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 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 Four)

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

The fourth season is the first series of Game Of Thrones I remember being covered in the media.  This dragon-based fare was no longer the niche preserve of its traditional audience; it had broken out into the mainstream.  Coverage talked of the arrival of Pedro Pascal (from Narcos) and Indira Varma (from Luther) as key Dornishmen and women, bringing another of the Seven Kingdoms’ countrymen into our theatre of action.  With the Red Wedding a distant memory, and its celebratory murders extinguishing a whole dynasty of characters (Catelyn, Robb, Talisa), series four is marked by new pairings for key players as they embark on new journeys, while established groups take on further complications that, together, leave the impression of a universe expanding following a big bang and drifting further and further away from ever being resolved in the near future.  As a viewer, this was one of the most thrilling and compelling parts of Game Of Thrones’ appeal: we could see ourselves treated to endless high-quality, imagination-rich, boob-and-nudity-riddled ultraviolent content.

Everything pivots on the second episode’s notorious poisoning of King Joffrey.  As ever, a reminder, if ever we needed one, that nobody is safe, but it is gratifying to watch him asphyxiate in his mother’s arms after so cruelly tormenting every single guest at his nuptials.  This in turns fits the Thronesian wedding trend of every ceremony being marred by a death (the Dothraki will be impressed).  While this assassination robs us of Jack Gleeson’s delightfully camp yet sinisterly threatening performance, it sets into motion the intrigue and scheming required to replace the entire thrust of our storyline around the Young Wolf.  Tyrion ends up accused of killing his nephew and threatened with execution instead of being given the firm handshake we surely owe anyone who delivers the little bastard his comeuppance.  This allows Peter Dinklage to deliver more of his outstanding acting rage, moving on from irreverence and intoxication, building instead on his sensitive treatment of new (and unwilling) wife Sansa.  Persecuted by his entire family and, in fact, the entire realm, at his farcical trial, it’s his betrayal by Shae (whom I never liked) that leads him to deliver one of his most memorable soliloquys, admitting guilt to his only real crime in their eyes: being a dwarf.  The series’ rip-roaring finale sees us cheering our Tyrion along as he strangles Shae with Lannister gold (how ironic) and crossbows down his own dad and veteran actor Charles Dance while he passes his nightsoil.  Tyrion is then spirited from Westeros in a dual act of derring-do by dream team Varys and Jaime.

The devil, though, is in the detail.  The main culprits in the poisoning passed me by on my first viewing, but now I have enjoyed the episodes several times, I am able to pick out more foreshadowing, bigger clues and a great deal of stark obviousness that I had previously failed to detect.  Beating her husband to an escape from King’s Landing, Sansa’s flight takes place in the chaos that immediately follows.  Again, I defy anyone not to scream along at her progress as she dashes through the capital’s alleyways, placing blind trust in the ill-fated Ser Dontos Hollard, only to be delivered into the little hands of Littlefinger.  She manages to see out the series at the Eyrie, but we all know that the abuse coming for her in the fifth season will compound her vile treatment throughout seasons one, two and three.

Meanwhile, a lot more of the action unfolds beyond the borders of the Seven Kingdoms.  Daenerys is taking over Meereen and freeing slaves, building her retinue of core supporters but sadly ending the bristling tension between Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Jorah Mormont after she discovers the previous duplicity of the latter (much to the former’s glee).  Bran, who helps us track the passing of time by monitoring his transformation at the onset of puberty, has made it beyond the wall, but comes a cropper at Craster’s Keep, bringing about another near miss as Jon Snow arrives on the scene to sort out the Night’s Watch mutineers filling their boots with Craster’s ale, food and wives.  I’ll admit to struggling to work out what Locke is doing on this mission, having seemingly taken the black.  I wondered if he was being punished for chopping off Jaime’s good hand, but no, he is on another Bolton baddie posting, tracking down Brandon Stark but meeting a well-deserved bloody end in the process.

But this series belongs to Jon Snow.  Mostly.  Sure, we have more of Ramsay torturing and mutilating Theon, to such an extent he refuses Yara’s rescue attempt, Brienne ends up in an odd couple with Podrick, and Arya and The Hound prove it’s not so easy to get along when you both want to kill each other.  But Jon just does everything right, no matter the cost.  Having betrayed his new Wildling pals, ending up both scratched in the face by an eagle and shot with arrows by crazy ex-girlfriend Ygritte, he must face discipline back at Castle Black.  Maester Aemon, ever the voice of reason, manages to mitigate his fate, but Snow’s enemies are clearly biding their time, despite him outperforming them in every element of night-watching.  This crescendos into our most ambitious episode to date: The Watchers On The Wall.  Yes, it’s another battle, but we’re allowed to see a lot more of the action, as there are a lot more actors in the budget.  Even giants.  Surrounded on both sides of the Wall, the Night’s Watch must survive the, er, night in what turns out later to be a giant waste of time (and a timely waste of giants).  The Wildlings aren’t the enemy; they turn out to be the refugees.  Sadly, we don’t realise this till Ygritte, Pyp and Grenn are killed.  Nevertheless, it presents a great chance to Stannis to do something right for once, but we’ll save that for next week…

Best newcomer

We finally meet the Three-Eyed Raven.  In this series, though, he is no great shakes, lounging inert in a musty room as you would expect any OAP to on a visit to the old folks’ home.  But it’s what he represents that’s so significant.  This is why Bran has journeyed so far.  Or should I say, why Bran has made Hodor carry him so far, while Meera sorts the food and protects them and Jojen trains him in clairvoyance before getting stabbed in the heart repeatedly by an animated skeleton.  Team Bran’s narrow survival of the dead army awaiting them at their final destination goes to show that season four’s epic drama does not run out at episode nine.  What is more, we are at last treated to seeing a Child Of The Forest…

Most valuable character

Olenna Tyrell takes all the best lines and steals every scene.  But she more than rises to the challenge of protecting granddaughter Margaery while fuelling and abetting her ambition.  Her lack of remorse for poisoning Joffrey before he ever gets the chance to be her grandson-in-law is truly delicious.

Best death

The Moon Door has always freaked me out, thanks to my terrible fear of heights.  I always worry I will go momentarily mad and jump off tall buildings, so I can never go near the edge of things.  In a climactic tussle, envious Lysa Arryn accuses Sansa of stealing away her new husband and we are on the edge of our seats at the fear of losing our ginger heroine over the edge of the Moon Door.  Demonstrating cold-hearted calculation, Baelish embraces his insecure lover to reassure her, before shoving her and sending her tumbling to her death screaming like a mad woman.  As if we didn’t already know: never trust Petyr!

Jaw-dropper moment

Tyrion’s trial by combat lives on in infamy.  The Mountain looks all but defeated, much to the displeasure of Tywin and Cersei, but he somehow manages to crush Prince Oberyn’s skull with his bare hands.  All our retinas end up with the image of the poor Dornishman’s squashed head burned into them, proving that nobody can take on the Lannisters and win.

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.

Game Of Thrones (Season Two)

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS

Still reeling from the execution of beloved Ned Stark, nothing delayed me in adding the second sequence of Game Of Thrones to my old Lovefilm list.  As one of the show’s only fans in those distant days, I had little competition for the DVD discs which soon appeared in the post for immediate viewing.  That said, the picture quality of DVDs is now tantamount to watching content through a butter-smeared cataract, so I’m surprised I was able to make out anything.  Now no longer shameful of its fantasy origins, with no apologies necessary for things like zombies and dragons, the second series offers an emboldened portrayal of Westeros, enriched by all the layers of storytelling its previous instalments had laid down.  I would quantify the action as aplenty, yet the dialogue scenes still sparkle with political tussling, knowing wit and rich imagery.  Some battles are only alluded to, due to their production cost (such as a Robb Stark ambush on the Lannisters) but this clearly allowed them to save enough budget to enact a naval battle in the series’ penultimate instalment, Blackwater.  So it’s swings and roundabouts, slash, creative editing and wildfire.

But I’m not cussing the production for being efficient, not least because all our scenes north of the Wall seem to be filmed in real snow.  No film or TV show ever has nailed realistic-looking fake snow, so the Night’s Watch in their almost entirety are shipped off to some godforsaken winter wonderland, not for a skiing break but to traipse through snowdrifts in their big black cloaks whilst in pursuit of Mance Rayder.  It’s a visual joy worth every penny and for which I am happy to sacrifice any other battles in this series.  And like all our theatres of action in this season, things get dark.  While those who have taken the black come face to face with the awful Craster and an army of the undead (and nobody can decide which one is worse) grim and ghoulish characters dominate scenes throughout each storyline.  From the blue-stained mouth of Pyat Pree in Qarth to basically anyone in the Iron Islands (though Yara Greyjoy turns out to be a babe), the baddies outnumber the goodies.  Even solid Lannister-alternative Stannis is joyless and potentially a bit evil, while darling Joffrey plumbs new depths of depravity yet still channels American daytime soap-operatic expressions to great effect.  Hating him more than anything unites us on the side of Sansa in the coming battles.

And indeed, that is the main thrust of this second series – the worsening of the war.  The Tyrells switch sides, Dorne is brought to heal, massacres run in the Riverlands and wildlings prepare for invasion.  As a result, the violence multiplies and grows more extreme, and it’s made clear it’s the smallfolk who suffer at the hands of the powerful in their petty squabbles.  Nowhere is this easier to see than at the doomed holdfast of Harrenhal.  I remember finding the tension here unbearable on my first viewing.  When the daily selection of torture victims threatens to end Gendry’s journey through a hot rat to the stomach (really) I almost lost my mind.  Furthermore, Tywin Lannister’s selection of Arya Stark as his cupbearer leads to an oblivious truce so paper-thin that you’re screaming at the TV each time the youngest daughter of Ned nearly opens up Tywin’s neck with her mutton knife.

Nevertheless, there is also greater confidence with LOLs, as humour creeps through even against the bleakest backdrops.  Ygritte’s goading of Jon Snow (for knowing nothing) draws a wry smile in the Arctic tundra, while some of Samwell Tarly’s comedic potential is slowly revealed.  There’s even space for dark humour, with the slightly slapstick approach to Jaqen H’ghar’s assassinations on behalf of new bestie, Arya.  Indeed, offsetting this lighter touch is a heck tonne of foreshadowing as well.  Reviewing these earlier series with the benefit of having seen everything, certain lines make more sense, certain expressions are more significant and certain background observations feel strangely pivotal.  But the expansion of the Game Of Thrones universe satiates our yearning for more of what we love.  Everything is spiralling out of control and starting to go very wrong (especially for the Starks) so the only response is a desperate need to return for more series to find out what happens next and to answer the ever more unanswerable question about how this can ever be resolved.

Best newcomer

Podrick Payne is who I’m going to single out of the many new faces to grace Westeros.  While he at first simply makes up the numbers in his initial scenes, he later becomes a source of great humour.  But it is his prowess in the Battle of Blackwater that marks him a true hero, most particularly as he saves Tyrion Lannister from his sister’s sketchy third-party attempt on his life, ensuring one of our most beloved characters makes it through to the end.  We also learn in season three about his massive willy, so it’s important that this too is acknowledged.

Most valuable character

I would like to make a big fuss here of Osha, as her achievements are wrongfully unsung.  While she enters the fray as a sinister Wildling, her loyalty to House Stark soon grows strong.  Determined to save Bran and Rickon from Iron Islander clutches, she takes one for the team by seducing Theon Greyjoy and offing a number of his guards.  With Bran’s survival pivotal to so many of the subsequent series (with many a great character meeting a grisly end while he just daydreams sitting down) it’s thanks to Osha that he survives this moment and lives on to warg another day.

Best death

Picking up where the first season left off, this sophomore series doesn’t hold back with the dispatching, so there was a wealth of offing to choose from.  I’ve gone with the dual ends of Xaro Xhoan Daxos and Doreah in Daxos’s own vault deep in Qarth.  Sealed in while still alive by Daenerys as punishment for betraying her and stealing her dragons, this first glimpse into her vengeful spirit is not only terrifying in and of itself, but being locked in a dark room until you die feels like a dreadful way to go, and the whimpers of Doreah as her fate is sealed (geddit?) still haunt me to this day.

Jaw-dropper moment

Meeting Melisandre is traumatic for all of us, not least because she talks only in the mantras of her Lord of Light religion, constantly gets her boobs out and pulls some wonderfully patronising facial expressions.  She likes setting fire to things (and people).  But, as she ascends in the camp of Stannis Baratheon’s claim to the Iron Throne, she makes sure to do away with any doubters by using the dark magic for which we love her.  While I could mention the smoke baby that ends Renly’s campaign after emerging from twixt her legs, it’s the poison goblet switcharoo she does with Maester Cressen which is both believable and terrifying enough to make it clear that this is a woman who can’t be trifled with (and is dark and full of terrors).