

Taking multiple rewatchings, the common element I am seeing throughout the design of the Westworld introductory scene is deception, or illusion. As I touched on in the previous paragraphs, all the elements of design that I picked up on (mostly imagery and movement) in some way symbolizes the idea of Westworld as an illusion, a mimic of a real world that’s nearly perfect, but not without cracks and seams. These elements work in conjunction with each other to create an eerie atmosphere that enters into the uncanny valley. Everything looks real, but something is wrong.