Game Of Thrones (Season Seven)

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

Seven Hells!  Suddenly there were only seven episodes in this seventh season of Game Of Thrones.  Sure, they were mostly longer than usual, but the overall effect of fewer, bigger instalments compared to the normal format was that there was a lack of the complication in which all other series have revelled.  Thrones’ beauty is often in its complexity, and its fierce refusal ever to compromise on this: no detail is dumbed down to promote accessibility.  In 2017, international expectations for the series were unprecedented, so it was unlikely any nascent viewers would require catering for.  This was for the fans, and by this point, there were millions of fans worldwide.  The web woven round Westeros by season six was indeed as intricate as any ensemble story-lining ever attempted.  Sixty hours of background meant that every encounter and re-encounter between characters was drenched in an excess of history.  Should this season, then, have continued to mine that deep vein, painstakingly inching things along?  Perhaps, but, instead, season seven ramps things up in a way we have never seen before.

Nevertheless, progress requires departure from the way things were done before.  In that sense, this series overhauled the old approach to big set pieces: building up to the most explosive action for an episode nine free for all (like the Battle Of The Bastards in season six).  Instead, breath-taking sequences were peppered throughout, a lavish garnish of production budget, particularly when compared to earlier seasons’ clever navigation of not being able to afford a thousand Wildlings to sweep the battlefield.  Whether it’s the Lannister forces facing a dragon attack while absconding with Tyrell gold from the Reach, or the Unsullied taking Casterly Rock, in both an imagined and a real sequence, we are spoiled in the eyeballs for untold extras in expensive costumes running generally amok.  The show is elevating itself from the biggest boxset of all time to a sequence of Hollywood blockbuster films.  This is a stroke of luck for the action fans, but the beginning of the end for what has up to now been exceptional storytelling.

Amid all this destruction, though, we begin to tally up how many prestigious families have been totally wiped out.  The Targaryens have been over since before season one, but the Tyrells get done, the Greyjoys are nearly over, the Martells mostly stabbed and the Starks are only just emerging from complete annihilation.  This leads us to one of the best threads of the whole season: the Starks getting their groove back.  We’re treated not only to Bran finally returning to Winterfell, but Arya also finally comes home after the longest time a child has ever gone out to play for without telling her parents where she is going.  Of course, Jon pops off to Dragonstone (more on this later), so it’s almost a one in, one out policy, but our hearts soar as Sansa gradually reassembles her surviving siblings around her.  Bran, however, isn’t that arsed.  He stares blankly ahead, telling people he’s the Three-Eyed Raven as if this is a Westerosi equivalent of declaring “no offence, but” before saying something awful.  He is immobile as his sisters hug him.  You start to wonder if he’s the first case of late-onset Asperger’s in the Seven Kingdom.

Nevertheless, once he has cruelly dismissed the wonderful Meera after totally mugging her off for all her help, he observes as tension seems to fester between his two sisters.  There follows the most delicious intrigue as it seems Petyr Baelish is successfully playing the Stark girls off against each other.  We’ve come so far, yet it all seems poised to fall apart.  That is, until a scene in the hall at Winterfell when Arya is brought before her sister, apparently to answer for her crimes.  The moment Sansa artfully directs proceedings to accuse Littlefinger instead of her sibling, and his subsequent oilier-than-ever squirming to get out of the situation at any cost, constitutes a huge story arc pay-off that has been built series on series before finally rewarding us as fans.

The other big reunion is the assembly of Westeros’s biggest lads for a bit of a stag weekend north of the Wall.  Berric Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr and the Hound team up with Jon Snow and pals to range into the snows to find and capture a soldier from the Night King’s army for the sole purpose of some show and tell with Cersei in order to encourage her to support them in the coming war against the dead.  Even Gendry (not seen since season three) gets to come along for a bit.  I’ve spoken before about my issue with people not wearing hats in the snow, but these lot face blizzards and zombie polar bears with loose locks blowing irresponsibly in the breeze.  That said, the whole of Beyond The Wall is one of my favourite episodes, but their recklessness extends beyond anything we could ever have imagined.  In the end, it costs a whole dragon to get a dead man in front of Cersei.  The same dragon ends up resurrected on the side of the baddies (melting the Wall in a climactic finale), while Cersei has no intention of supporting her fellow living beings.  Maybe Daenerys could have popped up there on the dragon in the first place, preventing such a big fail, but I suppose that wouldn’t have led to such exciting action.

So let’s talk about Dragonstone.  Formerly Stannis’s gaff, before Brienne offed him in season five, Daenerys moves in to a castle that seems to have been done up in the meantime.  This may be down to more daytime scenes this time around, and fewer occasions of burning relatives alive on the beach to appease the Lord Of Light, but I can’t believe they didn’t throw out the tacky old Westeros map table, or at least put some windows in that room what with all the stormy weather.  Either way, much is made of the walkway between the castle and the beach, so some location scout must be very pleased with their find featuring so heavily.  It provides plenty of vistas for Jon Snow to brood over, not to mention serving as the perfect platform for intimidating dragon flyovers.

One corner of Westeros that gets plenty of attention this time around is Oldtown, with the workings of the Citadel expanded on further through the eyes of Samwell Tarly.  For a graduate trainee, his immediate appointment to personal assistant of the Archmaester seems a bit suspect, but it at least brings into our lives the wonderful addition of Jim Broadbent’s performance.  Even with the rest of the cast’s incredible strength in their roles, it’s always smashing when another household name joins in on the fun.  Even if that fun is ignoring Samwell’s pleading to deal with the Night King or refusing to have Jorah Mormont’s greyscale treated, focusing instead on having Jon’s pal empty endless overflowing bedpans.  All being said, this element fits in seamlessly to the rest of our stories’ richness, exemplifying the fact that Game Of Thrones is now operating completely in its own universe.  While viewers can revel in the bolder action, our sense of the coming end makes inevitable our resistance to things resolving.  Just as all men must die, all good things must come to an end, and Game Of Thrones, even when not at its peak, is one of the best.

Best newcomer

This was easier back in season two when new characters popped up all the time.  This penultimate season proves to be less of an opportunity for great new faces, so I’m going to cheat and bring in someone who actually debuted in series six.  Euron Greyjoy still counts as a bit new, doesn’t he?  Either way, his goading of Jaime Lannister creates a great chance to dish out shade-throwing lines about Cersei liking a “finger up the bum” while we can also credit him with superb enunciation of the word twat.

Most valuable character

While this series is dominated by Queen Cersei’s resurgence, it’s the Night King who’s the best monarch.  Undying loyalty from his subjects?  Check – they’re already dead.  A crown that can’t be taken off?  Check – it’s quite literally growing out of his skull.  A great throwing arm?  Check – he can take out an airborne dragon with just a quick toss of one his spears.  He gets extra marks for consistency too, quietly offering an underlying, simmering tension to everything else that has unfolded, we’re now poised for his time to shine and he couldn’t be more ready.

Best death

Despite Tyrion’s protests, Daenerys incinerates two generations of the Tarlys after taking both Dickon (not Rickon) and Randyll prisoner.  Unwilling to swear loyalty, their obstinacy leads to a great dracarys moment, and we all know that Samwell probably isn’t arsed.

Jaw-dropper moment

I’ll finish with another discussion about bollocks.  Our Theon finally finds an advantage to forced castration when a disobedient Iron Islander refuses to follow his leader on a mission to rescue Yara from Euron following the epic sea battle that turns the tide against Daenerys.  Theon gets the salt kicked out of him, but it’s not until he’s able to withstand several huge blows to the crotch unaffected that the tables turn and the rascal takes another step to redemption.

Game Of Thrones (Season Five)

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

Alternative titles for this season (not sanctioned by anyone other than me) include Game Of Thrones: The Cersei Years or, of course, Shit Gets Real.  While the nudity and adult content is less gratuitous than it has sometimes erred to be, this series is the murderiest, violentest, religionest, graphicest and twistedest set of episodes yet.  As with each passing year of its by-now snowballing popularity, 2015’s trips to Westeros are lavished in increasing budgets which, rather than detracting from the sociological richness and deep characterisation, enhance the two former elements by bringing them further to life with rich and extensive imagery.  For fans of the show, this season has it all.  And for fans who know that, like winter, season eight is coming, it’s important to feast on this real peak of Thrones before everyone runs out of puff.

While the action of its predecessors saw characters take a lot longer to get around Westeros alone, season five is the start of much more rapid and extensive movement.  Arya goes to Braavos and Tyrion and Varys go to Pentos and finally reach Meereen, while Jaime journeys to Dorne (with Bronn), Sansa ends up at Winterfell, preceding Stannis’s own arrival there, and Jon Snow drags half the Night’s Watch to Hardhome.  Let’s focus on Arya for a bit, as a chance encounter with a coin in season two seems to result in her undertaking the worst work experience ever.  Determined to track down Jaqen H’gar, she petitions the House Of Black And White to let her join their organisation, wilfully sweeping its floors after purging (nearly) all of her material possessions.  And what a place.  I still can’t really work it out.  It seems to function as a sort of multi-faith prayer room (like the ones you see signs for at airports) but with a pool of poisonous water you can be given to drink if you want your dead body washed in an adjacent room, before, I think, your face is hung up in a big underground cavern for use in future assassinations.  Praying and killing: together at last.  Progressing through the training, Arya ends up in an even worse role, if that’s possible, carting unrefrigerated shellfish around a hot port city, before murdering the wrong person.  But, in fact, Meryn Trant is completely the right person, allowing Arya finally to get some more names off her kill list.  The graphic gore of Trant’s death by stabbing feels like just desserts not just for his awfulness since season one, but also his unsettling sexual preferences: beating small girls.  Arya clearly shows she’s one small girl who won’t be beaten.

But it’s our big girl who comes a cropper.  Not Brienne Of Tarth, though (whom we all love and whom the producers of the show seem to love seeing get punched in the face or stomach, mostly in season four), but Queen Cersei.  Sensing her hold of Tommen at risk due to Margaery’s skilled manipulation of her intended, Cersei forms a dangerous pact with the newly emerged High Sparrow.  But he proves to be one old man who simply won’t play her game (of thrones).  While her delicious scheming sees both Margaery and Loras locked away, the tables turn when Cersei herself is held to account for her affair with Lancel Lannister (now unrecognisible).  Enter Septa Unella (who crops up as a parent in Sex Education), showing you don’t need many lines to make a big impact.  Never is this more clearly demonstrated than in the season’s finale, Mother’s Mercy, when Cersei is finally allowed out on remand, provided she walks all the way home naked.  The scenes of her journey make uncomfortable and almost endless viewing, but Unella is there the whole way, ringing her bell, dodging the peltings of detritus, and periodically shouting “Shame.  Shame.”  In fact, this approach is a great process to adopt in the workplace for anyone who needs feedback on their performance.  No office should be without a bell and a shame parade when somebody does something wrong.

Meanwhile, over in Dorne, we have the first introduction of featured characters that I can’t help but find slightly pointless.  With Oberyn’s head smashed in, his paramour Ellaria Sand is set on revenge, despite Prince Doran’s counsel of restraint.  Three of her fightingest daughters support her claim, but their arrival all at once leaves insufficient time to establish any individuality, leaving a banal taste as their motives to act or shove their bare breasts through prison bars descend into an element of interchangeable caricature rarely seen in Westeros.  I could really do without them.

Luckily, at the other end of the scale, there is Jon Snow (at least until he is stabbed to death in the final episode).  Carefully navigating the lawlessness of Caste Black until a new Lord Commander is chosen, it’s our Jon himself who finds himself at the head of the Night’s Watch, thanks to long-time good egg Maester Aemon.  He must then cope with Stannis’s expectations of support for his kingship, and with Melisandre’s insistence he clutch her bare breasts, all while slowly realising that every Wildling he saves from the White Walkers is one that can fight against the dead in the coming battle.  How all the Wildlings got to Hardhome isn’t covered, but Jon must head there with Tormund (whose comedy we haven’t yet fully discovered) on Stannis’s spare ships to bring them home.  There then unravels, in this eighth episode, what is perhaps my favourite sequence in the whole of Game Of Thrones.  Finally, we’re combining dragon-featuring fantasy with an all-out zombie apocalypse.  The tension is high throughout, from the Wildlings’ initial suspicion of the crows, to the slowly-dawning realisation that the Night King has turned up with his army to scout for new recruits.  The sheer panic as the Wildlings run for the walls of Hardhome is chilling, while the sudden silence that follows still haunts me.  As the skeletons invade, a battle unfolds, with Jon, Dolorous Edd, Tormund and the last giant eventually paddling to safety.  But the Night King isn’t bothered.  Just look at the complacence of his expression as he reanimates the battle’s victims on the waterfront just by raising his hands and sort of shrugging nonchalantly while eyeballing Jon.  I’ve watched the episode countless times, and I still find myself struggling to breathe throughout.  In addition, my muscles tense up in angst.  You could remove the sofa from under me and I wouldn’t change position. 

Best newcomer

It’s slim pickings here, so I’m going to go for The Waif, Arya’s workplace rival in Braavos.  She’s basically a dick to Arya the whole time, so she’s only here as my aversion to her is so strong that we have to recognise her effect on the viewer.

Most valuable character

Samwell Tarly is our hero this time around, even though his most heroic turns were in season three.  It’s he who stages an impromptu nomination of Jon Snow in the race for Lord Commander, proving he’s the ultimate wingman in both backing his best pal and trolling the awful Ser Alliser Thorne.

Best death

We need to make more of a fuss about Miranda, Ramsay’s plaything and daughter of the kennel master at Winterfell.  She’s an absolute piece of work, gleefully joining in with Theon’s torture and accompanying her bastard beau when he runs down girls in the forests.  When she intercepts prisoner-wife Sansa on the battlements of Winterfell, an arrow notched, she conducts herself deliciously like the cat who’s got the cream.  But, at last, Theon does the right thing and tosses her over the edge.  Her body hits the ground unceremoniously and we yell at the telly for Sansa and Theon to escape the clutches of the bastard of Winterfell.  Such fun.

Jaw-dropper moment

The Sons Of The Harpy have to be one of the campest terrorist organisations ever seen.  Not content with shiny gold masks and colourful tunics, they move in this oily, sinister way like their going to jazz-hand you to death.  Sure, they’re successful in killing off dear old Ser Barristan and wounding Grey Worm, but their big uprising in The Dance Of Dragons sees a lot of them burned to crisps by Drogon.  But from the moment Jorah Mormont’s spear gets one square in the chest, via the stabbing of Hizdahr zo Loraq (nobody minds), to the sight of Missandei and Daenerys holding hands in fear as they’re convinced they’ve met their end in the middle of the fighting pit, this sequence rivals the Hardhome evacuation for sheer maintained tension and insurmountable peril.

Game Of Thrones (Season Three)

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

Well, I’m having a lovely time reliving Westeros’s greatest hits – not sure about the rest of you.  We’re onto series number three of this boxset to end all boxsets and, even though I think it’s my fourth time watching it all the way through, it’s still proving to be TV entertainment of the highest quality.  The toppest notch.  If you’ve not kept up, we’ve already done seasons one and two here and here (respectively), so I’ve covered everything that’s brought us to this point, as well as justifying two deviations from the usual mythology of Just One More Episode: openly discussing spoilers and splitting a programme into its constituent seasons.  But where was I?  That’s it: telling you all how happy I am with my choice to re-watch Game Of Thrones.  I can’t go wrong.  Each evening after work, there’s time for one or two instalments of this absolute favourite, before switching at 9.15 to that night’s episode of Love Island (ads fast forwarded, of course).  All going well, I’m in bed for 10pm and ready for the next day’s routine of gym, work, boxsets.  As an adult in London, it’s great to know I’m making the most of the culture the capital has to offer.

Let’s see what our pals in the Seven Kingdoms have been up to then.  Like the second series, these ten episodes continue the downward trajectory into darkness.  King (in the North) Robb’s war takes a number of ominous turns, culminating horribly in his appalling demise at his uncle’s wedding in The Rains Of Castamere.  Yes, let’s get the Red Wedding out of the way then.  This ninth episode (with a 9.9 rating on IMDB) provides a harsh reminder that every character’s days are numbered.  Losing Khal Drogo and Ned Stark in the first series wasn’t just billy-big-bollocksing from the show’s producers (and our source material writer, George R R Martin).  With a bit of knifey-knifey, a whole plotline is extinguished, along with the dynasty of the Young Wolf.  Surely Catelyn Stark, the dear old earnest mum of our favourite Northerners, is spared?  Sadly not, and not even offing Walder Frey’s newest wife in the process can spare her a slit throat at the hands of the new Frey-Bolton-Lannister coalition.  At least she won’t be making any more of those straw-based protection charms for her children, as these have been proven ineffective time and time again.

Nevertheless, this climax is as clever as it is shocking, as we share the pain of the Stark’s surprise.  So rich is the universe of Game Of Thrones that Cersei has already explained the origin of Lannister anthem, The Rains Of Castamere, to Margaery whilst threatening her at Tyrion’s unfortunate wedding to Sansa.  The tale of a family who took on Westeros’s wealthiest and perished is well known.  So when the wedding band (don’t book them for your do as they’ll end up shooting you with crossbows from the gallery) strike up the opening notes to this smash hit, Catelyn knows something is fishy.  And she should know, as she was born a Tully (with a fish sigil – lol).  The moment she peels back Roose Bolton’s sleeve to uncover his chainmail is a delicious reveal and we’re forced to come to terms with the fact we’ll never be able to predict where this show is going.  A foreshadowing of the shocks to come hits us earlier on when Jaime’s sword hand is sliced off.  I repeat: nobody is safe.

Season three is also a season of near misses.  Arya, escorted by the Hound, nearly reaches her mother and brother at the Twins before the wedding disco gets out of hand.  Jon Snow and Ygritte nearly fall off the Wall (though seem to get down the other side with no trouble at all).  Brienne is almost mauled by a bear till Jaime saves her (bringing to life another Seven Kingdoms classic).  Gendry is almost sacrificed by Melisandre until rescued by Davos, who himself almost dies of thirst while shipwrecked.  Theon nearly gets away from Ramsay.  We nearly make decisions about whether we can trust Lords Varys and Baelish.  It’s a lot of action to keep up with, but we’re in the thick of things now, too far to turn back but a long way from an end that, at this point, doesn’t even seem possible.

By this stage, though, there are some universal truths we can acknowledge about the world in which our drama is playing out.  Firstly, every room seems equipped with a jug or decanter of red wine.  The Arbor must have amazing distribution, as no character seems able to enter a chamber without pouring out and chinning some refreshment.  Secondly, someone needs to tell the Westerosi how to make mirrors.  Sansa looks unhappily at herself in what looks like a dirty tray, but this links back to my point about the lack of scientific advancement in the last few thousand years.  Thirdly, there’s always someone available and amenable to ride along carrying a banner aloft.  One-handed riding is an impressive skill, which is a good thing in a world so obsessed with allegiances, unless you’re from the Brotherhood Without Banners, who are too busy hiding in caves to worry about such extravagances.  And finally, without doubt, the Freys have the worst headwear of any family in the show.  No wonder they murder their guests.

We’re left desperate for the fourth season.  Daenerys is liberating slaves but has acquired armies, Joffrey is poised (or poisoned) to wed Margaery, Theon is becoming Reek, Samwell has learned how to kill White Walkers but the Wildlings are rounding on Castle Black.  Bring.  It.  On.

Best newcomer

Meera Reed clinches the title this season.  She might not be able to skin a rabbit as efficiently as Osha, but she looks after brother Jojen so he can tutor Bran while Hodor drags him to the Wall, and beyond.  She’s up for the danger they’ll face there.  And she has amazing diction.  I’m obsessed with the actress Ellie Kendrick, so every scene with her is a triumph.

Most valuable character

I hate to say it, but Tywin Lannister emerges as the main man in this third outing.  His scheming finally pays off in the war against the Starks, plus he out-manoeuvres the Tyrells to force Loras into betrothal with Cersei, as well as making Tyrion marry Sansa.  At the periphery, Shae seethes, but is this just because she can’t resist a powerful old man?  Fixated on his legacy, Tywin won’t even let royal decorum get in his way, relishing in the exquisite moment he gets to send King Joffrey to bed without any supper.

Best death

This is actually the worst death, but I want to call it out as significant due to how overlooked it so often is.  Ros has been with us from the start, bedded by Theon and Tyrion in the North before making her way to fortune in King’s Landing, become a sort of PA to Littlefinger while still dabbling in some light sex work.  Sadly, Joffrey’s idea of eroticism results in her skewered with crossbow arrows and an unsung hero disappears from our screen.  Played beautifully by Esmé Bianco, Ros shows us that decent people simply can’t flourish in Westeros.

Jaw-dropper moment

There are too many to count but stuck in mind is the revolt of the nasty-looking members of the Night’s Watch at Craster’s Keep.  The tension that simmers as he refuses his guests sufficient food and generally acts like a dick when it comes to his wives (who are also his daughters) palpates before our eyes, before patiences run out and he is dispatched along with dear old Jeor Mormont (while his son, Jorah, is lost in petty rivalry with Barristan Selmy in Essos).  It’s a bleak moment, but it sets us up for some much-deserved vengeance later on.  And with that, it’s time for another episode as we journey into the fourth season.