I don’t recall how or why I started watching “Black Mirror” and “Westworld;” only that I began both in an attempt to distract myself from finals week and was immediately hooked. Much like my introduction to “Game of Thrones” a few years ago, as soon as I began binging these shows, I found that everyone around me was talking about them, obsessing over fan theories and expressing the discomfort these fictional worlds instilled in them. Warning: spoilers ahead.
I don’t consider myself an avid science-fiction fan, nor would anyone else allow me to assume the title considering my tremendous lack of knowledge regarding sci-fi canon (or in other words, that I’ve never seen a “Star Wars” movie). High-budget computer-generated imagery doesn’t particularly thrill me, and often I feel as though it gets in the way of a nuanced narrative. Yet, despite “Black Mirror” and “Westworld” being exactly the type of shows I stay away from, they have both managed to captivate me and maintain a large mainstream audience despite their overwhelmingly bleak and paranoid tone.
Science fiction is often thought of as the genre of escapism when, in reality it more often serves as a reflection of current anxieties and ideologies. Pretending one is speaking about the distant future makes addressing the present that much easier, yet it’s apparent that “Black Mirror” and “Westworld” have largely abandoned this attempt at diversion.
Episodes of “Black Mirror” have criticisms that are manifold and blatant: “Nosedive” presents a grim view of social media ratings, “Hated in the Nation” depicts public shaming gone homicidal and “The Waldo Moment” presents an animated bear’s political campaign that’s nearly successful due to his no bull---- approach. They’re absurd scenarios that are just realistic enough to propel the viewer into a sort of uncanny valley, and discomfort undeniably ensues.
Meanwhile, “Westworld” plays on fears of artificial intelligence and singularity in a world where robots, or hosts as they’re called in the show, are indistinguishable from their human creators as they follow programmed narratives within a high-tech theme park called, you guessed it, “Westworld.” The show’s inevitable robot coup addresses modern fears in a world where automation and technology touch nearly every facet of our lives. And while blurring the lines that separate hosts from humans makes for some great (and obvious) plot twists, it also brings to light some inconsistencies regarding our own notions of humanity.
Perhaps the shows’ most fascinating achievement is their abilities to maintain a mainstream audience despite the feelings of existential dread they so often induce. In fact, some of the most vocal criticisms about “Westworld” and “Black Mirror” focus on how unflinchingly dark they are. Vulture’s Jackson McHenry wasn’t exactly reaching when he called “Westworld” a “bleak-fest,” and “Black Mirror” has become practically synonymous with its utter lack of happy endings. Yet, the shows’ successes indicate that perhaps many of us no longer need, or want, that particular type of escapism.
Or perhaps it’s that in an era consumed by political, ecological and technological anxieties, reality truly becomes stranger than fiction. And though the television shows often serve as cautionary tales, indicating the likely results of society’s current trajectory, they offer little in the way of possible solutions. Yet, that was never their responsibility in the first place. The easily digestible science fiction tales that present the future as a world of convenience and leisure have quickly been replaced by images of a new world even more lost than the present one. Perhaps ignorance isn’t bliss after all.
Marisa Papenfuss is a UF English senior. Her column appears every Tuesday.
