Game of Thrones: A Man Without Honor

You know, considering the British presence on Game of Thrones and the fact I typically use Canadian spelling on this blog, I REALLY want to call this episode "A Man Without Honour." But I will resist. ;)

Welcome to week 7 of our Game of Thrones rundown. I'm joined, as ever, by the bookish Christopher "Damn it feels good to be a Lannister" Lockett, who will give us the literary perspective, while I look at the episodes purely as a viewer. I will let Chris take the reins first this week!

Christopher: I think it’s safe to say that this episode’s recurrent theme was all about oaths and loyalty, with Ygritte and Jaime Lannister playing devil’s advocates and pricking holes in the hypocrisy of their interlocutors. Ned was the de facto protagonist of season one, which put the question of honour and integrity versus pragmatism and opportunism center stage right up until the point when his head went rolling down the steps of Baelor’s Sept. At which point—as we observed in our comments at the time—all bets were off in terms of our expectations for Game of Thrones. That was when we knew it was an HBO show through and through—that the typical narrative of embattled honour winning out against snide relativism was not to be. Indeed, many of the early reviews of season two observed that in hindsight, season one was really just an elaborate set-up—that the real action started with this season.

As both watcher and reader, I must agree. Season one and A Game of Thrones went to great lengths to chip away at our generic expectations—to dash all the Tolkien-based conceptions of what fantasy is and does.

Watching “A Man Without Honor” managed to bring all this home once again. In an interview, when asked what his favourite episode of the series so far is, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau said it was this one. And no freakin’ wonder! Jaime Lannister has been more or less absent all season so far, so it was wonderful to have him back in all his arrogant glory. And Nikolaj has a lot of reason to be proud of this performance—his portrayal of Jaime is pitch-perfect. If Joffrey functions as the unalloyed villain of GoT, cruel and sadistic and sociopathic and easy (and fun) to loathe, Jaime is the spoiler—he is, in many ways, as cruel and ruthless as his son, but is extremely intelligent and capable as well. He is painfully adept at pointing out others’ hypocrisies, especially where he is concerned—his speech to Catelyn about oaths and their profusion, and the inevitable conflicts that arise, is faithful to GRRM’s text and beautifully articulated here.

I was also reflecting in admiration about how GRRM has set up this story (meaning, this entire series) … Jaime Lannister’s prehistory as the Kingslayer, the man who killed the Mad King and thus broke his oath as a member of the Kingsguard—but in the process (1) giving justice to a monarch as (ironically) sadistic and cruel as Joffrey, and (2) keeping faith with his father—provides such an ambivalent and shifting foundation for everything that follows. He is reviled as a man without honour, but as he points out to Catelyn, it’s unclear to whom he owes his ultimate allegiance. We recall some of his moments in season one—for example, when he was reviled by Ned—in the same conversation!—for standing by and watching King Aerys burn Rickard and Brandon Stark to death, and for breaking his oath to that same king. Which is the right course?

Ygritte gives Jon Snow a taste of similar medicine as he marches her across the tundra. (Quick question: did anyone else find it ENTIRELY unbelievable that she couldn’t get out of his rather clumsily tied ropes at night? I mean, seriously—this show is otherwise so good, why would they make such a stupid gaffe?). What is freedom? What is “proper” behavior? Her mocking of his virginity, which she quickly discerns, and his prudery, is merely reflective of the broader question—which is, what gives one person the right to rule another? What makes one person a king or queen, and another a vassal? As she suggests to Jon Snow, it’s always a matter of choice—to which he responds, yes, I chose to join the Night’s Watch, for which she chides him for being a fool and a slave.

Nikki: I loved the scenes with Ygritte; she’s a fabulous character, one who knows who she is in the world and has such an arrogant self-confidence you can’t help but admire her for it. The way she chides Jon Snow, even as he’s holding the ropes and seems to be in charge, is wonderful. First she asks him if he pulled a knife on her in the night (snicker), then asks if they have to keep sheep at the Wall (HAHA), and just seems astounded that any man would pledge to remain a virgin while keeping a rather brutal post at the Night’s Watch. It’s a great question… what is the point?

I agree entirely with you about this episode being about oaths and loyalty, which is evident in the scenes you mention. And from that theme, the episode — and the season — asks the question, why? All season we’ve seen lesser characters asking the main characters to explain their motivations, their loyalties, their reasons for doing what they do. Why is Robb Stark fighting this war? What does he hope to achieve by it? Why is Theon fighting the Starks? Is it just to prove himself to a group of people that he can never prove himself to? Why are the men from the Wall fighting the wildings, when they come from the same ancestry, and should be working together?

Once again we get some more extraordinary scenes between Arya and Tywin, where he tells her that she reminds him of his daughter and she does her best to hide the fact she just threw up in her mouth a little at the comparison between her and Cersei. Tywin does speak to her as if she’s one of his own; in fact, he probably gives her more of his time that he ever gave one of his own, and he’s impressed by her knowledge and the way she knows the stories of the dragons. In this scene, not only do they go toe to toe like they did last episode, but Tywin knows he’s being matched, and calls her on it. She tells him she learned everything from her father, and he says, “I can’t say I’ve met any literate stonemasons.” She snidely responds, “Have you met many stonemasons, my lord?” While he’s amused by her, he does know when to let her know it’s time to back off, and calls her on it here, telling her to eat her food elsewhere. But lest she become haughty that she’d just shown him up, he points out that he can see through her ruse, and if she really were as low-born as she says, she’d say “m’lord” instead of “my lord.” Arya, Miss I-Have-An-Answer-For-Everything, simply turns on her heel and tells him that her mother taught her to speak propah! Then corrects herself (on purpose) by saying, “properly.” Of course, he sees through that, too, and doesn’t buy her story for an instant. Oh, I can’t wait for the day he discovers she’s Ned’s daughter.

The truly bizarro moment of this episode happened in Qarth, where the Warlock worked with Zaro to rise up and kill the rest of the Thirteen, but then the Warlock threatens Dany and scares the bejesus out of everyone. How did that play out in the books? I know the dragon-napping didn’t happen, but did this scene?

Christopher: Nope. Totally invented. They don’t explain much of anything about the inside politics of Qarth in the novel, so there’s a lot of room for the series to do their own thing. I’m not sure what I think about this tack they’ve taken, though the warlock’s invitation/command to Dany to come to the House of the Undying means that we’re soon going to link up again with the original storyline. Without giving anything away, that visit is a pretty crucial moment in the novel, but not from a narrative perspective—so I’d started to assume they were going to skip it.

Apparently not. Which makes me very interested to see how they translate it to the screen.

(Can I also just say that the warlock’s uncanny resemblance to a white, heroin-addicted Abed from Community saps some of the character’s eeriness? I keep expecting him to end his creepy proclamations with “Cool, cool … coolly cool.”)

I have to say, I’m disappointed with Daenerys this season … she was such a force to be reckoned with last year, but now she just comes across as something of a petulant child—stamping her feet and threatening people a lot, but no one is inclined to take her seriously. She certainly seems out of her depth: until the shocking scene when Xaro and the warlock take out everyone on the council, all of the spice lords and merchants are utterly unimpressed with her. All of her conversations with the fat man have merely served to highlight just how powerless she is; but worse than that, she lacks any sort of gravitas this season. One can just imagine how well Tyrion might fare in a similar situation, given just his wits; I would have hoped that Dany would and could do more than just throw temper tantrums. But alas, that seems to be all she has in her quiver.

Which is a shame, considering that the women on GoT are otherwise pretty awesome. In contrast to Daenerys’ petulance we have Catelyn being AWESOME yet again when she faces down Robb’s truculent lords over the fate of Jaime Lannister, and then facing down the man himself in his cage. Michelle Fairley is so freakin’ good in these scenes—especially facing down the Karstarks as they want to behead Jaime. It was reminiscent of her dealings with Renly … no wonder Brienne has sworn her sword to Catelyn’s service.

And of course, as you mentioned, we have the most recent installment of the Arya/Tywin show, which continues to rock. This time it is used to give us some history, and we get the story of how Harrenhal was built and the hubris of Harren the Black in the face of dragons. “Aegon Targaryen changed the rules,” Tywin reflects, but Arya isn’t about to let him get away with that. “And his sisters,” she reminds him. Heh.

Tywin’s odd comparison of Arya to Cersei (and yes, ick) would seem to the suggest that the old man is given to some sentimentalism after all. Basically, he’s remembering his daughter’s impudence and fire; but of course we see a very different Cersei than Tywin remembers, though in this episode the conversations between her and Sansa and then her and Tyrion are a little odd. Odd, but in keeping with Lena Headey’s portrayal—Cersei is cold and ruthless, but much more given to melancholic reflection than in the novels. Her little disquisition to Sansa about who to love was really quite sad and poignant … especially when she admits to Tyrion that Joffrey is essentially a psychopath and wonders out loud what they can do with him.

That, I should point out, is entirely out of step with the novels … in the books, Joffrey is Cersei’s massive blind spot—she simply cannot see that he is anything but her precious boy. That they have her acknowledging her son’s, um, batshit insanity in the series is interesting. It makes me wonder where they plan to go with it.

And there was a moment where Tyrion looked almost like he was about to put his hand on her arm to comfort her. Were you also waiting for him to do that, and receive a stinging slap for his presumption?

Nikki: That was a wonderful moment, played beautifully by Dinklage. He moves toward her, pauses, moves again, pauses, and you can see the conflict in his face. He’s disgusted by what his sister has done, and while he knew in his heart she and Jaime had had an incestuous relationship, she actually admits it outright to him in this scene. He wants to comfort her, and yet he doesn’t. She’s his sister, but also his enemy. She’s vulnerable in this moment and wanting of comfort, but as you say, she could slap his hand away so quickly he’d be reeling. We’ve seen her push him over, we’ve seen her cut him to the quick by reminding him that he was the biggest joke she’d ever seen.

And then, of course, the confusion in his face almost translated to, “Wait a minute… in this family brothers comfort their sisters in different ways, and… yeah. I’m going to go over here now.”

I was also intrigued by the scenes with Sansa. She gets her period for the first time (she comes off as so much older than that; we keep forgetting she’s just a child) and desperately wants to keep the news from anyone, knowing that the moment she’s fertile, she’ll be expected to have Joffrey’s baby. And god only knows what sex with Joffrey would be like. (SHUDDER.) Earlier in the episode she thanked the Hound for saving her life, and he gruffly reminds her that he’ll be the only person saving her from her husband one day. Interesting that in the moment of her needing to hide the menstrual evidence, who should suddenly be standing there but the Hound.

The scene cuts to her and Cersei, where Sansa says she thought it would be less messy, and Cersei snorts, “Wait til you have a baby.” Sansa’s mother is gone, off fighting a war with her older brother, and so Cersei steps in as the distant mother figure in this scene. But her words are far from comforting. She tells Sansa that Robert went off hunting whenever she gave birth, but Jaime was at her side. She likens her marriage of convenience to Robert to what Sansa will face with Joffrey: “You may never love the king, but you will love his children… Love no one but your children; on that front, a mother has no choice.”

I couldn’t help but laugh that this episode aired on Mother’s Day.

And as you mentioned earlier, this is only the second time we see Jaime this season, and he’s great. For the first time I truly felt sympathy for his character, and again as you mention, realized just how richly wrought he is. We see Cersei admit to the incest, and now Jaime admits to it as well, telling Catelyn about the relationship. He escapes momentarily, only to be brought back, and he pushes and pushes Catelyn, but she refuses to budge… until he pisses her off one too many times, and she draws a sword. The scene ends there, but I know Catelyn’s too smart to kill him off; she needs him to get her girls back. I’m thinking the next time we see Jaime he’ll be missing a body part.

But that wasn’t the only cliffhanger of the episode. The major one was still to come, as Theon head off looking for the Starks, humiliated that somehow a paraplegic, an idiot giant, a wild whore, and a small child (this sounds like the opening line of a sick joke) eluded his capture. The Maester pleads with him to let them all just go, but Theon has his reputation to protect. His men look upon him with more respect now than they did just a few episodes ago, and when he finds Hodor’s telltale walnut shells, he sends the old man back to Winterfell… presumably so he can get the boys and do terrible things to them.

The episode ends with him in the square of Winterfell, reminding them all that he had reassured them that if they crossed him, they’d pay. And then he raises the two tiny charred bodies that are presumably Bran and Rickon. Despite watching Ned’s head get lopped off and realizing no one is safe on this show, I don’t believe those two bodies belong to the boys (of course, I could be terribly wrong). We didn’t see them die, we know Theon is crafty, and I feel like Bran has a longer story than this. But then again, I thought Ned had a longer one, too. So we’ll see what happens next week!

Any final words, Chris? I do have one final question for you: what’s with the weird facial mask on that woman in Qarth? Is it a traditional mask, or is there something wrong with her face? And are we supposed to know what she means when she asks Ser Jorah if he’ll betray Dany again, or was that as mystifying to everyone else as it was to me?

Christopher: A paraplegic, an idiot giant, a wild whore, and a small child walk into a bar. Possibly because the priest, the imam and the rabbi had the day off.

Yup, can’t do anything with that. Ordering drinks for their direwolves? “Anything but walnuts”?

.

It’ll come.

In the novels, Daenerys receives cryptic advice from time to time from a woman in a lacquered wooden mask whom she meets in Qarth, and who then shows up for her periodically in what I assume are visions. I have to assume the sorceress in the weird mask is the same character, so presumably the mask is traditional or a sign of office or some such thing. The scene in which Jorah talks to her is another invention, but was quite interesting and not just a little eerie and tense.

Jorah betrayed Dany at the start—he was a spy for King Robert, reporting on her. When the wineseller tried to poison her, that happened just after Jorah was given a letter telling him he could come home, remember? But he chose Dany, realizing that the wine was poisoned and intervening before she could drink. So Jorah has always already committed a sort of original sin with Daenerys, joining her initially out of self-interest, but eventually becoming won over to her cause … and falling in love with her, as we see.

The sequences with Sansa were heartbreaking, as they were in the novel. They haven’t done quite as much in the show with her relationship with the Hound, but we get a sense of their odd connection—he is among those who tells Sansa hard truths, especially in terms of fracturing her love of old songs and stories in which knights are handsome and virtuous. The Hound rescuing her from her would-be rapists was not romantic but brutal, as brutal as the men he killed; and when she tries to thank him for his gallantry, he’s having none of it. He reminds us that knights are warriors and fighters, and that their principal role is killing. His little speech about killing as the sweetest thing there is, and suggesting that her father took pleasure in it (even if he pretended otherwise) is not exactly on par with Jaime and Ygritte’s reality checks, but falls into much the same category.

The scene with the blood in the bed reflects in part the problem with aging the characters—in the novel, Sansa is twelve. In the series, she’s obviously still young, but it is hard to believe she is only just now starting to menstruate. Which I suppose in the grand scheme of things is really neither here nor there, but it does add a wrinkle to the show’s otherwise smooth continuity.

That being said, it remains an extremely poignant moment, for it reminds us that if girls are vulnerable in this world, becoming women is also an ambivalent passage—for as Sansa’s panic makes clear, she is all too aware of the fact that she will now be seen as a more valuable playing piece in the game of thrones. That, and her revulsion at fathering Joffrey’s children sends her into a frenzy that is, if anything, entirely understated.

So … three episodes to go, Nikki, with an awful lot that still has to happen! Excited?

Nikki: Nah, I’ll probably just let the last three pile up on the PVR and watch them some time in August or something, and… YES YES YES I’m so crazy excited! And sad there are only three episodes. Who do you have to bribe in this town to get the season upped to 13??

Just one last thing about the ages; girls can menstruate for the first time at age 16 or 17; it’s extremely rare, but it does happen. So I suppose it’s possible, if a bit of a long-shot. However, for me the even more distracting age discrepancy was with Jon. As you know, I started reading the first book before realizing it would give me your insight to the characters, and I wanted to continue doing the back-and-forth with you being the only one who knew the books, so I stopped. But I got far enough to discover that Jon Snow is all of 14 at the beginning of the book, and thinking of him being younger with Ygritte — 15 or 16, as opposed to the TV version, who is played by a 25-year-old — the scene made more sense. Jon should be really green, a young boy just coming into puberty, which would make his sacrifice greater, and make Ygritte’s taunting more effective and hurtful. Of course, being taunted as a 25-year-old virgin is worse than a 15-year-old one, but a younger boy would lack the maturity to handle what she says.

These are all minor nitpicks, since I still enjoyed these scenes immensely. (Oh, and earlier you mentioned the ropes that Ygritte had around her; I think she chose to stay put, knowing he wouldn’t kill or hurt her, and instead she could lure him into her trap.)

And thank you for the reminder of Ser Jorah! I’d completely forgotten that he had indeed betrayed her already. It’s moments like that that are important to remember — like in season 1, when Baelish tells Sansa the history of the Hound and then whispers to her that if the Hound finds out she knows, he’ll rip her from limb to limb, establishing her fear of him from the start.

On to next week!!

Once Upon a Time: "A Land Without Magic"

Once Upon a Time's first season came to a stunning close tonight as Emma believed, Henry died, true love broke a spell (twice), the Mad Hatter got revenge on Regina, Belle returned, Mary and David were reunited, the whole town remembered who they were... until the last five minutes, it felt like a series finale. Without the final scenes of Gold dropping the true love potion into the well, this could have wrapped up everything into a neat little bow and been the perfect season. Here's hoping season 2 will deliver on the wonderful promise of season 1 and not make us wish there was only a first perfect season (I'm looking at YOU, Veronica Mars). With this remarkable ensemble cast and almost endless possibilities of what the writers can do with the fairy tales, I've no doubt we're in for another treat next year. 

I've been remiss in posting the last couple of weeks because I promised my 7-year-old daughter that she could watch the last three episodes with me, and that I wouldn't watch them without her first. Tonight we made sure my husband could put my son to bed so I could watch the show live with her, and she is SO funny. (Next year when I go back to posting on OUAT regularly, I'm adding a "what my daughter said" category for all the moments she made me laugh out loud.)

In "The Stranger," August was finally revealed as Pinocchio, but as he tried to demonstrate his wooden leg to Emma, she stared at it and saw nothing but a man's leg, because her refusal to believe in magic made her unable to see it when it was right in front of her. In that episode, we finally see his backstory, and that the blue fairy had turned him into a real boy and said he would remain one as long as he was "brave, truthful, and unselfish" (because as we all know, all boys possess these characteristics all the time, right?) ;) What I loved about the reveal is that just the week before, fans were finally turning onto the Pinocchio theory in droves, and it's like they knew EXACTLY when the audiences would glom on. I also loved the idea that Pinocchio talked to Emma the way Locke talked to Jack: "Why is it so hard for you to believe?" (I wanted Emma to say, "Why is it so easy for you?" And Pinocchio to shout back, "It's never BEEN easy!!") ;) Emma, like Obi Wan Kenobi, is told in this episode that she's their only hope, but she's not buying it. 

Fave lines from the 7-year-old in this ep: When David drops by Regina's house and Regina invites him in, my daughter said, "Oh no! She'll probably make him drink apple juice. Or eat apple pie." Ha! And later when David tries Regina's lasagna and says, "You really know how to work some magic," my daughter said, "BOOM!" (I've honestly never heard her say that, and it was perfect timing.) 

Her lack of belief continues into the next episode, "An Apple Red as Blood," an excellent adventure tale where a swashbuckling Xena Snow White: Warrior Princess and her equally awesome "Kick-Ax" dwarfs enter the castle of the king to save Charming, only to discover he's trapped inside a mirror. At the end of "The Stranger," Emma had abducted Henry and told him she was leaving, and in this episode when he realizes she's going to try to leave Storybrooke he stops her from doing so. She takes him back home and then faces the admonition of Mary, who is very angry with Emma's choices. In the other world, the queen (in another one of her FABULOUS Fairy-Tale World power suits), uses Charming to trap Snow White, leading to the aforementioned scene where Snow storms the castle, and she takes her back to "where it all began," the hillside where she saved Snow's life on the horse. She finally reveals the true price she paid when Snow shot her mouth off, and tells her to eat the poisoned apple or Charming will die. The twist here is that Snow willingly eats the apple, rather than being tricked, which in this version of the tale is the only way it'll work. (Again with the Lost references, it's like Ben Linus telling Jack that he didn't simply tell him he needed a spinal surgeon; he needed Jack to WANT to do the surgery on Ben.) In Storybrooke, Regina gets the Mad Hatter (oh YES he was back and my heart leapt) to allow her to snatch the apple from the FTW, and use it against Emma. She makes her an apple turnover, and Emma takes it home and lays it out on a plate, rather than doing the INTELLIGENT thing and just throwing the damn thing in the garbage (it came from Regina... do you need glasses, Emma??) Emma "trusts" Regina now that they've made a deal (which is a moment that highlights just how many fairytales are about deal-making... and, as Emma says in a BRILLIANT line, "In any deal both parties are a little unhappy." I never thought of it that way, but it's true.) Henry realizes he's willing to sacrifice his own life to save everyone in Storybrooke, and in one final act, makes Emma believe: he eats the turnover, and falls into a deep sleep. 

Fave line from the 7-year-old: After the Queen explains why she changed the image in the mirror before Snow and Charming could get closer, and then talks to her about her evil plan to meet her, my daughter said, "So... what did she mean about not wanting tongue marks on the mirror?" HeeHEE!!

And that brings us to the season finale. Henry is rushed into the hospital with Emma at his side, and Dr. Whale can't seem to figure out what's wrong with him. "It's like it's..." "Magic," Emma completes for him. She rushes into another room and dumps Henry's belongings onto a bed... including The Book. As soon as she holds it in her hands, that tiny glimmer of belief in magic resonates and causes her to see everything, and in that one moment she figures it all out, and knows in her heart that Henry was telling her the truth. She FINALLY believes. 

And that's when Regina walks in. Nice timing, Ms. Mayor. 

Emma goes nuts, pushing her into another room and slamming her against a cabinet, and Regina 'fesses up to everything. Despite everything, she really does love Henry, and knows she doesn't have the strength or time to fight Emma now; she must reveal everything to her if they're going to break this curse. And, as Regina says, magic in our world is unpredictable, and Henry could die. 

In the FTW, David has just swordfought his way out of the castle with the help of the Huntsman (Graham!!! Oh, dear writers, PLEASE bring him back in flashback many times in season 2... it was wonderful to see him again), and the queen uses magic to flick him into the Infinite Forest. But when he's there, he runs into the old, beginning-of-the-season, insane Rumpelstiltskin, all high-pitched giggles and jazz hands. He has Charming's mother's ring, the one that Snow White had originally taken from him at the beginning of the season, and he's enchanted it so when he's close to Snow, it will glow. But "all magic comes with a price," and in this one, he has to place the true love potion into Maleficent, who is in the form of a dragon. In our world, David tells Mary that nothing in his life makes sense except for her (an echo of what he originally told Mary at the toll bridge before he decided to make a go of it with Kathryn) and he's in love with her, but will be leaving for Boston unless she can give him a reason to stay. "David... I can't," she tells him, and our hearts break as we see the tears run down his face, and she, equally miserable, gets into her car. 

There's an oft-repeated trope in this episode that foreshadows the end, and that's that "Love is the only magic that is strong enough to break every curse." Despite the fact that Storybrooke is supposed to be the world without magic, I loved the idea that love IS a magic, that we have magic in our everyday lives. There's nothing reasonable or practical about love -- we feel it without provocation, we love unconditionally, we love our parents and children and friends and significant others and pets. Love is all around us, and it's like magic; it can do things to a person that they don't understand and that doesn't have any reason attached to it. People have died of broken hearts (witness how many long-married couples die within days of each other). Love can lift you up and it can force you to come crashing back to earth. All because of this magical feeling inside us that no one can explain. 

And it's stronger than anything conjured by the most powerful sorcerers in the fairy-tale world. 

Now that Emma believes, Regina takes her to Gold, who tells her about the love potion that he saved for a rainy day (to which Emma responds, "Well it's stormin' like a bitch, so where is it?"). You can see Regina's eyes glaze over for a moment, and I thought at first she'd try to wrestle the potion away and use it for bad, Henry be damned. But she stays true to herself and her son throughout this episode. He tells her he's hidden it inside someone, and she'll need her father's sword. 

Regina stops by Henry's bedside to tell him how much she loves him, and she's interrupted by the Mad Hatter, who tells her that he needs to cash in their deal of the previous episode: he helps her get the apple, he gets his daughter back. She says no, deal is void, the apple didn't work. (Yep, even by her kid's possible death bed, she doesn't have a heart for another parent.) So, the Hatter looks at her like he's about to hurt her more than she could imagine. I immediately thought he'd do something to Henry, but oh no, he came up with something better. 

Before going to the "beast," Emma stops by August's room, and now she can see that he's turning into wood. She tells him she can't break the curse yet, because she's focused on Henry, her priority, and begs him to help her. He says he can't do anything, but she can. "You can save all of..." he says, interrupted when his throat closes up and his entire head turns to wood. (My daughter looked at me confused and said, "She can save an olive?" HAHAHAHA!!!! I seriously had to pause the episode, I was laughing so hard.) 

But, as my daughter and I were marvelling at Emma's Terrible, Awful, No-Good Day, this poor woman woke up that morning thinking Operation Cobra was the fantasy created by an unhappy boy, and now she's fighting a FREAKIN' DRAGON. For that is what she has to fight, and the form that the Queen had left Maleficent in in our world. Interestingly, the dragon is standing near Snow's coffin, which is also there, and I wonder if, back in the mine-shaft episode, would Henry and Archie have eventually stumbled upon the dragon if they'd followed those tunnels long enough? 

Meanwhile, the Hatter breaks Belle (BELLE!!!) out of her "prison," which, interestingly, is right next to Sidney's room (and who is the guy with the long hair who's always washing the floors? One of Cinderella's ugly stepsisters?? He looks like a Chief Bromden reject from a stage production of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest). He tells her to go straight to Gold and tell him that Regina had locked her up all this time. BEAUTIFUL. 

Emma defeats the dragon by piercing it in its heart and reducing it to ashes (I guess if they ever do find their way back to the FTW, Maleficent won't be joining them), just as, in the FTW, Charming defeats the dragon, gets the ring from Rumpelstiltskin, and finds Snow in the fancy new duds he was wearing in the opening moments of the series (nice moment of continuity to switch him from the clothes he's been wearing for several episodes to the one he had to be wearing to keep things consistent). 

Meanwhile, in our world, Emma brings up the egg, but Gold takes it from her and rushes off, just as Emma and Regina get the call from the hospital. They rush there, but it's too late: Henry is dead. My daughter and I were both upset; imagine that all this little boy ever wanted was for Emma to believe, and now that she does, he's not here to see it. I actually thought it was real, because I believed the season would end with them all returning to the FTW, and Henry wasn't part of that world so maybe he couldn't go there. 

But no, it's better than that. Belle returns to Gold, and Gold's eyes nearly pop out of his head. He's so elated he doesn't seem angry with Regina at first, until he takes Belle into the woods, up to the well that is his connection to the other world.

Emma rushes to Henry's side (notice that Regina hangs back) and she leans down and kisses him, breaking not only the curse of the apple, but The Curse. My daughter and I were cheering on the couch, SO happy and completely involved in what was happening, and it was marvellous to watch all of the other characters remember who they once were. The best, of course, being "Snow!" "Charming." SMOOCH. 

Mother Superior/Blue Fairy turns to Regina at the hospital and repeats what Gold had said to her in the previous episode, that she'd better find a good place to hide, because many people will want her dead. Regina rushes back to her house (not a good hiding spot, but anyway) and hugs Henry's pillow close. I believe her when she says she truly loved him. But just as everyone's getting their happy on, they see the purple smoke billowing from the forest. Gold/Rumpelstiltskin has dropped the potion into the well and causes it to spread throughout Storybrooke, bringing magic back. Henry says something bad is coming, and Regina stands at the window and smiles that evil smile of hers. 

And the clock returns to 8:15. 

So, what happened there? Did he take them all back to the fairytale world? Or did he just bring magic into this one? I'd love to see more of the characters dressed the way they are in the fairytale world, and it would be fun to see Emma having to adjust to gingerbread houses and knights and magical places, and watch these characters have to adjust to a return to their old lives again. But if we went there full-time, perhaps we'd lose that flipping back and forth that is key to the show. So maybe he just brought magic into Storybrooke, and now the characters still live in our world, looking like they do, but they remember who they were, and that would keep the flashbacks continuing. But would the fun of these people not remembering who they really were be gone now? What about all the other creatures that we haven't yet seen? (Ariel? Peter Pan? Jasmine?) 

Or is it possible he's erased some of the memories again? What's clear is that with magic, comes power, as he tells Belle, and the two people who have used magic are Rumpel and the Queen. Will she regain everything she's lost? And what will happen to the rest of them? 

All I know is, we're in for a very long three months. 

Game of Thrones: "The Old Gods and the New"

Welcome to week 6 of our season 2 coverage of Game of Thrones. I’m joined this week by Christopher “Cow-Pie Flinging” Lockett, as we look at the antics and heartbreak of “The Old Gods and the New.”

Nikki: Arya almost being spotted by Baelish; Jon getting hit on by a wildling; Theon executing a man with a death by vicious hacking; and Daenerys losing her dragons… where do we begin?

If I had Facebook Timeline, this would be
my key picture. ;) 

Oh, you know where I’ll begin: The Great Cowpie Flinging Incident! Hahaha… never have I been so happy to see shit hit someone’s face. BRILL-YANT. Just as he’s watched his sister Myrcella ride off into the sunset on a boat (while he shows no emotion, natch), Joffrey walks back through the streets with the Lannister clan in tow, and at first he hears what he wants to. Silence, followed by, “Hail, King Joffrey.” Of course, the viewers at home (and Tyrion) immediately glom on to the sarcasm dripping with every syllable, and soon you can hear shouts of, “He’s a bastard! Freak!” Joffrey makes the completely reasonable and calm decision to KILL THEM ALL!! EXECUTE THEM!!... while his far more intelligent uncle realizes the true urgency: Where the hell is Sansa? At first, you may think he’s genuinely worried for her safety (and that may be a tiny part of his motivation) but in truth, he’s really worried about his only bargaining chip. Cersei let Arya slip through her fingers, and if he will ever get his beloved Jaime back, he needs Sansa.

The shouty repartee that follows once Tyrion and Joffrey are safe is brilliant.

Tyrion: We’ve had vicious kings, and we’ve had idiot kings, but I don’t know if we’ve ever been cursed with a vicious idiot boy king…

Joffrey: They attacked ME!!

Tyrion: They threw a cowpie at you so you decide to kill them all!

Joffrey: You are talking to a king!

Tyrion: [SMACK!!] And now I’ve struck a king! Did my hand fall from my wrist? … [to the others] Where is the Stark girl?

Joffrey: Let them HAVE HER!

Tyrion: If she dies you’ll never get your Uncle Jaime back… and you owe him quite a bit, you know.

For all the Joffrey haters out there, I encourage you to relive all the glorious moments of him getting smacked in the head by going here. 

I thought for sure something terrible was going to happen to Sansa, but luckily the Hound gets her in time. I’ve liked the Hound since season 1, ever since Baelish said he couldn’t be trusted (from that point on I assumed he probably could be trusted), and watching the look of barely suppressed rage on his face every time Joffrey calls him “Dog” makes me hope that Joffrey has his coming to him soon (but by that same token, as we saw a man get his arm pulled off, I began to worry that Joffrey may be killed; he’s too much fun to hate to lose him so soon…)

What did you think of the episode, Chris?

Christopher: I loved this week’s episode, both because it satisfied my expectations as a reader, and completely took me by surprise. I’ll come to what surprised me in a moment—let’s start with satisfied expectations.

Joffrey continues to be the best villain on television, and the riot scenes gave us yet another glimpse into his sociopathic worldview. He has no human feelings on seeing his sister sent off to what will most likely be a loveless marriage; and even more than that, scorns those who do express emotions as weak. But where his personal dignity and need for absolute submission is challenged, we see him fly off the handle. Jack Gleason was brilliant here: his is the most thankless role on the show, and he does a lovely job. His rage completely consumes him, but his voice cracking as he screams is both hilarious and pathetic, reminding us that he is a petulant child. But a petulant child with the power of life and death, and who must be obeyed. But even kings have limits to their power, and that fact completely escapes him. He is still the same mewling brat he was when Arya took his sword and made him sob in terror (as Sansa reminded him subtly), but here he doesn’t even have the common sense to be terrified.

One of the things I’ve come to look for when I sit down after watching one of these episodes is the moments of rhyme—often we’ll see a similar scene or situation played out in parallel between different narrative threads. This week the two most striking instances were Bran and Joffrey dealing with rebellions; and the beheading scenes, with Theon and Rodrik and Jon and Ygritte. There was also the inappropriate flirtations—Jon and Ygritte again, and Robb and Talisa. Overall we return to the recurring themes of governance and duty, and what makes a good leader. Joffrey reminds us that he is just a child; Bran is a child too, but he behaves in a calm and measured way, looking to the good of his people and only  losing his calm when Rodrik is on the block (which is not something that happened in the novel). Theon’s behavior at Winterfell echoes Joffrey’s childish petulance—as if he honestly doesn’t get why these people might resent him. The botched beheading is gruesome and cringe-inducing, but was such a powerful moment. It recalled Ned’s grim efficiency in the first episode of season one, and his death as well. It also reminded us that beheadings weren’t always clean—the guillotine was invented for just that reason. It took three blows to behead Mary, Queen of Scots, and it was said that she cried out during the process (as one would). So, an element of historical realism here … but also a significantly symbolic moment for Theon, who is goaded into carrying it out himself by Rodrik. His inability to cleanly decapitate him reflects his inability to lead.

Poor Rodrik. He was one of my favourite secondary characters in the novels, and I felt that Ron Donachie played him beautifully—a simple and understated performance. But alas, he falls victim to the reaper that is GRRM. Valar morghulis and all that.

Nikki: Excellent job of making those parallels. And since that was going to be my next section, I’ll just throw it back over to you.

Okay, maybe I’ll write something first… What I really liked about the scene where Theon comes crashing into Bran’s room is how unaffected Bran seems at first. It’s like he doesn’t take Theon seriously. Theon dances about the room, agitated and repeating over and over that HE HAS TAKEN WINTERFELL and is now the Lord of Winterfell, and Bran just stares at Theon like he’s some sort of idiot. He addresses him the way a brother would another, which is fitting because that’s how he’s been raised to think of Theon; as a brother, but… not quite. Bran has always been above Theon, even when they were treating him like a sibling. As Theon tells him repeatedly to yield, Bran just calmly and quietly asks him questions. (Also, notice how unimpressed he is by Theon’s theatrics, and the fact that Theon is declaring himself the Lord of Winterfell. That’s fine; Robb has already declared himself King of the North, so he trumps Theon anyway.) I loved that after all Theon’s aggressiveness, Bran simply asks, “Theon, did you hate us the whole time?” and leaves Greyjoy completely speechless. In this scene, Theon truly lives up to his ancestry; even his moments of joy are tinged by greyness.

Theon enters the square, and can’t find any loyalty there, either. In a continuation of the parallels you pointed out, this scene mirrors the one of Joffrey walking through the square. As people shouted at him that he was a bastard and a freak, in this scene Theon shouts to his people that he is now their lord, and reminds them, “You all know me!” “Yeah, we know you as a steaming sack of shit,” shouts back one of them. Theon doesn’t want to behead Rodrick, but one of his men whispers to him that if Rodrick has shown him up, he needs to pay the Iron Price. Theon must do this in order to prove himself a Greyjoy.

I laughed that you brought up Mary Queen of Scots and her beheading, because in the scene that followed, I was reminded of the time I went to the Tower of London, and the beefeater who was our guide gleefully told us of the time this one man was executed and the executioner did the deed with a dull axe, and chopped and hacked away for what seemed like an eternity, until the head was hanging there by sinews and most of the audience had passed out. When Theon held up the sword, I looked at my husband and said, “That sword won’t cut through.” He responded, “Not on the first stroke.” I grimaced, thought of the story at the Tower of London (one of those stories that always stays with you) and cringed, saying, “This is gonna take a while.” And did it ever. And just to add a final flourish, Theon KICKS the head off. Good GOD.

And… in my notes I spelled the wildling’s name Ygritte, so I’m feeling rather good about myself now. I think I’ve caught on to GRRM’s spelling system! (Well, probably not… I just got lucky.) But here’s my question to you: could you remind me exactly what the wildlings are? I thought wildlings were anyone who lived north of the Wall, and that the guy who married his daughters was one of them. But now I’m thinking that’s not quite right, and that they are literally running wild in the tundra. What is a wildling?

Christopher:  Wildling is a generic term for the people living north of the Wall, yes … and at first that’s really all we know about them, aside from their characterization by the Night’s Watch as uncivilized and brutish. But as with the Dothraki, we’re initially presented with what seems like an undifferentiated caricature of a barbarous people. I know the initial depiction of the Dothraki turned a lot of people off—and a lot of people otherwise deeply invested in the show found it troubling. Ditto for the novel: at first it looks like GRRM is indulging in a simplistic and indeed racist stereotype, but the more we learn about the Dothraki the more we realize that they’re a subtle and complex culture, and we see Daenerys adopt many of their customs and mannerisms (and by the time Viserys is killed, his own dismissal of them as brutes is a reflection of his ignorance and ineptitude as a leader).

It’s sort of the same with the wildlings, though without the more troubling racial components. Jon’s encounter with Ygritte is our first time actually meeting a wildling, and it sets the stage for the slow revelation of their multivalent cultures. At this point however (here’s the short answer to your question), what you need to know is that the wildlings call themselves the “free folk,” and choose to live north of the Wall because living south of the Wall would entail submission to a liege lord. They are not “wild” per se … they just reject any sort of authority that hasn’t been earned.

But (I hear you asking), don’t they have a king? This Mance Rayder fellow? Well, yes … and no. It’s more complicated than that, and he is not “king” because of any sort of hereditary right. And that’s all I’ll say on that for the moment.

But let’s talk about my favourite parts of this episode: every single thing Arya does. I should qualify this by pointing out that none of it is in the novel. Sometimes there are brilliant sequences that follow the novel verbatim, and are brilliant because of it (such as most of Tyrion’s bits); sometimes there are invented sequences that are tepid or just bad (some of the “sexposition” bits, such as last season’s scene where Littlefinger instructs his whores on how to fake an orgasm); and then there are wholly invented sequences that are brilliant in their own right, which function well within the bounds of the characters as created by GRRM but nevertheless augment our understanding of them.

All of the Arya/Tywin scenes are like that. Holy crap they were good (though I shouldn’t be surprised after last week’s taste). Tywin is proving to be a very intriguing character—I was iffy on the casting of Charles Dance at first, but he is doing a brilliant job. He and Maisie Williams have an awesome rapport, and in an interview he said that she was his favourite actor on the show to work with. (And what’s even more brilliant is an interview with Maisie in which the interviewer tells her that—the look of delight on her face is wonderful).  

One gets the sense in these scenes of Tywin’s solitude—he is surrounded by his subjects, but has no one he can really trust or talk to, and finds himself oddly compelled to talk with Arya. It is obvious here how fraught his relationship with his own children is. His upbraiding of his barely-literate commander shows that he is a man who values not just martial talents, but intellectual ones, and we get a glimpse of his difficulties in instilling such lessons in Jaime (and making Jaime dyslexic? A very interesting little modern touch).

On the other hand, his despised son, Tyrion, is obviously the one to have inherited Tywin’s intellect. Though he is not mentioned at all, he is an unspoken presence in Tywin’s ruminations.

What did you think of these scenes?

Nikki: These scenes were fantastic. The moment we hear the announcement that Lord Baelish has arrived, I felt a cold chill go down my spine. And, as you say, the way Maisie Williams handles herself in the scene is why. She’s terrified, but does her duty, and does so deftly, in a way to not bring attention to herself yet keep her face away from Baelish’s always-suspicious eye. I agree with you that she’s a wonder. Those huge, gorgeous, and always reflective eyes; the way she holds herself in the scenes; the way she seems like a 25-year-old in a young person’s body. She’s just amazing. Between her and Kiernan Shipka, who plays Sally Draper on Mad Men, we’re seeing a sea change of what is expected in a child star. No more hamming it up for the camera or simply being cute; these two girls can ACT. And, as a result, I believe they will continue to get work throughout their careers and not fall prey to the “former child star syndrome” that has befallen so many. But back to that scene; I was on pins and needles. By the end of the scene I was convinced that Baelish knew that was Arya, but decided to hold onto that information until he could make it useful for him. But now I’m not so sure (he usually makes his move pretty quickly afterwards).

That scene is equaled when Arya snatches the note from Tywin, which is subsequently snatched from her, and she races through the streets to Jaqen H’ghar. Can we find a way to get this guy into every scene? I love him. I need him and Arya to gang up together and take their show on the road. They are extraordinary to watch. She quickly tells him she has a second man he has to kill and HE MUST DO IT NOW!!! He stares at her with his calm gaze and responds to her in that Yoda-like way that he talks, referring to everyone – including himself – with pronouns: “A man cannot be told when to kill another man.” But she insists it HAD TO BE DONE RIGHT NOW, and after what appears to be a subtle eyeroll from Jaqen H’ghar, the scene cuts to Tywin’s chamber, where Tywin opens the door, and the man falls over, dead. I was howling with laughter. Brilliant scene. You’ve only got one wish left, Arya; use it well.

"One wish you have left."

This brings us to the final scenes where Sansa tells Shae that she hates Joffrey more than anyone and Shae tells her not to trust anyone (which would make Sansa smarter than Ned if she listens to her); Osha sneaks the Starks and Hodor out of Winterfell using her sexual wiles; and Dany’s dragons are stolen. That was quite an exciting final five minutes, didn’t you think?

Christopher: Indeed (or, to use the Omar inflection, in-daide). The Osha bits more or less followed the novel, except for where she seduces Theon. In the novel, Osha is described as being decidedly unattractive—and GRRM himself said he was concerned for that very reason when they cast Natalie Tena, but that she quickly won him over. And I must confess, if I am allowed a moment of geeky salaciousness, in my notes when Osha disrobes I’ve written “Remus Lupin is a lucky man.”

So Bran and Rickon have beaten a retreat with Hodor, Osha, and the direwolves, which is how it happened in the novel. But then we go to Qarth. Dany comes home to find her children dragonnapped? HOLY CRAP. Totally NOT IN THE NOVEL. And perusing my notes, I see that I was royally pissed off. What were they thinking?

The Disneyfied Mother of Dragons

Well, after a few days to think about it, I can’t say I blame them for throwing that particular narrative monkey wrench into the works.  In A Clash of Kings, Dany’s time in Qarth makes for compelling reading—but I don’t know that it translates all that well into compelling television. There’s a lot of introspection and a few sequences that would probably be hard to render faithfully on screen. Also, there’s not as much Daenerys on the second novel as in the first and third, but cutting Emilia Clarke’s screentime that dramatically would probably result in a cow-pie-flinging mob descending on David Benioff and D.B. Weiss.

So we have the theft of my favourite bits of CGI possibly ever. And I’m as at sea as you are with this one, Nikki—I have no idea where they take this from here, so for a change I don’t get to smugly wait for the “holy shit” moments as they unfold for the non-Ice & Fire-readers.

So there we are. I cannot believe we are almost at episode seven of ten. This series clips along surprisingly quickly, considering how much gets crammed into a given episode.

I just want to close by mentioning that my initial viewing of this episode was rather entertainingly marred by the fact that I went to see The Avengers on Friday, which was pure Joss Whedon awesomeness (or “Jossomness” as my friend dubbed it). What surprised me, considering that he’s one of my least favourite characters, was how much I enjoyed the Hulk—both Mark Ruffalo’s beautifully twitchy Bruce Banner, and the CGI’d green man himself. So when I watched GoT on Sunday night … I kept having fits of the giggles as I imagined the Hulk rampaging through the various parts of Westeros. In my head, he did to Theon what he did to Loki in the film. And that made the entire intrusion worthwhile …

Nikki: “Hulk SMASH puny Greyjoy!! Hulk NEW Lord of Winterfell!”

Wow, I’m so surprised that wasn’t in the novel! Well, I guess you’re right; you and I may be more on the same page next week, so to speak. I giggled when I read your note about Lupin; confession time: I couldn’t remember her character’s name, so I googled, “Game of Thrones Tonks” and found her that way. ;)

We shall see you again next week!