Directed by: Alan Taylor
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Game of Thrones,” “A Clash of Kings,” “A Storm of Swords,” “A Feast for Crows,” “A Dance With Dragons,” and the as-yet unpublished “The Winds of Winter” and “A Dream of Spring.”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.
80/100
If “Baelor” was an exercise in patience, “Fire and Blood” is a study in grief.
The episode picks up right where “Baelor” left off, with Ned Stark’s (Sean Bean) head held aloft for the people of King’s Landing to see. With this gesture, peace in the realm becomes an impossibility, and what might happen next becomes as mysterious to the audience as it is to the characters.
The fates of some are more immediate than others: Night’s Watch brother Yoren (Francis Magee) wastes no time in snatching Arya (Maisie Williams) away from the steps of Baelor and whisking her out of the Lannisters’ clutches The group of men and boys she joins marching towards the Wall will prove just as dangerous as King’s Landing in their own way, though at least Gendry (Joe Dempsie), the bastard of King Robert (Mark Addy), seems to brook no nonsense. Plus, we get introduced to Hot Pie (Ben Hawkey), whom Arya promptly threatens with Needle. It’s nice to see this portrayed as the actions of a traumatized child instead of some badassery by a psychotic assassin as will happen in later seasons.
Sansa (Sophie Turner), unfortunately, has no sword to protect her, only her courtesies and—maybe—Sandor Clegane (Rory McCann). Still trapped in King’s Landing, she is now the sole Stark remaining at the Red Keep and utterly at Joffrey’s (Jack Gleason) twisted mercy. Cersei’s (Lena Headey) pretend niceties have entirely melted away, and Joffrey has begun to sic the members of the Kingsguard, supposedly the noblest knights in Westeros, on Sansa, having them hit her when she displeases him.
“Fire and Blood” shows a new side of Sansa—she still armors herself in courtesy, but her inner steel soon begins to gleam. Joffrey takes her to view her father’s head, now placed upon a spike outside the Red Keep and surrounded by long drops to the ground, and forces Sansa to look upon it. Sophie Turner, all of fourteen when she was cast, is nothing short of excellent in this scene, showing Sansa’s dissociation, grief, and anger all at once. When Joffrey gloats about eventually bringing Robb’s head to Sansa, she quietly retorts, “Or maybe he’ll give me yours,” and cheers were heard throughout the land.
Sansa has been a prime target not only for Joffrey but also for vitriolic fans of the show, who hate her for the crimes of being naïve, trusting, and, worst of all, a girl (a typically feminine girl, it should be said, to distinguish her from Arya, whom the people adore). She is blamed for causing her father’s death, when, as I have pointed out (link), Robert’s fluke of a death is the only reason that Ned died when he did; otherwise, they would have been safe. Well, relatively. Many things had to go perfectly wrong for Ned’s head to tumble down the steps of Baelor, and to blame it all on a little girl who still believes in the songs and stories is nothing short of ridiculous. But, yes, I understand that she can be a bit annoying early on (not to me, though, I am a Sansa defender for life); luckily, Martin loves to pull the rug out from under readers and make them sympathize with those they disliked at first, and the show follows suit. (But, again, why would you dislike her in the first place? She’s been sympathetic at least since Ned killed Lady. Get some taste.) Thus Sansa fights back against Joffrey, and would have pushed him off the parapets had the Hound not intervened, both in the show and the book:
All it would take was a shove, she told herself. He was standing right there, right there, smirking at her with those fat wormlips. You could do it, she told herself. You could. Do it right now. It wouldn’t even matter if she went over with him. It wouldn’t matter at all.
“Here, girl.” Sandor Clegane knelt before her, between her and Joffrey. With a delicacy surprising in such a big man, he dabbed at the blood welling from her broken lip.
The moment was gone. Sansa lowered her eyes. “Thank you,” she said when she was done. She was a good girl, and always remembered her courtesies. (Sansa VI, “AGOT”)
That last line sums up much of Sansa’s character: she has been raised to behave herself as befits a well-born lady, and even as the social contract of the world around her unravels, she clings to it like a lifeline. Later on, her courtesies will take her far as she learns just how to deploy them for maximum effect. Too bad the show will strip her of all emotions as they do Arya. Oh, well! At least we have this scene.
Elsewhere, news of Ned’s fate has spread beyond King’s Landing, and it takes little time to reach Tywin (Charles Dance) and Tyrion Lannister (Peter Dinklage), who are busy licking their wounds after falling for Robb Stark’s (Richard Madden) bait-and-switch. Any chance at peace has disappeared, as Tyrion so expertly demonstrates by shattering a wine goblet and declaring, “There’s your peace. Joffrey saw to that when he decided to remove Ned Stark’s head.” Even Tywin, who is the expert at doling out unwarranted punishments to his political enemies (the Castameres, anyone?), can’t help but observe that there is only “madness and stupidity” in the land.
Since the Starks have Jaime (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), Tywin is forcibly reminded that he has another son in Tyrion, and finally gives Tyrion his due by making him Hand of the King. He also sends out Gregor Clegane (Conan Stevens, though not for long) to pillage the Riverlands, though, so you win some, you lose a lot. At least Tyrion, who has spent the season being mocked, arrested and tried for crimes he didn’t commit, and bullied by his father, finally gets his due, even if we know Tywin will snatch away even that gratification later on.
Even at the Wall, Jon Snow (Kit Harington) has heard of his father’s demise. Even after the words of wisdom that Maester Aemon (Peter Vaughan) dispensed last episode (link), he cannot stand to be at the Wall while the family that murdered Ned sits on the Iron Throne and Robb wages war. Needing to do something, he sets out on a midnight ride to return to his remaining family, abandoning the Night’s Watch and becoming a turncloak:
Tyrion Lannister had claimed that most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it, but Jon was done with denials. He was who he was; Jon Snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his life—however long that might be—he would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name. (Jon IX, “AGOT”)
Jon, baby… you’re fifteen (or eighteen—allegedly—in the show), let’s maybe take a beaRamin Djawadi,t. Bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. Except that Jon is not friendless, and it’s his friends that ride to his rescue. Sam (John Bradley), Pyp (Josef Altin), and Grenn (Mark Stanley) all follow him, surround Jon, and recite the vows of the Night’s Watch to remind him of his duty—and the fact that his friends will risk being branded as deserters in their attempt to rescue Jon. It’s a beautiful and touching moment, especially considering that Jon’s classism at the beginning of this season ensured he kept Pyp and Grenn at an arm’s distance. After living on the fringes of the Starks, he’s finally been accepted with no reservations by a family; besides, as Lord Commander Jeor Mormont (James Cosmo) reminds Jon, “When dead men and worse come hunting for us in the night, do you think it matters who sits on the Iron Throne?”
While Jon’s daring would-be escape makes for great fiction and television, the most profound impact of Ned’s death can be felt in Catelyn (Michelle Fairley) and Robb. Though Richard Madden certainly looks older than eighteen, the age that show-Robb claims to be, he seems almost a child again as Cat finds him mindlessly hacking at a tree with his sword.
“Robb!” Cat calls to him. “You’ve ruined your sword.”
Lena Headey, Peter Dinklage, Aidan Gillen, and the other backstabbing schemers may get the showiest scenes in “Thrones,” but it’s Fairley who sells this episode. She only has two scenes, and yet her line reading of “you’ve ruined your sword” is, perhaps, the best of the entire season. Cat must take command of her sadness to comfort her son, and she must focus on the little things—like the nicks in Robb’s sword—because she will drown if she thinks about Ned’s death, and Fairley, with just four words, conveys the torrent of emotions battering at Cat.
It is remarkable that the show lets each of the Starks grieve in their own way and in their own time. Later seasons will rush from death to death with no room to breathe, muting their impact; here, Ned’s death becomes all the more horrible because we see just how painful his absence feels for those who loved him. The audience loved him, too, and lingering on the Starks’ sadness and anger only reinforces our own. Cat and Robb’s intimate scene is a show-only creation, and beautiful and poignant in a way that the show will slowly cease to be.
But they cannot stay in mourning forever. Soon enough, as Cat says, “We will kill them all.” How best to go about toppling the Lannister regime? Robb suggests allying with the still-as-yet-unseen Stannis Baratheon (Stephen Dillane, introduced next episode), but his bannermen will have none of that. Led by the rowdy Greatjon Umber (Clive Mantle), the Northmen have a different idea, and want to crown Robb as King in the North.
It’s hard to convey just how rousing the scene is. Ramin Djawadi’s Stark theme music soars in the background as rows and rows of grown men hoist their swords up high to proclaim, “The King in the North!” For the first time this episode, it seems that things might look up, and that perhaps Ned’s death can spur his family on to greater heights.
And the river lords were rising too, Blackwood and Bracken and Mallister, houses who had never been ruled from Winterfell, yet Catelyn watched them rise and draw their blades, bending their knees and shouting the old words that had not been heard in the realm for more than three hundred years, since Aegon the Dragon had come to make the Seven Kingdoms one… yet now were heard again, ringing from the timbers of her father’s hall:“The King in the North!”
“The King in the North!”
“THE KING IN THE NORTH!” (Catelyn XI, “AGOT”)
The scene in the books is stirring, too, but something about Djawadi’s score lifts everything to new heights, and the shot of Robb standing alone, surrounded by a circle of kneeling men, is one of the most powerful in this season. It is such a good scene that I find it difficult to write about—what is there to say, other than “holy shit this rocks”?
But, of course, this wouldn’t be an episode of “Game of Thrones” without ill-placed sex jokes that take it down a peg or two. Grand Maester Pycelle (Julian Glover) gets a scene all to himself, which allows Glover to finally flex some real acting muscles as Pycelle’s incompetent facade fades away (there is a reason this man has lived through so many kings, after all). While not as egregious as that terrible sexposition scene with Littlefinger (Gillen) in episode 7 (link), the scene still does not trust the viewer to pay attention without a pair of breasts onscreen to ogle. In this case, those breasts belong to Ros the prostitute (Esmé Bianco), whose nudity serves… what purpose exactly? Certainly not a commentary on the class dynamic in Westeros, though Ros, as a sex worker and member of the smallfolk (and a show creation), could have been a very interesting point of view to follow. So we learn that Pycelle is not as doddering as he seems, which could have been accomplished without full-frontal female nudity. (In fairness, Pycelle’s gown is quite transparent, so I suppose that’s a little bit of equality.)
The worst offender, however, is yet another scene with Littlefinger. He and Varys (Conleth Hill) are given another chance to snipe at each other in the throne room—I complimented (link) their last sparring session, if sparingly, but here it becomes obvious that David Benioff and D. B. Weiss are out of their depth when trying to write for characters smarter than they are. It is, admittedly, a tricky thing to do, and most writers struggle with it, but surely Littlefinger and Varys would come up with wordplay more clever than jokes about Varys’s genitalia or lack thereof. “I’ve pictured a gash much like a woman’s,” Littlefinger observes for no discernible reason. “Do you lie awake at night fearing my gash?” Varys later asks. Is this really how two of the smartest men in the realm would talk, or is the show’s obsession with sex and mutilated genitals peeking through? What, exactly, is clever about this? Nothing. What does it tell us about the characters that we didn’t already know? Nothing. Is it particularly interesting or compelling? No.
Luckily, those scenes are sandwiched in between far superior ones, and the episode ends on such a high note that what happens with Pycelle, Littlefinger, and Varys quickly becomes of little importance—for it’s not only the death of Ned that our characters mourn.
Across the Narrow Sea, Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke) must face the fact that her husband, Khal Drogo (Jason Momoa), is no longer there. After enlisting Mirri Maz Duur (Mia Soteriou) to save him from an infected wound, Dany now finds herself with a stillborn (and allegedly monstrous) child and a catatonic husband, alive but unresponsive. “Only death can pay for life,” Mirri Maz Duur warned Dany last episode. But Dany deluded herself into believing that the death of a mere horse would bring Drogo back, when it was to be her unborn son.
Dany has learned much in her time with the Dothraki, and still she could not conceive of a world in which Mirri Maz Duur was not grateful to Dany for “saving” her from the khalasar as they sacked her home. “Saved me? Three of those riders had already raped me before you saved me, girl,” she spits. “Why don’t you take a look at your khal? Then you will see exactly what life is worth when all the rest is gone.” The viewers know Dany to be kind-hearted, but she has been complicit in her khalasar’s rape and murder—who can really blame Mirri Maz Duur for exacting her revenge, terrible as it may be?
Also, let’s be honest: we may have grown to love Drogo, but he spent the first several episodes continually raping Dany. I am not too torn up about his death. Unfortunately, in losing Drogo, we do lose the most interesting Dothraki character in “Thrones.” This will become more apparent as Dany gets bogged down in Meereen in later seasons and goes without Jorah (Iain Glen), but her supporting cast is by and large a weak one, especially compared to Jon, our other semi-isolated character. Drogo’s death reduces the Dothraki, already a group teetering into “problematic” territory and painted with very broad strokes (here’s a fun essay about that), to little more than set dressing. Who can name one interesting characteristic of Jhogo (renamed to Kovarro for some reason in the show and played by Steven Cole), Rakharo (Elyes Gabel), Irri (Amrita Acharya), or Jhiqui (Sarita Piotrowski)? Drogo, at the very least, was powered by Jason Momoa’s intense charisma. Without him, the Dothraki (brown) exist only to prop up Daenerys (white). Like I said, teetering into problematic territory—in both the show and the books.
Now, for much of this season, Dany has been relegated to the “Stray Observations” section of these reviews; as much as I love her, her arc exists on its own, with hardly any connection to the web of characters back in Westeros. It is also the most straightforward one this season: she goes from frightened girl to mother of dragons (this mirrors Jon, who goes from frightened boy to man of the Night’s Watch). What happens in “Fire and Blood” positions her as one of the central characters in the story who will, presumably, drive the narrative forward (until we get to Meereen, that is…).
When Dany, possessed by either the madness or clarity of grief, builds a funeral pyre for Drogo, she places her dragon eggs atop the pyre and then steps into the flames. Jorah thinks she goes to commit suicide, but Dany has grander plans in mind: “No, she wanted to shout to him. No, my good knight, do not fear for me. The first is mine. I am Daenerys Stormborn, daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons, don’t you see? Don’t you SEE?” (Daenerys X, “AGOT”).
And then, as morning comes, we see them: dragons.
Three, to be exact, all cradled by Daenerys as she rises, unburnt, from the ashes that surround her. We have seen white walkers and we have heard tell of dragons, but no wights or three-eyed crow dreams can come close to the magic of seeing or hearing them onscreen. It is Dany’s crowning moment after a season full of losses and hardships, better than Sansa standing up to Joffrey, better even than Robb’s “King in the North” moment. As George R. R. Martin put it:
The cream-and-gold dragon was suckling at her left breast, the green-and-bronze at the right. Her arms cradled them close. The black-and-scarlet beast was draped across her shoulders, its long sinuous neck coiled under her chin. When it saw Jorah, it raised its head and looked at him with eyes as red as coals.
Wordless, the knight fell to his knees. The men of her khas came up behind him. Jhogo was the first to lay his arakh at her feet. “Blood of my blood,” he murmured, pushing his face to the smoking earth. “Blood of my blood,” she heard Aggo echo. “Blood of my blood,” Rakharo shouted.
And after them came her handmaids, and then the others, all the Dothraki, men and women and children, and Dany had only to look at their eyes to know that they were hers now, today and tomorrow and forever, hers as they had never been Drogo’s.
As Daenerys Targaryen rose to her feet, her black hissed, pale smoke venting from its mouth and nostrils. The other two pulled away from her breasts and added their voices to the call, translucent wings unfolding and stirring the air, and for the first time in hundreds of years, the night came alive with the music of dragons. (Daenerys X, “AGOT”)
It’s only downhill from here, folks. But, my god, what an ending.
Stray Observations:
- Donald Sumpter gets one line this episode. He only says, “Bran,” after receiving a letter with news of Ned’s death in it, but it is enough to bring me nearly to tears.
- Speaking of, Bran (Isaac Hempstead-Wright) has another one of the world’s ugliest and most boring three-eyed crow dreams. Why must the North be so devoid of color? At least Rickon (Art Parkinson) and Shaggydog show up in this episode.
- The bard tortured in this episode is Marillion (Emun Elliott). In the books, he is unnamed, though Cersei will later imprison and torture the Blue Bard, who is in service with House Tyrell. Marillion, who traveled with Cat and Tyrion to the Eyrie, stays there, where he will later try to rape Sansa and then get blamed for the death of Lysa Arryn (Katie Dickie). “The singer’s killed my lady wife.”
- Poor Gendry thinking that his master sent him away because he grew tired of him, when in reality it was to save Gendry’s life from Cersei’s crusade against her husband’s illegitimate children.
- Really, if you think about it, Sansa and Jaime have some crazy parallels about becoming disillusioned with the songs and stories of their childhood and the nobility of knighthood… but I’ll save that for season three.
- Tywin’s armor is some really excellent costuming.
- The whole “King in the North” scene takes place in Riverrun in the books, and by the end of “A Game of Thrones,” we’ve already met Cat’s father, Hoster; her brother, Edmure; and her uncle, Brynden. They won’t be show characters until next season.
- “Am I your brother?” Theon asks Robb, who responds, “Now and always.” Uh, buddy, you might want to rethink that…
- Turns out Cersei is sleeping with her cousin Lancel (Eugene Simon)… and Osmund Kettleblack and Moonboy for all I know.
- The book’s version of Mirri Maz Duur’s prophecy goes like this: “When the sun rises in the West and sets in the East. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quakens again, and you bear a living child. Then he [Drogo] will return and not before.” The show, interestingly, chooses to omit the line about Dany’s presumed barrenness, though for what purposes, we may never know.
- Is Emilia Clarke’s head pasted onto a body double in the last scene? It looks weird, but I can’t find any evidence of this.
- Maisie Williams’ wig after Arya gets her hair chopped off is so, so bad.
- Cat’s confrontation with Jaime actually happens in book two, “A Clash of Kings,” when she goes to free him in exchange for her daughters. Jaime also has this zinger of a line that he gets denied here: “I seldom fling children from towers to improve their health. Yes, I meant for him to die.” It’s easier to forget someone when they’re offscreen as opposed to off-page, however, and Coster-Waldau might have had a contractual obligation for a certain number of episodes this season. I’m not complaining, as the scene also includes another great line from Jaime when he says, “There are no men like me. Only me.” Equal parts narcissistic and self-loathing, though the full meaning won’t be known until much later.
Episode Ranking:
- “Baelor”
- “Fire and Blood”
- “The Pointy End”
- “A Golden Crown”
- “The Wolf and the Lion”
- “The Kingsroad”
- “Lord Snow”
- “Winter Is Coming”
- “You Win or You Die”
- “Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things”
“Game of Thrones” Season One Trailer
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