Directed by: Owen Harris, Sarah Adina Smith
Distributed by: HBO Max
Written by Anna Harrison
90/100
Adaptations of George R. R. Martin’s work have been, historically, uneven. “Game of Thrones” works for at least four seasons as a television series, but fundamentally fails to understand the thematic thrust of Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” series. “House of the Dragon,” on the other hand, understands the ethos of Martin’s work much better than “Thrones” ever did, and yet it often struggles as an actual narrative. Understandably, this meant that I had a host of worries about Ira Parker’s “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.” Among them: the first season was based on a very short novella that did not have enough meat on its bones to fill up six half-hour episodes; the show would shoehorn in the Prince That Was Promised prophecy somehow, despite “Thrones” having a non-Targaryen deal with the white walker problem; Parker was going to add in violence for awesome’s sake; the scope would grow much larger than the tales of Dunk and Egg and the show would simply be another series about the struggles for the Iron Throne.
Imagine the relief I felt, then, when “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” not only eschewed those pitfalls, but turned out to be the only “Thrones” show that manages to nail the tone of its source material while standing on its own two legs as, simply, a damn fine season of television.
There is very little of “Thrones” or “House of the Dragon” in the DNA of “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.” We follow no great houses or nobles; instead, we are introduced to wandering hedge knight (“knight”) Dunk, played with shambling gentleness by former rugby player Peter Claffey, who is burying Ser Arlan of Pennytree (Danny Webb). Through a very brief montage of flashbacks, we learn that Dunk served as Ser Arlan’s squire for many a year, faithfully tending to their horses—Chestnut, Sweetfoot, and Thunder—and following the old man through the hedges of Westeros. With Arlan dead, Dunk finds himself at a loss. Options for non-nobility in Westeros are limited, but Dunk knows of a tourney at Ashford Meadow where he could make a name for himself in the jousting lists.
When Dunk arrives at Ashford, however, it’s clear that he’s over his head, and Ser Arlan did not prepare him for any of this. He has no arms of his own, and to enlist in this tourney, another knight must vouch for him, yet the nobility turn up their noses at Dunk and claim never to have known a Ser Arlan of Pennytree. Still, Dunk quickly finds himself at least one ally in the form of a bald boy who calls himself Egg (Dexter Sol Ansell).
The series lives and dies by the relationship between Dunk and Egg. Mess that up, and nothing else will matter—luckily, Claffey and Ansell are more than up to the task. Claffey’s wide-eyed innocence makes for a wonderful contrast with Ansell’s wise-beyond-his-years cheek and sorrow; Dunk is naively bullheaded in his belief in goodness, and Egg has seen both too much and too little of the world. Within just six episodes, Claffey and Ansell prove they have a right to join the “Thrones” casting hall of fame alongside the likes of Peter Dinklage and Lena Headey.
Dunk and Egg’s easy relationship is such that, even when the show adds non-book scenes to pad the runtime, like a game of tug-of-war, it’s a treat rather than a chore. Even with its short runtime, the series has breathing room; Dunk teaches Egg how to sew. Egg spends one morning teaching Thunder (the warhorse) how to charge properly.
Of course, at a certain point, one must introduce stakes. Enter the Targaryens, whose dragons have all died by now and who are decidedly less popular with both the smallfolk and the nobility. Some are good and some are bad, and Dunk soon finds himself inextricably linked to the family, especially Prince Baelor (Bertie Carvel), Prince Maekar (Sam Spruell), and Prince Aerion (Finn Bennett). These Targaryens are not all uniformly silvery-haired nor do any of them have hair longer than their shoulder blades, thank goodness; in a very small win for book readers, we finally have dark-haired Targaryens onscreen in Baelor and his son Valarr (Oscar Morgan).
In a much bigger win for book readers (at least for me), we finally, finally have some goddamn color and camp for the noble houses of Westeros. Fully white armor for the Kingsguard, not the golden crap on “Thrones” or gray pieces on “House of the Dragon.” The lightning sigil of House Dondarrion and the sun of House Ashford on full display. Lyonel Baratheon (Daniel Ings, a highlight) with actual, sizable horns on his helmet. The jouster from House Tully eats a live trout! “Thrones” often stripped its source material of color and anything that might remind its viewers of the show’s fantasy roots in an effort to maintain so-called realism and convey that this is a Serious Television Show, and yet in doing so, often created bland visuals (especially in the latter seasons) and robbed much of what makes Martin’s work fun. Plus, the great gulf in station between peasants like Dunk and the so-brightly-clad-it-makes-your-eyes-burn Humfrey Beesbury (Danny Collins) becomes that much greater when not everyone is dressed in the same varying shades of brownish or black.
Gone, too, are the fights and battles created only to look cool and glorify violence. The jousts and eventual Trial of Seven in “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” are brutal affairs. They are, as fellow HBO character Logan Roy might say, “A fight for a knife in the mud.” Well shot, yes—showrunner Ira Parker remembered the importance of lighting, which many others have forgotten, and the extended sequence shown through the slit in Dunk’s helm is marvelous—but never glorious or glamorous. Instead, they are brutal, pointless, wasteful. No matter how kind Prince Baelor may be and no matter how warm Carvel’s expression can be, the Targaryens will trample on the nobles and the nobles will trample on the smallfolk regardless of whether they are good people or not, because that is the system that has been set up. Even the Targaryens self-immolate. “No doubt we’ll make a man of him too,” drunken Prince Daeron (Henry Ashton, doing a lot with very little screentime) says of the youngest Targaryen prince. “Game of Thrones” may have burned the Iron Throne, but it was never that concerned with the cannibalizing nature of the Westerosi nobility despite Martin’s emphasis on it in “A Song of Ice and Fire.” Things fall apart, the center cannot hold. “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” understands that.
It understands, too, that the show would not be “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” if it got too bogged down in Targaryen melodrama. Dunk very purposely denies the chance to entangle himself further. He may rub up against the nobility, but the scale of Dunk and Egg’s stories are purposely small, giving us a new perspective on life in Westeros and preventing the kind of grandiose bloat that plagued “Thrones” and has begun to dog “House of the Dragon.” I could quibble, if I wanted to: there are perhaps three to many poop or fart jokes, Steely Pate (Yousef Kerkour) doesn’t say the iconic “a knight who remembered his vows” line, Beesbury, Valarr, Robyn Rhysling (Williams Houston), and Humfrey Hardyng (Ross Anderson) are victims of the shorter episodes and could have used more screentime. But, frankly, it’s hard to care all that much when the Fossoways are dripped out in apple-themed armor. Apple-themed armor, guys. How could I do anything but love this show?
“A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” Trailer
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