Image taken from IMDb.
dir. by Matt Shakman
written by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss
Reviewing a serialized show on an episode-by-episode basis can be challenging, as you won't really get a satisfying narrative arc within any single hour of the season. Perhaps this is why so many people writing about these shows call their pieces "recaps" rather than "reviews," as it's easier to relay what happened and insert snippets of editorializing here and there than to nitpick at individual character interactions or technical qualities which are common to the show in general. Individual episodes often have different directors and writers, but especially in the case of Game of Thrones, narrative arcs move slowly enough that critiquing specific episodes can come down to picking at little details.
And yet, I can still tell when an individual episode is above the rest, and "The Spoils of War" is where this season really kicking into high gear. There's emotional reunions, powerful moments, and even a few fun one-liners, and it all concludes in one of the show's most exciting and spectacular battles to date. There's still some clunky exposition here, but this week the show has decided to even further emphasize the nuances of character relationships, and if that doesn't quite compensate for the show's continued lack of intrigue, it's starting to come close.
Bran is here too, introduced through a haunting scene where he coldly dismisses Meera Reed. He thanks her for her help, but that's still a cold response to the departure of someone he's been through so much with, and this leads Meera to poignantly note that the Bran she knew died when he became the Three-Eyed Raven. He also has an aloof reaction to Littlefinger handing him the blade which would have been used to kill him. Even more than Arya and Sansa, he's not the same person he once was. And yet, when he reunites with Arya, there's a hint of warmth. He still talks about what he's "seen" of her, but he at least regards her fondly. Still, this scene isn't as emotional as the reunion between the two sisters, and it ends with Bran giving the knife to Arya, expositing that he has no use for it.
At Dragonstone, the story is a little less exciting. Jon has found the dragon glass, and shows it to Dany alongside cave drawings from the Children of the Forest, revealing that the Children cooperated with the First Men to fend off the White Walkers. It's a little trite to compare ancient lore to the present situation, but the episode subverts this by reintroducing the conflict of whether Jon will submit to Dany. Danerys, while convinced the White Walkers are a threat, still wishes to rule all seven kingdoms, and no matter how much she's come to respect Jon, she doesn't care for his continued independence. Essentially, this is just setup for the back half of the season, but it does become interesting later when Dany rejects Tyrion's failed plans and asks Jon if she should simply march her dragons up to King's Landing.
Jon says that would make her just like the tyrants she's unseating, and this comes back to the season's theme of how a better, kinder Westeros might be possible under these new rulers. In their own ways, both are tied to the old world: Jon fears the reaction of the lords at home, and Dany cannot accept a world where she isn't the ruler of all south of the Wall. But those currently pledged to Dany do so through admiration. They follow her because they want to. It's not democracy, but it's not birthright either, and as much as Dany talks about reclaiming what belonged to her family, her current influence was earned without any help from her heritage. Her father ruled through fear; she rules through love.
But for all that, Dany still champions her own authority above all else. She doesn't understand the populism which drives her campaign, still seeing the Seven Kingdoms as her birthright. While Davos might joke about switching sides after hearing Missandei praise her, Danerys still misses the forest for the trees, vainly perceiving conquest as a greater priority than the existential threat up north. She may not be as bad as Cersei, but she's not as different as she might think. Both are still playing the game of thrones, and in that game, ruthlessness has always won.
That's what makes her conduct at Highgarden so interesting. When she arrives, she's riding a dragon, and she has no qualms about dousing the Lannister forces in dragon fire. As it would appear, she went with her gut instead of listening to the men around her, and that proves successful in that she decimates the enemy. But the scene also shies away from swelling heroism, and there's a degree of ambiguity which is best summed up by Tyrion's dour expression as he watches his kinsmen falling by the dozens, blood and burnt flesh everywhere.
On the other side, we get a little bit of lead-in from Jamie and Bronn, the latter of whom is unsatisfied with the handsome sum the former has payed him. He's serving the Crown, so he wants a castle, which Jamie promises to give him once the war is done. Bronn brings his usual sarcasm to his demands, and now that Olenna is dead and Tyrion is sullen all the time, it's great to be seeing this snarky jerk again. More importantly, Bronn is a commoner in between lords, and all he wants is to get his due. In his own way, he's benefited more than most from the civil war, and in a sense, his small victories are more populist than anything Dany accomplishes.
Later, Bronn and Jamie return to their forces, just in time to hear the distant but growing sound of hoofsteps. For the third episode in a row, Game of Thrones leaves us with a massive battle, this time featuring Dany and her Dothraki horde mowing down the Lannisters like grass. This particular battle might be the best one yet, beginning even before we can see anything with imposing shots of an empty field, a threat just out of eyesight. When the violence breaks out, it's intense and darkly beautiful, defined by smoke, fire, and the tension of bowstrings.
Jamie, Bronn, and Danerys all find themselves in moments of peril, and the Lannisters finally get to test out their secret weapon. As it turns out, though, a single bolt in the wing isn't enough to topple a dragon, and the remaining Lannister soldiers pay the price. At another point, Bronn falls in the mud, his horse dismembered, and his bag of loot - what he's truly loyal to - falling down into the mud. The battle is unpredictable and rousing, and it's as filled with striking iconography with the other two fights without their drawbacks. Even more than last year, Game of Thrones hesitates to kill its major characters, but that absence is hardly felt when the action continues to improve.
If Game of Thrones is still often reliant on reunions and battles, it also builds power in the little details. The swell of Ramin Djawadi's score, the beautiful imagery of that final battle, the nuances in Arya and Sansa's reunion - all point to a show which has somehow still managed to retain a high standard of quality even in its seventh year. Without the strong writing of George R. R. Martin to rely on, the show's best moments are now predominantly audiovisual, existing in the space between lines rather than in the intricacies of story. A lot has changed since those early seasons, and yet the show remains strong. Even a diminished Game of Thrones is still Game of Thrones, and that's something worth celebrating.
No comments:
Post a Comment