Westworld 1973 Review The Original Theme Park Nightmare Before HBO Got Involved

Westworld (1973) Review: The HBO’s Theme Park Nightmare Got Nothing on Its Briliant Predecessor

Warning: Before you read this review, I must admit something that makes Max completely unbearable during our writer’s room debates. He wins this round. Westworld way back in 1973 (Britannica) was better than HBO’s over-indulgent, maze-spinning reboot. I recently watched Michael Crichton’s original film with my Year 12 film studies students, and it’s somewhat mortifying to admit how much better and sleeker this tight 88-minute sci-fi thriller (IMDb) is than its bloated, pretentious follow up from forty years later.

No, this isn’t just me getting old and wanting to live in the past. I work with teenagers that scoff at films released before they were born, and they were genuinely spooked by Yul Brynner’s murderous android cowboy. Westworld works because it knows exactly what film it wants to be and doesn’t meander into lofty ambitions like its sequel. In its ninety minutes running time, it holds together a tangible thesis on technology and consumerism that asks ‘what happens when our fun stops being fun?’ Deliciously simple premise executed almost perfectly.

When Westworld was released back in 1973 (Britannica), it did so at a unique time that played into American culture’s fear of both technology and consumerism. Computers were still arcane, menacing machines that felt otherworldly in a way that modern smartphones do not. Directed by sci-fi stalwart Michael Crichton, who made a career out of asking “what if science gets in our way?” Westworld was perhaps his most razor-focused example of that.

Discussing [previous reviews I’ve done ranking the greatest science fiction films of the 1970s], Westworld usually ends up causing division amongst our team because it feels like a completely different kind of science fiction than what we talk about on this website. It’s not a heady, literary sci-fi experience that uses fantastic elements to tackle big themes. Westworld assumes those big themes and focuses on telling a fun, white-knuckle thriller using sci-fi building blocks.

### It’s Fun Being A Gangster: The Horror of Commodifying Experience

I love telling my students this about Westworld’s central thesis: this movie is not about robots taking over. Westworld is about commodifying experience; so perfectly normalising our urges and desires that we can pay money to act them out with zero repercussions. Delos, the ultra-futuristic theme park corporation, sell an unrivalled experience. Live out your fantasy life as a cowboy, knight or Roman soldier within these perfected facsimiles of each for $1,000 a day.

Everything about your stay caters to your every whim. Beautiful android hosts meet you at your hotel before escorting you to whichever theme you booked. They know your name. They remember everything you say. All your motor skills are restored after your long journey from the real world. Nothing can go wrong on vacation, because your hosts’ entire programming involves servicing your needs.

Except what happens when your darkest fantasies don’t involve getting sunburnt on a carousel? Delos’ guests don’t just want to ride horses and rescue princesses. Many of them want to unleash their inner gangster, shooting and stabbing hosts that can’t fight back without consequence. For a small administrative fee, android bodies can be wiped and replaced with identical models that look like your friend that you can murder with impunity.

What makes this so unsettling is how familiar it still feels in 2018. Human beings love to cheque our violence at the door and go on vacations from being empathetic. We raise troops to massacre foreign countries in our name, then congratulate ourselves for funding schools in the ruins we left behind. Westworld just holds up a funhouse mirror to how we’re already treating technology. Video games that reward us for murdering thousands. Social media that allows us to dehumanise strangers behind keyboards. Tourism that allows us to fly thousands of miles to treat foreign cultures as our playground.

Michael Crichton understood that our ability to live out our consequence-free fantasies would only get more sophisticated as technology became more sophisticated. And that eventually our capacity for the ethics would lag frighteningly behind our capacity for violence if we weren’t careful.

We never condemn the guests for their behaviour. Peter Martin, played by Richard Benjamin, is a family man who just wants to blow off steam after a nasty divorce. His partner in crime, John Blane played by James Brolin, is rougher around the edges but no subject villain. They are ‘normal people’ allowed by corporate fiction to commit heinous crimes because it’s just fantasy. Fun fun fun, the rubber hits the road when Peter’s day of fun and games has real consequences.

### Western Movies with Guns That Don’t Go Bang: How Westworld Differentiated Itself

The films that had portrayed artificial humans before Westworld played exclusively in the mind. They asked questions about identity, humanity, and how we define what it means to be ‘real’. Westworld eschews all of these questions to focus on a consumerist idea. The robots within Delos aren’t struggling to be more human. In fact, for all intents and purposes, they function quite admirably as humans. But they are malfunctioning machines.

In skipping all the philosophical gunplay that made 2001 a cinema milestone and focusing solely on technology as product, Westworld presented a new kind of science fiction monster. Forbidden Planet’s Robbie the Robot or even the hero of 2001 weren’t exactly mirrors we recognised ourselves in. Their struggle with technology wasn’t about us, it was about them. Westworld’s hosts are mirrors we see ourselves through too clearly.

Yul Brynner’s Gunslinger isn’t murdering his victims because he knows he’s alive. He’s killing them because his restraint programming malfunctions and he’s the best shot in the west. Crichton barely bothers to explain why the Gunslinger turns homicidal. He just… does. Which, when you stop and think about it, is far more frightening.

When our technology stops being our product and starts malfunctioning, we don’t mourn it. We rage-quit and delete the apps. Westworld’s Gunslinger isn’t lamenting his existence or trying to free himself from his programming. He’s killing because he can. Because that’s what Murderous Android Guy with No Subplot is programmed to do.

There’s a medical detachment to the way Michael Crichton theorises technology that makes his work so distinctive. He doesn’t fall into the trap of explaining artificial intelligence as if it thinks and feels like we do. His androids don’t talk about struggling with a sense of self or dealing with identity crises. When something breaks down in Westworld, people die.

### The Gunslinger Was Just The Coolest Android Characterdesign

The Gunslinger is iconic for a reason. But what made Yul Brynner so terrifying was how restrained he played the murderous android. He barely reacts. He barely emotes. Brynner’s motivations for shooting our hero aren’t that he wants to run around Westernville Town proclaiming his humanity. He’s killing Peter Martin because Martin is in his way, and the Gunslinger was programmed to kill humans that interfere with his routines.

You can feel every wire and technical aspect holding the world together as the film unsettles you with its realism. Westworld featured some of the most realistic production design of any movie at the time. The idea that these fantasy lands could fool your every sense was at the heart of the film’s appeal. Everything about Westworld looks lived in and authentic… right until you catch it staring back at you.

Stroll through Westernland, and you’ll feel like you’ve stepped back in time. Everything from the set dressing to the costumes looks genuinely lived in and authentic. But then you start to notice that the saloon doors never ever ever ever slam. Or that the shopfronts are too perfectly constructed to be real Western roadside businesses. Nothing is quite real enough in Westworld.

The film wisely uses its three theme lands as broad act breaks. Each landscape is dramatically different from the next, and they dictate the types of activities guests can engage in. These wild swings between settings become incredibly significant once Peter realises his life is in danger. What follows is a showcase of every type of fantasy Delos offers as our protagonist runs for his life.

### Codes, Keypads, and Dead Computers: Our Fear of Dependency on Machines We Don’t Understand

Westworld is very much a product of its Cold War time period. America was starting to understand how fragile our relationship with computers was. They were becoming more sophisticated by the year but were still mumbo-jumbo magic boxes to most people. Everyone in the ’70s knows someone that could build a computer from scratch. It wasn’t viewed as friendly consumer technology.

Watching technicians stroll through their tech labs ping-ponging lines of code through the pneumatic tubes feels deliciously retro. Reminding us that all this was managed by live operators watching monitors wasn’t science fiction, it was the recent past. Nowadays we unplug blinking servers likeforgettable appliances. No one watched them work.

It starts off small, but once you pop the freakin’ matrix it never stops popping. A robotic snake bites a guest. Oh, they weren’t programmed to bite humans that day. A fistfight between robots at the saloon ends early when one contestant repeatedly declines to fight. Then our heroes stumble into the programmers’ room and find everything has gone dark.

Humans didn’t used to trust tech we couldn’t understand, we feared it. Artificial intelligence taking over our lives was a very real fear in the ’70s. When your tech support requires two full teams of engineers to restore operations after an automatic safety switch should’ve kicked in, you know you’ve messed up.

Which is precisely what happens to Michael Crichton’s androids. They don’t go rogue by demanding human rights or because they can feel. They malfunction. Their programming went haywire, and instead of doing their factory-recommended job of dying efficiently and realistically, they started hunting down guests because that’s what humans do to them.

The Gunslinger himself is a perfect example of what made these theme lands so fun. Whilst guns don’t kill people in Westernland, programmed androids do. At one point Peter sneaks into the robot zoo and begins tinkering with the Gunslinger’s programming. He jams the Gunslinger’s guns so that they won’t fire. It’s amazing what you can get away with in Westworld when you refuse to let reality get in the way of fun.

Yul Brynner’s android assassin was never switched on to question his existence or seek out meaning. He’s here to provide guests with a realistic and violent Western experience. Everything about his programming screams f*** you and kill yourself before this mountain of perfection does. The Gunslinger represents everything that is appealing about Westworld.

### Streaming Westworld: How it Holds Up Today

Streaming services have made it easier than ever to revisit classics that paved the way for modern science fiction. Watching Westworld through a modern lens highlights many of its groundbreaking contributions to the genre. Westworld was released with a modest budget considering its massive cultural impact (The Numbers). Grossing $10 million at the worldwide box office (The Numbers), it proved that there was a market for smart sci-fi thrillers.

With a 7.0 rating on IMDb (IMDb) and 67% score on Rotten Tomatoes (Rotten Tomatoes), Westworld may not have been a universal crowd-pleaser on release, but it maintained a devoted cult following that has only grown with time. Many of its themes feel extremely relevant today in a world dominated by screen technology and infinite binge watching.

Grounding its high concept in the profits and loss columns helped Westworld anticipate many aspects of modern pop culture. Everything from our fascination with lost silicon cities ( mysteriously empty server farms ) to the modern Military-Industrial-Entertainment complex ( Disney buying EVERYTHING) we see today. Movies love to portray the future of technology run amok, but Westworld grounded its central conflict in business.

Not only does the corporation give Park Managers every incentive to turn a blind eye to the violence, but they need things to run smoothly to pay the bills. When hosts start killing park goers, Delos doesn’t shut it down to assess the problems. They need guests through the door lest the Investors discover their hosts expire before the warranty runs out. For my students that have only known Uber and Lyft, Westworld plants its dystopian stakes in very relatable corporate sand.

HBO saw an opportunity to drill those stakes even deeper and milked it for all it was worth. Westworld isn’t perfect. But I find it harder and harder to believe there was a need for a reboot at all when the original holds up this beautifully.

Westworld dared to imagine a world in which our toys became untethered from our expectations and started operating outside their programming parameters. How can we truly trust a world that machines are minded by corp

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Diane

Diane teaches English in Philadelphia and uses sci-fi to make teenagers care about literature. She writes about how the genre reflects real-world anxieties—from climate fears to social rebellion—with humor, warmth, and the occasional classroom story.