Game of Thrones (TV)
**This review is dark and full of spoilers for the eight seasons of “Game of Thrones.” Proceed with caution.**
Even as someone who loves “Game of Thrones,” it’s easy to point at things that the series relies too much on, or doesn’t do as well as you would prefer. As the series diverged from the currently published books of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series, it became less focused from episode-to-episode, and the narrative got rushed, even as the events took on further importance in getting to the endgame. It has relied too much on nudity and rape in its storytelling, resulting in an unhealthy misogyny, at times. (Though you have to love the term that it inspired, “sexposition,” as people took the story forward during many of those scenes.) And let’s be clear, while the series more than merits viewing regardless of when you pick it up, it’s one that really needs to be seen from episode one if it’s to be not only taken in fully, but understood. When you give yourself over to it, however, holy God is it riveting television.
I don’t know that I will ever go to read Martin’s books that this show has adapted, and not just because the last two have not been published yet. This is a dense, complicated world, and it’s not easy to dive into. I felt that way when I first tried to watch it in 2012, but as the series became more familiar to me in those around me who watched it, I eventually dug right into it, and now, it’s one of my favorite television shows of all-time. In terms of dramatic TV, it’s second to “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” on my list, and it makes sense that they are 1 and 2. Both deal with the supernatural and fantasy in a way that comments on reality, even when it gets unreal in how the natural order of things work. Both shows see heroes and villains switch between good and evil in ways that are compelling and natural to the story being told. (The “Buffy” spin-off, “Angel,” is with these shows, as well, though not quite as good.) Both are uncompromised visions of the creative individuals behind them. And both have strong, exceptional female characters at or near the center of them. That’s definitely become something I’ve appreciated in pop culture in the past two decades since I first watched “Buffy.”
One does not simply condense eight seasons, and 73 episodes, of narrative into an easy-to-digest story synopsis, so the best way to discuss this would be to attack “Game of Thrones” from the big mechanics of the story it’s telling. The title refers to the political maneuvering the main characters in this fictional world of Westeros make in an attempt to control the Iron Throne, and rule the Seven Kingdoms. We come to know the history of how we got Robert Baratheon on the Throne before the start of the series, and how, by the end of the first season, his “son,” Joffrey Baratheon, was on the Throne, but his legitimacy was called into question in as much as his parentage was in question; his best friend, Ned Stark (the warden of the North at Winterfell), was executed for treason; Ned’s son, Robb Stark, came to be warring with Joffrey, and the Lannister family, his family on his mother, Cersei’s, side; and the Seven Kingdoms devolved into a massive political clusterfuck that barely accounts for Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen, the only remaining heirs to the Targaryen household, which Robert removed from the Throne. Fans of the show know there is so much more to the story, but again, one does not simply condense eight seasons into a plot synopsis.
George R.R. Martin’s big idea in his Westerosian world is to create a fantasy that draws upon past real-world rulers and political turmoil of the past to create a reflection of the present, and, for the first five seasons, fans were relatively excited by the results creators and showrunners David Benioff and D.B. Weiss came up with on the screen. A huge part of that came from the fact that they had Martin’s books as a blueprint, and he was involved in the writing process of the show, often writing one TV script a season. When season six came up, it was the moment where the show passed the published books (and, as of this writing, the last two books have still not be released), and while Martin gave them the big picture of how the written story was going to end, it was ultimately their job to get the show there. The results became mixed, when they insisted that the last two seasons be abridged to 7 and 6 episodes, respectively, rather than the 10 each of the first six seasons. The events of the last two seasons feel rushed even for fans of where the story was headed, and the rushed nature made less time for nuance and depth of story as we hit major points like the arrival of Daenerys to Westeros; her first meetings with Jon Snow, Ned Stark’s bastard, who has been elevated to King of the North at Winterfell; the first battles her and her dragons have with Cersei Lannister, who now sits on the Iron Throne; and the creeping terrors of the White Walkers as they find a way to destroy the Great Wall, which had protected man from the supernatural zombies of Martin’s story; and the battles and political machinations that will bring us to The Last War, deciding the realm’s fate, and who will find themselves on The Iron Throne. I still enjoyed the Hell out of the show, as a whole, but some of the choices the characters made feel sudden without as much build-up as we would have gotten in earlier seasons. That doesn’t mean they feel out of character, as some people have accused the show of being, but it still has made it irritating.
I just completed my first, full rewatch of the series after it ended in 2019, and one of the things that remains sharply clear is how character is what matters in this series. My wife and I watched all 73 episodes in the matter of a few weeks, and what that helps illuminate is how the way Benioff and Weiss plotted the series was most effective, and why- especially in its last 13 episodes (which boil down to Season 7, Part 1 and Season 7, Part 2 more than full seasons which stand separately)- it faltered sometimes. Season 6 still adheres to much of the familiar arc of the previous seasons, even if it isn’t from the written word of Martin, so we still get major arcs that collide to a major climax in Episode 9 (where, in previous seasons, Ned Stark was beheaded, the Battle of Blackwater occurred, the Red Wedding happened, the Wildlings attacked the Wall, and the fighting pits of Mereen are re-opened) before the final episode resets the table for the next season to come. Because of the 1-2 punch of “Battle of the Bastards,” where the Starks retake Winterfell from the Boltons, and “The Winds of Winter,” where Cersei takes control of her fate at King’s Landing, I think that sixth season is the strongest one outside of the first season; even if it doesn’t have a book to follow closely, each episode feels like it’s building to something, and the way everything plays out gets you pumped to see what happens next.
The closer the series stays with the Starks (for the most part), the better it is. That includes a bastard like Jon Snow. Bran’s journey to become the Three-Eyed Raven moves a bit slowly, and it’s honestly a relief not to have him to follow in season 5, and Robb’s leadership of the Northern army grows tired, especially once he betrays his oath to marry one of Walden Fray’s daughters, and seals his fate, and the Boltons solidify their position at Winterfell; that said, they are both crucial to the places this series goes. Sansa’s journey back to Winterfell after her abusive relationship with Joffrey is hard to watch, but by the time her and Theon Greyjoy jump off the wall at Winterfell to get away from the even worse Ramsay Bolton, we’re fully invested in her growth into the strong and shrewd Lady of Winterfell she will become by the end of the series. Arya’s journey is easily the most engaging. Her journey after leaving King’s Landing after seeing her father beheaded is far more compelling, and filled with far more twists and turns. Seeing her return to Westeros after her time in Braavos, turning her into the ruthless assassin the realm needs when it comes to defeating the Night King, is one of the most satisfying turns in an arc in the series. I’d have more to say about Rickon, but his arc is like his decision-making at the Battle of the Bastards- a straight line to death rather than swerving to survive.
Save for Tyrion, I’ll admit that the Lannisters get less interesting to rewatch. Sure, it’s the actions of Cersei and Jamie that set the whole Game of Thrones in order, but while Lena Headey and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau are talented performers, we don’t really feel any greater depth from the characters as we experience the show again. Tyrion, however, is a different matter, and yes, a lot of that is because Peter Dinklage is the show’s ace in the hole, but it’s also because Tyrion’s character as an individual solidifies upon rewatch. The early scenes he has with Jon Snow (Kit Harington) reveal more of him than we realize the first time we watch the show; seeing how he transforms as the series goes on, until they are in the ashes of what Daenerys has done at King’s Landing together. He deserves his fate, spending his life making up for the mistakes he’s made.
The final thirteen episodes of the series rush so many of the show’s biggest moments, so it’s no wonder that people feel like both Daenarys’s turn towards the Mad Queen at the end feels forced, and the revelation that Jon Snow is actually Aegon Targaryen- the natural born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, whose love was misconstrued as a kidnapping, which ended the Targaryen dynasty and led to Robert Baratheon being on the Iron Throne- is of little consequence. If we ever get the final two books from Martin, I’m sure that will include further depth that will make these episodes feel even more like Cliff Notes, but upon rewatch, it’s not as though the Mad Queen is a sudden heel turn by Daenarys. We’ve seen how she operates for years- now, with the Iron Throne within her grasp, but fewer allies to aide her (and a possible threat in Jon, whom people have much more affection towards because of how humble he is), it’s only natural that she feels that all she has left to rule with is fear. And if Snow were simply a bastard Stark, how could he get close enough to her to do what he must, not because he doesn’t love her, but because he knows it’s the right thing to do? Being part Stark and part Targaryen is fundamental to who he is, and essential to how the story wraps up. This was never going to be a truly happy conclusion. After all, it’s a story where fire and ice have both caused considerable bloodshed.
“Game of Thrones” is one of the most densely-plotted narratives about politics we’ve seen in pop culture. It’s more than just about action and dragons and magic and battles- it studies the way people think about politics, and how some grow into politicians. It’s about the morality of politics, and of killing, and how it can bring out the worst from monsters, and swallow decent people. It’s about how love can blind us from responsibility, and survival can sometimes come at a prince. It’s about composer Ramin Djwadi taking no prisoners with a score that connects with thunderous themes, haunting soundscapes, and wrenching emotion. And it’s about dragons, white walkers, magic, and war. It may have ended up in a way that left people unsatisfied- not without reason- but it is ferociously entertaining even as fates are decided in final shots of the characters we have come to care about most.
