Game Of Thrones (Season Six)

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

Welcome to peak Game Of Thrones.  As these episodes first aired, this programme was easily the biggest show in the world.  Rising to such pressures, the show’s producers mostly maintained their confidence with the approach that had worked so well thus far: careful character development, reaping the sowed seeds of earlier instalments’ storylines, adding layer upon layer of richness to the imagined world of Westeros.  The ultraviolence is of course still there, and the boobies, while the culling of characters, large and small, alone or in groups, continues unabated.  The whole thing feels like a gradual focusing in on what’s really important, lasering through so much detail to what is actually an incredibly tight narrative.  In its course, events tangibly pivot, the characters having reached the furthest distances of their spreading out, and, as if pulled by gravity, reunions, regroupings and rapprochements punctuate our progress so that we finally feel a sense of an approaching ending.  Yet, as fans, we hope this remains a long way off, as any Game Of Thrones content is quality content.

One of the most significant reunifications is that of Sansa and her (supposed) half-brother Jon Snow at Castle Black in the fourth episode.  She hasn’t seen any close family since the end of series one, and, with Jon at the Wall since that season’s second episode, it’s remarkable how much we have longed for them to embrace each other as siblings, despite how little time on screen they’ve actually ever spent together.  With Sansa finally free of Ramsay, and Jon’s watch ended (because he died and was resurrected by Melisandre, the latter proving useful for once), the two reform the Starks and set out to gather the Northern houses to their cause against the Boltons.  This culminates in another legendary episode: Battle Of The Bastards.  While not the only instalment in the season with a 9.9 rating on IMDB, this episode boldly declares not just that Game Of Thrones now has as much budget as a Hollywood blockbuster, but also that it can handle epic scenes just as well as, if not better than, any cinema fare.  Dominating nearly the whole episode (with just a touch of Daenerys and her deliciously sexually charged first meeting with Yara Greyjoy) this immense sequence takes grip and never lets go.  From Ramsay’s cruel execution of Rickon (I’m still devastated) to the moment when all seems lost as the Wildlings and Northmen are pincered against a pile of dead bodies by the Boltons’ spears, there is no let up.  And you don’t want any: this is pure pay-off for hours and hours of careful, artful build up.  As Ramsay’s own hounds devour his smug face off while Sansa enjoys witnessing his just desserts, we’re left to remark at how ambitious an act of story-telling her whole journey and transformation is.

Meanwhile, her younger sister is also awash in character development.  Arya spends a lot of this season at the theatre, on a job from her new employer, the Faceless Men.  Watching Ned Stark’s beheading and Joffrey’s season-four poisoning enacted by luvvies serves not only as a great recap, but also brings to life what succulent tabloid fodder the exploits of the Lannisters and their like would provide in any news cycle.  Before indulging in this hobby, though, Arya is busy being blind, the punishment for using a face without permission.  A girl has been very naughty.  Of course, workplace bully, The Waif, is on the scene, beating Arya with a stick, proving she really is a nasty piece of work who goes about beating up the disabled.  She later pursues Arya through the higgledy-piggledy streets of Braavos in thrilling chases, brutally murdering the lovely Lady Crane in the process and causing a lot of fruit to be spilled, much to the ire of hardworking market traders, so the moment when we see The Waif’s face added to the wall at the House Of Black And White is a cause for deep satisfaction.  Don’t mess with Arya, ok?

Whilst the youngest Stark girl is free to get home, we’re also reintroduced to her old travelling companion, the Hound.  Absent for the whole of season five (like Bran and pals) to give the other plotlines room to breathe and catch up, the scarred one resurfaces in a sept-building crew, learning life lessons from a guest-starring Ian McShane before he is hanged in his own construction by some deviant members of the Brotherhood Without Banners, who also massacre the rest of the workers for the sake of completion.  In true Thronesian style, Clegane Junior gets bloody revenge and we start to trust our feeling that maybe he is one of the good guys, even though he did punch Brienne, Sansa and Arya a lot.

The sept-building sequences here, though, can tend to feel like a bit of bagginess when compared to other, much tighter structures.  I’m talking about The Door.  This episode brings together a great deal, explaining Hodor’s origins with the eye-opening wonder of a true epiphany, all while detailing the origins of the Night King and culminating in another great burst of zombie apocalypse as the lair of the Three-Eyed Raven is compromised and invaded.  Poor old Meera has to drag Bran though countless blizzards while he wargs about, but luckily Uncle Benjen crops up to save the day.  Given how many scenes play out in snowstorms, I’m surprised more characters don’t take to hats.  Jon Snow and Meera both have luscious curly hair, but it’s not enough to keep their ears warm in biting winds.  I just get concerned for them.

Talking of septs, it’s all getting a bit bothersome over at Cersei’s.  Margaery only ends her imprisonment by faking devotion (whereas the split ends look real), saving her grandmother’s life by surreptitiously urging her to flee despite being under the hawk-like glare of Septa Unella.  As all the Sparrow and High Sparrow inconvenience arises from Cersei’s own scheming, it’s only fitting that she should endeavour to end it with her greatest scheme to date.  While the massive explosion at Baelor’s Sept results in the cast genocide of her dreams (seeya Margaery, Loras, Mace, Kevan, the High Sparrow himself and even little Lancel in the cellars beneath), the loss of his beloved proves too much for her last surviving child, and King Tommen, the first and probably last of his name, tosses himself out of a Red Keep window (not a euphemism) while the flames burn in the distance.  As a series climax, the tension that builds to the wildfire tearing through half of King’s Landing is irresistible, from Lancel spotting those bright green drops, to Margaery realising everyone in the sept is in danger.  None of the seven gods save the High Sparrow and sadly his condescending ramblings are no more.  This final episode in fact averages a death every five minutes, with Grandmaester Pycelle stabbed to death by Qyburn’s kids’ club, and Walder Frey’s throat sliced open by Arya in super assassin mode, potentially borrowing some skills from old pal Hot Pie to bake Walder’s sons into a pie that shows absolutely no evidence of a soggy bottom.  Just a fingertip.

Up North, Bran’s visions further flesh out the Mad King’s backstory, with some genius casting giving us a brilliant young Ned Stark (fingers crossed for a spin-off of Robert’s Rebellion with the same cast) who out Sean-Beans Sean Bean.  And we have the formation of a good-guys supergroup, with Ser Davos Seaworth teaming up with Jon Snow and his Wildling brethren (including the hilarious Tormund).  Melisandre, though, is first to be voted off, after Davos confronts her about burning to death the lovely Princess Shireen (a scene so horrific I completely omitted it from my season five post).

And finally, in the Bay formerly known as Slaver’s, Daenerys continues to kick arse.  Righting centuries of Dothraki sexism, she liberates the Dosh Khaleen and burns the Khals, amassing the world’s largest horde to deliver Meereen from those pesky slavers (up to mischief again).  She makes Tyrion her hand, luckily missing the excruciating scenes where he tries to make Missandei and Grey Worm drink or tell jokes, but dumps Daario to have him babysit her cities.  But not before she’s burned a few enemy ships on her dragons.  Maybe she even enjoys it a bit.  Maybe.  We then launch into the acceleration that comes to characterise these later series.  Varys somehow flits back and forth to Dorne in journeys that would have taken a season each if they were in series two or three, but he quickly gets Ellaria Sand and Olenna Tyrell onside (not before she’s cussed the Sand Snakes which shows that great minds think alike), and before we know it, Daenerys is finally (after talking about it for six seasons) returning to Westeros with an army.  We have momentum and the conclusion feels in sight.

Best newcomer

Let’s go for Melessa Tarly (also in Sex Education).  When Samwell brings Gilly and Little Sam home for a stopover en route to Old Town, she exudes the warmth and care that we can see shining through in her heroic son.  While his father almost chokes on his venison at the sight of a Wildling dinner guest (he would have preferred a whore), Melessa shows only compassion.

Most valuable character

Lady Lyanna Mormont is a clear fan favourite, whether offering 62 Bear Islanders to the Stark cause, or outdoing all the other Northern lords when it comes to her loyalty, resurrecting the old cry of “The King in the North” while pointing out that every other house compared to hers has been rubbish.

Best death

Whoever built Pyke had little concern for health and safety.  Atop cliff stacks, each part of the castle teeters over churning stormy seas, linked only by creaking rope bridges designed to swing in the constant wind and rain.  Alas, then, that Balon Greyjoy, didn’t ever have these reinforced or develop  a better centre of gravity, as his cheeky brother Euron easily tosses him over the edge (not a euphemism, again) and the man we’ve seen be mean to Yara and Theon over and over plummets to his death on the rocks below.

Jaw-dropper moment

In the season’s closing minutes, we see Lyanna Stark whispering in her brother’s ear while she dies after childbirth.  Then we see the baby in Ned’s arms, apparently doing Blue Steel.  What secret did she impart?  We’ll have to wait till the next season to find out, but with Jon Snow’s face suddenly replacing the baby’s in the next shot, the rumours of his origin finally appear to get the first hint of confirmation.  Jon… Targaryen?

Game Of Thrones (Season One)

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

Right then, EVERYBODY, here come some big ones.  I haven’t put myself under this much pressure since I took on Love Island.  But don’t worry.  I’ve every confidence this will be another amazing post.  When I first started Just One More Episode, Game Of Thrones was at the heart of my plans for the kinds of boxsets I wanted to be talking about (but have ended up with posts on Naked Attraction and Keeping Up With The Kardashians instead…)  But why has it taken 131 posts to reach this momentous occasion?  Well, I had planned to cover this show in the run up to its eighth and final season, but a cruel twist of fate saw me in a household without access to Sky Atlantic, dashing my carefully lain plans to review all prior series in preparation for this final swansong (as I had done for the two previous instalments – this is already too much fanboying).  But the panic is over.  I am now the proprietor of my very own Sky contract.  I’ve alluded already (Chernobyl) to the fact that this pivotal saga didn’t figure among the available boxsets when I first sat down with my new Sky Q remote and box, but suddenly it’s back on there!  And how did I find this out?  An advert in a podcast (Teenage Mixtape) voiced by none other than Sean Bean himself (that has since been served to me 500 more times and that I now can’t skip fast enough).  So, no more putting up with ersatz-Thrones (I’m looking at you, The Witcher), I’ve been back to Westeros (again) and I’m bloody loving it.

Before we begin, though, let me explain two key rule breaks with my approach.  Firstly, we’re going to split things up by series.  Normally, once I’ve “done” a programme, I move on.  It’s over.  No returnsies.  The only way I’ll ever go back to it is if it adds a colon and some more words (like Narcos: Mexico) by which action it definitively becomes a new show.  But this programme is more than that.  For a while, it was a global cultural phenomenon, with episodes commanding feature film budgets.  It’s the ur-boxset, the originator from which our new norms of staying in and watching episodes eclipsed any desire to brave it out into the rain and sit among a variety of coughs and illuminated smartphone screens in the cinema or, heaven forbid, actually talk to people.  Secondly, I’m alerting you to spoilers.  Typically, I take pains not to reveal any twists or unexpected plot progressions that can’t be gleaned from a marketing trailer.  But, with this show, if you haven’t seen it yet then you simply need to get off my blog right now.  This post ruining a Game Of Thrones twist is the least of your worries.

So how did you discover Game Of Thrones?  This is the question nobody is asking me, but I’ll have you all know I was early to this party.  I remember some tube posters across the tracks of the Northern Line featuring an array of moodily-lit and characterful faces.  It didn’t say much about the show or emphasise its fantasy roots too heavily, but something piqued my interest and I remember adding the first series to my Lovefilm account, with the DVDs arriving soon after (I told you this was a long time ago – that sentence is definitively historical memoir).  Sure, the rest of the world caught up and jumped on the bandwagon, but my first moments in Westeros still feel as if they were only yesterday.  Like the books, which I later devoured, each series’ opening scene features only peripheral (short-lived) characters, setting up some dramatic tension before those famous credits roll.  Series one’s prelude foreshadows the coming threat of the White Walkers, but keeps the northern bogeyman obscured in enough mystery that their plausibility is easily bought.  And that’s the beauty of this first foray into Thrones, the fantastical elements are only gradually revealed to us in such a way that we accept them as reality.

The key example of this are the dragons that finally emerge from the Essos ashes around poor old Daenerys’s (almost constantly) naked body.  At first, they are just some calcified eggs, and characters only speak of them as legends that died out hundreds of years beforehand.  Seems legit, right?  Only carefully is their being escalated into the fire-breathing beasts of the later series, with no serious viewer dismissing them as excessive as the show has thoughtfully prepped us for their coming glory.  But no, it’s not just the dungeons and dragons that draw us in.  Game Of Thrones has one of the richest settings ever attempted in TV.  Again, the books provide plenty here as a source material, but I commend the first episode and its offspring in introducing us to a world that’s totally made up yet easily believable.  The Seven Kingdoms are rich in history and folklore, dogged by opposing religious rites and ineffective government, riddled by rivalries and grudges among the nobility and regions.  It’s the inspiration for Brexit Britain.  The only question mark I have is related to the fact that there doesn’t seem to have been a single technological or societal advance in thousands of years – it’s made clear that people have lived this way for a long time.  But I can forgive this as the complexity is still delicious enough to fuel eight series of epic drama.

So cast your minds back to how that first episode drew you into a world where there were so many truths to establish before we could even progress to storyline.  Quickly, the viewer progresses from “Who are these serious-looking people shrouded in fur?” to “Ah yes, it seems an uneasy truce has descended on the lands and brought peace yet is about to bust apart at the seams.”  It’s artfully done.  For me, I lost all doubt as the Stark children stumbled across their direwolf pups.  I was in.  Sure, some initial lines from certain cast members carry a slight hesitance due to their pomposity, but that all passes quickly, and things get going without delay.

On that note, I should probably allude to the main thrust of season one: what actually happens.  Well, I’ve been thinking that it could otherwise be known as Ned Stark Investigates: The King’s Landing Mysteries.  But it’s more than murder mystery.  Thrones’ beauty is in its layers.  We have the present actions where Ned is strong-armed into leaving most of his family to take up a position of Hand Of The King to King Robert.  However, before that, and before even episode one, we go back a layer in time to the circumstances of Jon Arryn’s murder as a result of uncovering the truth about the supposed Baratheon line of succession.  Beyond that, yet another layer exists that binds the myriad characters (numerous as they are): the teaming up of the Westerosi houses against the Mad King, resulting in the overthrowing and end of the Targaryen dynasty.  The interplay between these layers of time propel every scene from “Oh look there might be a dragon” to politicking, intrigue and an impending sense of doom.  And this is all without mentioning the critical layer of peril present at all times: the coming White Walker trouble beyond the wall.  Filter this all through several theatres of action, factor in the geographically distant yet essential narrative of Daenerys and Viserys in Essos, multiply by a thousand, and you can only conclude that Game Of Thrones owes its success to crediting the viewer with the ability to cope with a lot of information.

Language, too, plays a part.  Each character has a nickname which, rather than complicating things, somehow makes them easier to remember, from Jaime Lannister’s Kingslayer to Petyr Baelish’s Littlefinger.  Each house also has its own mantra that easily slips into common parlance.  As a result, we all know winter is coming.  But a further stickiness comes from two other areas: gratuitous sex and relentless gore.  All the highbrow political debate is one thing, but at any moment a tavern whore might flash her downstairs, or the pointy end of a sword might suddenly protrude from someone’s eyeball.  It’s another layer of jeopardy among an embarrassing excess.  But it leads to one of Thrones’ most credible points: nobody is safe.  Big name actors like Jason Momoa and Sean Bean fail to survive to the end of the series, setting into motion a trend that heightens further the already great stakes at play.  Thus, we start to see how this became the biggest show in the world, but let’s conclude on some gentle trolling below.

Best newcomer

Slightly redundant here as everyone is new, but let’s take a moment to acknowledge the rise and fall of Khal Drogo here.  Never one to miss chest day at the gym (or wear a top), Drogo has mastered the smoky eye off a YouTube tutorial but continues to struggle with basic Common Tongue (English).  He prefers to mount his women from behind, but it’s actually strangely touching when Daenerys finally tames him sexually.  Sadly, his immune system fails to protect him from a rusty axe blade, but not before he spectacularly kills Viserys by pouring molten gold on him just when he’s at his most annoying.  We’ve all dreamt of doing this to a colleague, which is why smelting is not allowed in offices.

Most valuable character

Playing beyond her status here, I’m going to go for Mirri Maz Duur.  Not one to let a bad hair day stop her in any endeavour, Mirri is a crucial catalyst who sets Daenerys off on her path to emergence as a great leader.  From her wonderful accent, to her cheery screams as she is burned alive, Mirri can take a bow for life-coaching the Mother Of Dragons to be the best that she can be.

Best death/jaw-dropper moment

Back in Westeros, it has to be Ned Stark’s head rolling around on the floor that counts as one of the most shocking moments in episode nine, nay, the whole series.  Every pointer leads us to believe he has done enough to save himself, despite our regret that he seems prepared to compromise his morals to survive, but Joffrey’s bloodlust wins out and the seeds are sown for shit to kick off for seven further seasons.