Bill Viola’s early vision of data space in his 1982 essay, “Will There Be Condominiums in Data Space?”, feels prophetic when viewed alongside Netflix’s Bandersnatch (2018). Both explore nonlinear storytelling, but they differ profoundly in depth, intention, and future potential.
Bandersnatch, a choose-your-own-adventure film, initially captures the thrill of interaction. The viewer controls Stefan’s fate, choosing between cereal brands and whether to murder his father. But this structure, while novel, quickly becomes repetitive. Its “branching” format—Viola’s own term—offers variation without true exploration. It’s a high-tech illusion of control. There’s a reason why this format of storytelling exploded for a few years and then quickly vanished.
Viola critiques this kind of logic trap. While interactive media promises new forms of engagement, he warns: “Even though the technology is interactive, this is still the same old linear logic system in a new bottle.” He urges us toward more immersive models like matrices and mental architecture—spaces where we navigate ideas, not just outcomes.
His sacred inspirations—Japanese shamanic rituals, the Greek memory palace, Eastern visual symbolism—suggest a more profound engagement with narrative. For Viola, digital storytelling should be holistic and internal, like navigating a dream. Bandersnatch, by contrast, remains procedural—a flowchart disguised as freedom.
Despite its limitations, Bandersnatch still hints at what’s possible. Viola imagined “the viewer wandering through some three-dimensional, possibly life-sized field of prerecorded or simulated scenes.” We’re not far off with VR and immersive media. New technology that is still found to be early in its possibilities. But to fulfill that promise, creators must go beyond branching logic and return to storytelling that mirrors consciousness—fluid, recursive, even spiritual.
As Viola puts it, “Applications of tools are only reflections of the users.” If we approach new tech without curiosity or care—treating it like just another gimmick—we’ll keep getting the same recycled experiences. We’ll end up with more soulless AI content clogging our feeds, or another yearly FIFA that barely pretends to evolve.
That’s what Viola warned against when he asked if we’re just building “condominiums in data space.” We take tools that could reshape storytelling, and instead use them to pump out the digital equivalent of fast food.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. Viola believed in the power of merging ancient structures—like memory temples or spiritual diagrams—with modern tools to make something deeper. Something lasting.