As with every season, the last two episodes of Game of Thrones have really picked up the pace as we head down the season's home strait and it brings us here, to a clash that has been touted right from the opening episode; Oberyn Martell versus Gregor Clegane. There are plenty of other things going on in The Mountain and the Viper though before we get to that titular confrontation. Built around alliances and adversaries, the episode features mainly scenes focused mainly on the relationships between two characters or, in the case of the Wall-set moments, two groups at war with each other. It's an excellent thematic device, strengthening the dynamics between characters or in some cases, shattering them completely. It also builds well into the foreboding of the episode as we see the uneasy status quo of this season break down even further.
The opening scenes in Molestown set up a brutal tone for what is to follow, a dingily-lit rout of the citizens within as well as some unfortunate Crows who happened to be breaking the rules that night. A lot of the scenes at the Wall this season have felt a lot like padding, as I've mentioned before, but here, it is all forward momentum as the wildlings close in. The fast pace and editing of the scene leaves a little to the imagination as deaths happen in a reflection in a well or shadows against the wall, but there is a handy bit of gore as blood drains through floorboards whilst Gilly looks on. It also is at pains to point out that Ygritte still isn't an out and out villain in a world full of murky grey morality, allowing Gilly and her child to live and advising them to keep quiet.
The following scenes with Missandei and Grey Worm's burgeoning relationship temper the violence a little and although it perhaps goes on a little longer than necessary, it's a nice continuation from the language lessons we saw earlier in the season. Game of Thrones often breaks off for little asides with minor characters often and it works well, reminding the audience of the larger world around the main players. However, it is the later scenes with Dany, in which she discovers Jorah's betrayal, that pack a more emotional wallop. Emilia Clarke has been given little to do but look imperious and bark orders. Here, she portrays Dany's betrayal brilliantly, all hurt and quiet fury. Iain Glen too brings a noble man to his knees with Jorah, desperation creeping into his otherwise measured and assured actions. It's a fleeting yet significant moment, scored beautifully as ever, fracturing one of the longest standing relationships in a matter of seconds.
In contrast, the scenes in the Vale saw a new alliance form, born out of the desire for mutual self-preservation. The swift dispatch of Lysa in the previous episode left Littlefinger in the frame as he had only just married and looked for all the world like the kind of power-hungry creep he is. The court scene saw him flounder in the face of questioning, leaving it to Sansa to rescue her protector and prove herself adept at playing the political game. It's a showcase for Sophie Turner from the moment she enters, allowing her to play up the tortured heroine side of Sansa's character whilst also demonstrating her knack for manipulation. By the end of the episode, she has not necessarily proven herself equal to Littlefinger's kingdom-spanning scheming, but she's certainly a worthy apprentice.
Alongside this, we also get Arya and the Hound finally getting to the Bloody Gate, only to discover that Arya's aunt is now dead and therefore a ransom is unlikely. Arya really does have the worst luck of pretty much anyone in the show and in a wonderful, maniacal giggle, Maisie Williams channels that frustration and disbelief brilliantly. It's a moment of black humour but one undercut with a tangible sense of tragedy. After everything, Arya finally broke a little.
Speaking of being broken, Alfie Allen's performance as Reek has been sublime from the opening of this season. Here, Reek is asked to don his Theon armour again and take back Moat Cailin (appearing in the opening credits for the first time). His delivery as Theon is stilted and rehearsed, further demonstrating that he has become Reek and nothing else now. We also get to see Ramsay Snow legitimised by his father and become Ramsay Bolton. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's probably not going to do anything to curb the violence.
As a Lannister, Jaime's allegiances within his family have shifted constantly. With his relationship with Cersei all but over, he has been bonding with Tyrion. Their jail-based conversations have been tinged with a melancholy understanding of each other's predicaments and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Peter Dinklage have an easy fraternal chemistry that makes them all the more enjoyable. The glimpse back to their childhood here finds Tyrion contemplating the easy ability with which beetles can be squashed by someone much larger. A neat bit of foreshadowing to the battle ahead, Dinklage performs this monologue with all the wit and passion he possesses. This season, he has been continually excellent as his character is backed further and further into a corner and he's still set to face his biggest obstacle yet, thanks to the mutually assured destruction of the fight between the Mountain and Oberyn.
And so we come to the titular battle, a showdown between one man out for vengeance and the killing machine responsible for the death of his sister, Ellia. The episode teases this clash out an extraordinary amount to the point where it is left with just five minutes or so of the episode in which to get its work done. Thankfully, that five minutes is probably among the best action sequences the show has ever produced. The second Oberyn twirls into the arena, the battle ceases to be about Tyrion's freedom and becomes all-consumed with Oberyn's chance for revenge.
In a big nod to that other vengeance-fuelled character, Inigo Montoya, Oberyn circles his prey repeating "you raped her, you murdered her, you killed her children" over and over again. The fight scene was impressive for a number of reasons, not in the least Pedro Pascal's brilliant performance as Oberyn goes from cocksure hero to a bloody mess in mere minutes. The casting directors and the writers have been particularly mean with Oberyn, because Pascal's performance has been so good that everyone just fell in love with him, myself included. He was sassy, he took no crap and looked every bit the champion in the arena. Of course, everyone should have known not to get too attached.
The direction of the clash, assuredly handled by Alex Graves, captured the ebbs and flows of the fight well ensuring that, if you didn't know what was coming, you probably would never have guessed. The choreography was also stunning, using the characters to provide them with fighting styles that reflected on them and their upbringing; whereas the Mountain was all bluster and large blows, Oberyn's movements were fluid and fast. The manner of his death was particularly violent, yet another memorable moment to add to the collection that began for most people with Viserys' 'golden crown'. It's not like anyone really needed reminded after the sword-in-mouth death of Kurt, but King's Landing is just as bloody and just as brutal as ever.
With the next episode the ninth in the season (we all know what means), the stage is set for some Neill Marshall-directed carnage as the wildlings finally reach Castle Black.
- Becky
You can read Becky's review of The Laws of Gods and Men here.
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Following on the death of a character, particularly one so universally despised as Joffrey, was never going to be an easy task. Usually it is left to the tenth episode of a season to let the pieces fall back into place after a major shock. Yet this is only the third episode and it seems to have wrongfooted the writers, not quite knowing how to follow the Purple Wedding. What does happen are various expositional scenes that do little to advance the plot, but instead, reposition the characters for future event setpieces. It's one of the most pedestrian episodes yet and as such, feels rather disappointing. And then there's that scene which just about everyone is talking about.
The scene in which Jaime has sex with Cersei is straight from the novels themselves. Crucially though, it is written and made clear that it is consensual sex. In the show, it is rape. Cersei protests right up until the scene cuts away, but Jaime overpowers her and carries on anyway. Now, Game of Thrones has always been shocking and has always made sure that the audience is always aware of the hostile environment in which these characters are operating in.
However, this is the first moment in which I've felt that this has been a shock for shock's sake, an attempt at audience exploitation that looks like it is backfiring. It is completely out of character for one thing; Jaime may be a complete and utter git (pushed a child out of the window, folks), but he has always been clear and, in his own twisted way, honourable when it comes to his love for Cersei (pushing the child was for her after all). He's also adopted a strong moral opposition to violence against women which has been a key part of his character from even before the events of the series. Think how many times he defended Brienne during their time together. It makes absolutely no sense on a character level and completely ruins any redemptive arc that they have been building for Jaime throughout the third season.
Does this serve a reminder of his gittishness in the face of us all growing to like him so much? Perhaps. But changing that septor-tryst into rape feels like a cynical ploy to get a gasp out of the audience. Game of Thrones' morality has always been the murky side of grey and I don't think that there is any issues with that. I've certainly never raised it in my reviews before as it has always been inbuilt to key character developments. I don't understand how this has anything to do with Jaime and Cersei's broken relationship other than Jaime taking what he has wanted since he's returned.
There is also the issue that Game of Thrones has never been very good with dealing with the consequences of sexual assault (beyond saying "ooh it makes a bit dangerous for women") and has muddied the ever-complicated waters even more than the books did. The closest example I can think of is the consummation of Dany and Khal Drogo's marriage in the first season in which it was also changed from (albeit iffy) consensual sex to outright rape. From there, Dany and Drogo go on to have a loving relationship, despite the foundations of sexual assault and it was never again raised as an aspect of their relationship. With that as a precedent, I can't see the consequences of Cersei's rape being explored. I sincerely hope I'm wrong and that the show uses it for character development, but considering we didn't get a fallout from that scene in this episode, I'm not holding out much hope.
Then there is the abrupt tonal shift which jars more than a little. Following the horror of that scene, we check-in with Arya and The Hound, currently wandering around the riverlands somewhere. Arya's wit is something that is a constant joy to see and I loved how she dealt with the farmer by coming up with an entire family history off the bat, but it felt completely incongruous to what had gone before. Her interactions with The Hound are some of this season's best moments, but again, this is hampered by a desire to jolt the audience. The Hound beats the farmer and steals from him after accepting his offer of work with a protesting Arya shouting in his wake. It's another scene that feels a little off, mostly because it doesn't advance anything. We all know that The Hound is just out to survive and doesn't give a fig for anyone but the Stark girls (granted, he does have a complicated relationship with them). This scene felt like filler, and not particularly satisfying filler at that.
The shocks didn't end here either, though the remaining gaspworthy moments felt less exploitative than those previously mentioned and more in keeping with the progressing narrative. Ser Dontos was never going to make it out of King's Landing and, though he was lovely and chivalrous in rescuing poor Sansa, he was dead from the moment he took orders from Littlefinger. Likewise, the wildling attack on the village was carried out in suitably brutal fashion, serving to remind us of the dangers awaiting the Night's Watch.
The quieter scenes were also consistently strong in this episode, contrasting sharply with the more brash moments. As ever, Oberyn proves to be just wonderful, an impish blend of hedonism and politics who is never short of something to say. Pedro Pascal versus Charles Dance appears to be a new Game of Thrones event and I can't say I'm complaining. The subtle menace to their interactions makes them all the more compelling and is another classic example of how well the writers do political exposition when it comes to the history of King's Landing and Dornish relations.
Saving its best sequence for last, Dany finally reaches the city of Meereen and gives another one of her characteristically fire-and-brimstone speeches, but not before we get to see Daario Naharis in action. The recast Michiel Huisman has impressed in a couple of brief scenes and continues to do so here, getting in on the action on a one-on-one combat. He also showcases his strong chemistry with Emilia Clarke and with that wink, casts out any lingering memories of the departing Ed Skrein. After the champion of Meereen relieves himself in front of Dany, she selects Naharis as her own representative, quickly dispatches his opposition and lets Dany speechify. The production design in this sequence was beautiful, with Meereen looking every bit the rich and daunting city.
In fact, the production design was probably this episode's greatest strength, from the haunting funereal look of the Septor to the dank and dingy Dragonstone. Sansa's escape to Littlefinger's ship was also beautifully realised, the blue of the fog contrasting sharply to the red hues of King's Landing. This is a plot development I've been looking forward to getting to, as Sophie Turner was starting to have very little to do with her character in the capital. Now, Sansa finds herself away from danger but in the clutches of Littlefinger (amusingly, Aiden Gillen seems to have given up on making his accent at all consistent) which isn't the greatest place to be for a Stark.
After a strong opening two episodes, Game of Thrones has delivered one of its most uneven and troubling chapters yet, one that managed to be both place-setting filler and exploitative drama. Because it has always been so consistently strong, I have found this episode of to be perhaps the most disappointing in a long time.
- Becky
You can read Becky's review of The Lion and the Rose here.
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After what feels like an interminable wait, Game of Thrones returns for its fourth season, promising the usual brand of sex, political wrangling and violence.
When a new season of Game of Thrones arrives, the first episode always has the most difficult job of the ten instalments, re-acquainting everyone with how Westeros lies after the events of its previous season. After the monumental events of the last season, Two Swords appears to have had the toughest job of the season openers so far with the status quo disrupted like never before. It is a testament to DB Weiss and David Benioff that it succeeds brilliantly, once again immersing us in the world and feeling for all the world like it had never been away. Using the tried and tested method of moving across the map and zooming in on the main players' activities, Two Swords gets the audience swiftly up to speed and hints towards the big events for the upcoming season.
The first episode opens with the re-forging of Ned Stark's sword, Ice, overseen by Tywin Lannister (Charles Dance) in a slow-burning (pun intended) metaphor for the climactic events of last season, which saw him cut down the final threatening members of the Stark clan. With Tywin looming out of the shadows, Game of Thrones quickly reminds the audience that the landscape of Westeros has changed hugely again. Gone are the Starks and therefore the last great threat to Joffrey's power and through underhand tactics; the honour that the family prided themselves on has always been their downfall and now, the Lannisters have sent a clear message that trying to attack them with honour is never going to work. Sleights of hand, betrayal and tricks are the way forward.
Speaking of which, we're swiftly introduced to a new political player, one who appears to understand the Lannisters more than most. Dornish prince, Oberyn Martell (Pedro Pascal), also known as the Red Viper, is in town with his paramour Ellaria Sand (Indira Varma) at the King's invitation for the upcoming nuptials. In this scene, Game of Thrones gives us an info-dump of great proportions The Martells' chequered past with the Lannisters has only previously been mentioned in passing when Myrcella Baratheon was married off to a Dornish prince. However, it's in these scenes that the writers really excel, granting us exposition through clever dialogue and thinly veiled political antagonism. We're soon up to speed on the nature of the tension between the Dornish and the Lannisters, as well as the nature of the Red Viper himself, without feeling subjected to endless exposition. Newcomers Pascal and Varma feel like they've been with us the entire time, so easily do they slip into the series' cast, and I'm especially impressed with Pascal, who fills the Red Viper with a calm and quiet rage, threatening to spill out at any second.
North, on the Wall, Jon Snow (Kit Harington) must deal with the fallout from his undercover mission with the wildlings, a mission so secret only Quorin Halfhand knew of it before he did. Jon Snow, like Ned Stark, has always been a bit of a one-note, if fascinating, character, bound by honour. He got interesting last season because he is forced into breaking his oath, engaging in a little duplicity and learning a few other things besides. In his one scene here, we're reminded of that conflict and the guilt that has resulted from both his espionage and his relationship with Ygritte (Rose Leslie). Harington shines in Jon's hearing scene, bringing out the Stark belligerence as well as the taunting wit that is a part of his character in the books and this bodes well for the rest of this season as Jon finds himself battling his former companions.
Whilst the entire episode is strong, there are two scenes in which Two Swords really hits its stride for two very different reasons, reflecting with ease the varying scale of the series. First of all, there is a focus in on Dany (Emilia Clarke) now travelling towards Mereen with her army and three growing dragons. Glimpses of the dragons are always at suitably important moments; here they are used to demonstrate Dany's growing power, as well as the instability of her situation. They are tempestuous and violent, scrapping with each other over a dead sheep which hits the ground unceremoniously at Dany's feet. It's an impressively technical scene with the special effects work on the dragons looking superb with swooping crane shots to highlight their growing strength. Alongside this, we also get wide shots of Dany's vast army and the treacherous ground they are covering. It's the biggest scale we see in the entire episode and acts as a reminder that the insular, often petty squabbling of Westeros is threatened by something far greater.
However, the other exemplar scene is one such petty squabble, a close-quarters, high stakes spat between the Hound (Rory McCann), Arya (Maisie Williams) and a group of bandits masquerading as the King's Men. The group includes Polliver, he who killed Lommy and stole Arya's sword Needle. It's an excellent example of a slow build of tension, as the Hound slowly gears himself up to fighting the assembled troupe. And then there is Arya. I spend a lot of these reviews heaping praise on Maisie Williams, but she is once again excellent here in a key scene for Arya's development. In a beautifully shot sequence, Arya strikes a water dancer pose and cuts Polliver down, striking the first name from her list herself. She slowly and deliberately kills him with Needle, repeating the words he himself had said prior to killing Lommy. The final shot of her standing over him, silhouetted in the light, was the perfect capture of her character and the dark acts towards which she has been driven.
A rousing opening then for Game of Thrones and plenty of hints towards what is promised to be an action-packed season. It has got steadily stronger as the seasons have gone on and if this instalment is anything to go by, we're in for more greatness.
- Becky
You can read Becky's review of Season 3's final episode, Mhysa, here.
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