Directed by: Brian Kirk
Distributed by: HBO
Written by Anna Harrison
Overview
In these retrospectives, I will be looking back on “Game of Thrones” through my viewpoint as a fanatical fan of George R. R. Martin’s original book series, “A Song of Ice and Fire.” Mostly, I suspect this will be an exercise in venting my frustration about the adaptation of the books and pointing out where things went wrong in my mind—and I have a lot to work out.
For ease of reference, the show “Game of Thrones” can be abbreviated as “GOT” or “Thrones,” and the books in “A Song of Ice and Fire” can be abbreviated as “ASOIAF.”
The books in the series are “A Game of Thrones,” “A Clash of Kings,” “A Storm of Swords,” “A Feast for Crows,” “A Dance With Dragons,” and the as-yet unpublished “The Winds of Winter” and “A Dream of Spring.” These can be abbreviated as “AGOT,” “ACOK,” “ASOS,” “AFFC,” “ADWD,” “TWOW,” and “ADOS.”
Chapters within the book will be referred to by their point-of-view character and a Roman numeral indicating what chapter within the POV it is (ex., Catelyn I, Jaime II, Arya III, and so on), as Martin does not number his chapters nor name them besides indicating whose POV we are about to enter.
70/100
Season One, Episode Three: “Lord Snow”
“Winter Is Coming” and “Kingsroad,” as the first two episodes of “Game of Thrones,” had perhaps the most unenviable job in this first season: they had to convince us to stick around. “Lord Snow” does not have quite the same pressure—by this point, we know the characters and stakes, but it’s nevertheless a relief to learn that, even when not much happens, this show is still pretty decent.
Saying that “not much happened,” of course, is somewhat of an understatement; this is still an exposition-heavy episode, particularly for those who arrived at King’s Landing, and particularly for Ned (Sean Bean), our salt-of-the-earth protagonist who now finds himself thrust into the middle of court machinations the likes of which he’s never seen. Immediately upon arrival, Ned is summoned to the Small Council without even time to change clothes; forced to leave the squabbling Arya (Maisie Williams) and Sansa (Sophie Turner) to their own devices, Ned makes his way through the throne room, where he happens upon Jaime Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) lounging near the Iron Throne. They exchange barbs, and for the first time we get confirmation that Jaime, despite being a member of his Kingsguard, was the one who killed the Mad King Aerys Targaryen and paved the way for the reign of Robert Baratheon (Mark Addy).
The scene, while it doesn’t exist in the books, takes great pains to echo the meeting between Ned and Jaime from the last time Ned was in King’s Landing, just after Jaime had killed King Aerys. Ned describes it thusly:
“I never said a word. I looked at him seated there on the throne, and I waited. At last Jaime laughed and got up. He took off his helm, and he said to me, ‘Have no fear, Stark. I was only keeping it warm for our friend Robert. It’s not a very comfortable seat, I’m afraid.’” (Eddard II, “AGOT”)
Once again, Ned has stumbled upon Jaime in the throne room behaving in a nonchalant manner incongruous with the machinations happening outside; once again, Ned judges Jaime for his apparent arrogance—something that will prick Jaime time and time again until he reveals it all to Brienne of Tarth (Gwendoline Christie) in Harrenhal’s bath house two seasons from now. But it’s a clever mirroring in the show and establishes Jaime as a conniving villain, which will make his growth in season three all the more satisfying as we reveal the layers underneath that acerbic exterior. For now, though, he just comes across as a real asshole, especially when he begins to talk about Ned’s father, Rickard, and his brother, Brandon.
More impressively (and perhaps more frustratingly knowing what will happen in the future), the scene shows a perfect understanding of Jaime. As Ned bitterly laments that Jaime “just stood there and watched” as the Mad King killed Rickard and Brandon, the cynic in Jaime comes out in his retort:
“Five hundred men just stood there and watched. All the great knights of the Seven Kingdoms, you think anyone said a word, lifted a finger? No, Lord Stark. Five hundred men and this room was silent as a crypt. Except for the screams, of course, and the Mad King laughing. And later, when I watched the Mad King die, I remembered him laughing as your father burned. It felt like justice.”
Jaime wants desperately to believe in chivalry and honor, but time and time again has been proven wrong, as when Rickard and Brandon were murdered and no one—including the revered Ser Barristan Selmy (Ian McElhinney) of the Kingsguard, introduced in this episode—did anything to stop it. Was it honorable to obey the King’s word and watch? Or was it more honorable to kill him, as Jaime eventually did? Either way, he gets punished for it, and so retreats into himself, putting on a hardened exterior so the judgement of Ned and others like him doesn’t hurt so much. Martin loves to wrestle with these thorny questions of honor and chivalry, often upending them as he does so, and nowhere is that more apparent than with Jaime, which is why he will contrast so well with Brienne, who is everything he once wanted to be but convinced himself he couldn’t.
This throne room standoff between Jaime and Ned isn’t the only impressive non-book addition to the episode. “Lord Snow” is the first episode that Benioff and Weiss truly begin to explore what going “off-script” from Martin’s work might look like—admittedly in small doses and with Martin himself more heavily involved in the show than he will be in the future—and, for now, it lands. I discussed the limits of Martin’s point of view chapter structure in “Kingsroad,” and here again Benioff and Weiss use that to their advantage rather than treating it as a hindrance.
As Ned is a POV character throughout “A Game of Thrones,” his throne room standoff with Jaime could have feasibly occurred in the source material. However, the other two show-exclusive scenes in this episode feature characters that either never become POVs or will not do so until the third, fourth, or fifth books. The first of these is between Cersei (Lena Headey), whose perspective we do not see until “A Feast For Crows,” and Joffrey (Jack Gleeson), giving us a glimpse into why Joffrey became… well, Joffrey. It’s quick, but it lets us see a glimpse of Cersei’s political mind and her shortcomings as a mother, and even does the teensiest bit of humanizing for Joffrey. When you have actors like Gleeson and—especially—Headey in your cast, you damn well better make the most of them.
The third wholly original scene features the other Lannister twin (who only becomes a POV in book three), Barristan (a brief POV in book five), and King Robert (never a POV). Also, Lancel Lannister (Eugene Simon) is there, but he’s irrelevant right now. This scene is what made early “Game of Thrones” sing, before everything became bogged down by shock for shock’s sake: just people in a room, talking. In this case, it’s three battle-hardened veterans (and Lancel) discussing their first kills, and each gives unique insight into the speaker.
Barristan, the epitome of a Kingsguard—and one of the five hundred men who just stood and watched, no matter how honorably he presents himself—dealt a swift death to a nameless Tyroshi. He explains this matter-of-factly; there is no glory for him. We barely know Barristan, but already we sense the kind of man he is: there are no perfect knights in “Thrones” (save the characters who are not actual knights, like Brienne of Tarth), but Barristan comes close. (Of course, that is complicated by his complicity in Aerys’s reign of terror.)
Robert, on the other hand, relishes the retelling. “Gods, I was strong then,” he laments as he recounts the death of some Tarly (remember that name for next episode) boy. For Robert, it was glorious, and it was terrible: “They never tell you how they all shit themselves. They don’t put that part in the songs.” Addy’s performance here is remarkable as he layers Robert’s words with bitterness, regret, and envy all at once; you can understand just how terribly alive Robert was then, and just how dead he is now atop the throne.
Then, of course, there is Jaime. Robert doesn’t even call him by his name, just “Kingslayer.” His first kill was an outlaw in the Kingswood Brotherhood at sixteen, but Robert only cares about the slaying that gave Jaime his infamous moniker. What had Aerys Targaryen said on his deathbed? “The same thing he’d been saying for hours: burn them all,” Jaime says, almost flippantly. He plays into his Kingslayer persona, as Robert wants, but his answer neatly severs the budding geniality in the room. This is often Jaime’s modus operandi: he believes that everyone judges him for his kingslaying, does nothing to reverse their opinions, and then gets hurt at their judgement.
So in less than five minutes, we have neatly established Barristan’s character, added depth to Robert and Jaime, and featured some damn good writing to boot. All three have been stunted by war, and yet all three cannot imagine their lives without it. In later seasons, scenes like this will be cut for time, trimmed off as fat when they should have been the foundation.
Otherwise, “Lord Snow” sticks closely to Martin’s original work, though no other scenes soar as high as that of Robert, Jaime, and Barristan’s heart-to-heart. Ned hires a Braavosi swordsman, Syrio Forel (Miltos Yerolemou), to teach Arya swordplay—specifically water dancing, for those interested. (Braavos will remain a mystical enigma until Arya winds up there in later seasons at the House of Black and White, but is a bit of a disappointment in the show. At least it’s not as bad as the Dorne plots.) Daenerys (Emilia Clarke) begins to understand the horrors of slavery, the madness of her brother Viserys (Harry Lloyd), and how to be “not a queen, a khaleesi.” She also learns she is pregnant. Bran (Isaac Hempstead-Wright) gets told scary stories in the dark, and there is more twincest from Jaime and Cersei.
More importantly, we are introduced to several key players both at King’s Landing and at the Wall. As Ned gets thrust into the dirty politicking of the Small Council, he meets four new characters: Renly Baratheon (Gethin Anthony), King Robert’s youngest brother; Petyr Baelish (Aidan Gillen), also known as Littlefinger, who serves as Master of Coin; Varys the eunuch (Conleth Hill), Master of Whispers; and Grand Maester Pycelle (Julian Glover), whose job is to be a Lannister toady at all times.
The most important of these in this episode is Littlefinger, who shelters Catelyn Stark (Michelle Fairley) when she discreetly makes her way to King’s Landing. He harbors unrequited love—more a desire to possess, really—for Cat, and as such takes every opportunity to needle Ned that he can. Still, he lets the two meet clandestinely (in his brothel, surrounded by topless women making out with each other for… uh… practice, yeah, that’s it, not just to show Hot Lesbian Sex), which is very sweet! Except that he immediately starts lying his ass off, as he is wont to do, even though Cat came to him for help.
When she brings him the dagger that nearly took Bran’s life, Littlefinger claims that the dagger belongs to Tyrion Lannister (Peter Dinklage), who allegedly won it off of him after a bet at a tourney. On rewatch—or reread—we know this to be a lie meant to stir up animosity between the Starks and the Lannisters, as the knife actually passed to King Robert at this tourney, and eventually into the hands of Joffrey, who sent the catspaw to kill Bran. But for the first-time watcher, this throws a wrench into things, as it casts our quickly-grown affection for Tyrion into doubt. What Cat does with this information will spark another discussion, but not now.
Meanwhile, what is our scapegoat up to? He’s certainly having a better time at the Wall than our titular Lord Snow (Kit Harington) is. Jon, having been raised in a castle with an experienced master-at-arms, finds himself heads-and-shoulders above the rest of the motley Night’s Watch recruits, including two named Pyp (Josef Atlin) and Grenn (Mark Stanley). But does he get praised for his prowess with a sword? No, he gets resentful looks from his Night’s Watch brothers and a verbal lashing from the Watch’s master-at-arms, Ser Alliser Thorne (Owen Teale), who dubs Jon “Lord Snow” to mock his bastard heritage.
Luckily, Tyrion is here to explain to Jon what class differences are and point out that Jon’s holier-than-thou attitude is winning him few favors with the poor peasants and thieves who number his Night’s Watch brothers. As his uncle Benjen (Joseph Mawle) later points out to Jon, the Wall is one of the few places in Westeros where any man can rise to the top, as they let anyone into their ranks, noble or not. Just, uh, don’t look too closely at the lineages of the men who are actually at the top, like Benjen Stark himself or Lord Commander Jeor Mormont (James Cosmo), who never had to steal to eat, and certainly not Maester Aemon (Peter Vaughan), whose last name remains a secret for now. While these other scenes don’t deviate too far from the books, they display solid craftsmanship and continue the upward trend of this season.
“Lord Snow” lets us take our time, smell the roses, and is all the better for it. With each episode, we grow closer to the characters and the world becomes more understandable; luckily, Benioff and Weiss take their time in this first season, and the show is all the richer for it. “Lord Snow” advances every plot and yet leaves ample time to breathe: after Ned accosts Littlefinger for bringing him to a brothel, we can linger on Littlefinger’s bemused expression for a long time; up at Castle Black, Jon wanders the scenery to get from place to place rather than cutting scenes so he magically appears where he needs to be; Ned freezes from post-traumatic stress disorder as he hears Arya learning to fight, the clanging of swords echoing back in time to different battlefields. We see exactly how each character gets from Point A to Point B, not just their destinations, and this only adds to the world—in later seasons, Benioff and Weiss seem to believe that these little moments detract from the amount of plot they must get through.
Stray Observations:
- Famous (sort of) last words from Benjen Stark: “We’ll speak when I return.” Poor Jon.
- The Kingswood Brotherhood only gets brought up in Jaime’s chapters in “ASOS,” including in one of my favorite quotes from Jaime (and there are many): “And me, that boy I was… when did he die, I wonder? When I donned the white cloak? When I opened Aerys’s throat? That boy had wanted to be Ser Arthur Dayne, but someplace along the way he had become the Smiling Knight instead” (Jaime VIII, “ASOS”). The Brotherhood were led by Simon Toyne, who gets a mention here, and who is distantly related to Myles Toyne, whom we briefly learn about in Jon Connington’s “ADWD” chapters. (Who is Jon Connington, show watchers may ask? Well, dear readers, we will discuss that later. In depth.)
- Cat and Ned’s meeting at the brothel is the last time the two will see each other before Ned gets his head chopped off in a few episodes. It’s a testament to the writing, Michelle Fairley, and Sean Bean that this relationship feels lived-in and loving despite the minimal screentime.
- “Snow” is the default last name given to a bastard born in the north. For the Crownlands, it’s Waters; for the Stormlands, Storm (creative); for the Riverlands, Rivers (sensing a pattern here?); for the Westerlands, Hill; for the Vale, Stone; for the Reach, Flowers; for the Iron Islands, Pyke; and for Dorne, Sand.
- Ser Duncan the Tall gets mentioned by Old Nan (Margaret John) in one of her tales to Bran. Dunk the Lunk is the protagonist of Martin’s “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” novellas and soon to appear onscreen in HBO’s show of the same name. There’s also a theory that Dunk got with Old Nan when she was Young Nan, making him the ancestor of Hodor (Kristian Nairn). This theory extends to any tall and broad character in “ASOIAF,” including Grenn and the Clegane family; that said, the only confirmed relation he has is to Brienne of Tarth, as confirmed by Martin himself.
- Dany’s realization that she is pregnant from the books happens like this: “‘Khaleesi, you are with child.’ / ‘I know,’ Dany told her. It was her fourteenth name day” (Daenerys III, “AGOT”). Yes, it is meant to be horrifying.
Episode Ranking:
- “The Kingsroad”
- “Lord Snow”
- “Winter Is Coming”
“Game of Thrones” Season One Trailer
You can follow more of Anna’s work on Letterboxd, Twitter, or Instagram, or her website.
