With prestige TV, sometimes less is more

We live in an era of peak television – peak prestige television. Shows with prolific stars, massive budgets, and high production value are competing as viciously as the rest, sometimes at the cost of what the writers actually mean to say.

As we fall for labyrinthine shows like Westworld, full of twists and puzzles and sweeping monologues about humanity, it can be easy to get lost in the noise and lose sight of the narrative. As awesome as it is to be challenged by the shows we watch, prestige TV needs to take itself less seriously and spend more time telling the story.

There have always been television shows that stood out from the pack by challenging viewers, but many in our current era can be traced back to Lost. From the outset, Lost teased elements of grand mystery and sci-fi, but it didn't really lean into that until its middle seasons. At its height, the show was an enthralling experience to watch week-to-week, with fans unraveling and analyzing every detail from the latest episode.

The easiest explanation for Lost disappointing fans in the finale is that it didn't solve the many mysteries, but it's not that simple. Lost opted for an emotional and surprisingly spiritual conclusion to the series – but the tepid reception applies to Season 6 as a whole, a season which not only opted to leave mysteries unsolved, but introduced dozens of new and pointless ones in the process.

Lost is a prime example of a show that fell victim to the weight upon its shoulders. Somewhere between the time travel, the science cult, and the dichotomy of good and evil, the show lost (sorry) sight of its own vision. Remember "The Temple?" Probably not, because that's around when we faced true doom – when the pressure to surprise viewers every week eclipsed any obligation to true and direct storytelling.

It was a cautionary tale for the approaching golden age of television, and a lesson some shows still struggle to learn from.

Season 2 of Legion has fallen largely under the radar, perhaps because the first was both substantive and stylized. A lot of Legion takes place inside vivid visualizations of characters' minds, and that can be a lot to climb aboard with as a viewer.

If you accept the premise and the artistic decision that comes with it, Legion becomes something beautiful. In its second season, the show indulges in standalone episodes and deep-dives – like Atlanta, but with more emphasis on plot and the nefarious telepath who's going to kill everyone. Legion's loop of Sydney's life in "Chapter 12" and its hypothetical imagining of possible futures in "Chapter 14" create a mesmerizing mosaic of the characters and world of the show.

Another show that stunned fans and critics in its debut season was USA's Mr. Robot, with ambitious storytelling rooted in Elliot as an unreliable narrator. The second season opened by hanging a neon sign over this technique, and from there it degenerated. The show's appeal was always Rami Malek's performance, enhanced by the show's mesmerizing cinematography and use of music – not in the elaborate monologues about society, tempting though they may be.

In an effort to play into its signature gimmicks, Season 2 boiled down to a prioritization of style over substance, particularly when it came to Elliot (Malek) and Mr. Robot (Christian Slater). Plot was often lost in this attempt to strike lightning once more, and as a result the show lost significant viewership before an actually decent Season 3 that relied on moving the story forward instead of piling twists on twists.

Which brings us to Westworld.

The HBO show has been hit or miss in its second season, and this correlates directly with how meta each episode is. Episode 4, "Riddle of the Sphinx," has been called the best of the series (when it aired) for stripping down its storyline. Bernard (Jeffrey Wright) stays in one timeline throughout the episode, and the primary story is the deterioration over time of James Delos (Peter Mullan) and William (Jimmi Simpson/Ed Harris). The best moments occur in clipped, simple dialogue between these two characters, as well as the carefully choreographed silence and gestures in between.

The show broke format again with "Akane No Mai" and stayed straightforward in "Phase Space." "Kiksuya," focused on a character we barely knew, often with subtitles, earned a five-star review for injecting a heavy dose of humanity into the show's sentient, rebellious hosts. There's a reason The Americans was a steady critical darling for six seasons; it's linear, sure, but it's also deeply personal.

Westworld Season 1 is a very different viewing experience the second time around, when you know all the twists (which the internet predicted from a mile away anyway). Without the gimmick of suspense, parts of it feel thin – weighed down by monologues about life and death's violent delights where it could be showing us those things with Delos and Dolores and Akecheta.

Sustaining a complicated television show is a tricky task in 2018, especially for newer shows in danger of a sophomore slump. But maybe the key is to go back to basics, to simple storytelling that surprises audiences by breaking from format, not by loading up on timelines and twists (which are more effective when spread out).

Audiences like to be surprised, but they also like to know what's going on. Let's keep that a priority.