What’s the best feeling in all of fiction? Not the best line. Not the best character. The best feeling.
It’s a forehead slap.
Huh?
A forehead slap. Not the “lord, that was stupid” forehead slap of a thousand GIF-based memes. Huh uh. The opposite of that. The one that comes with “lord, I should have seen it coming.”
The best feeling in all of fiction comes when a plot line unfolds so beautifully that on completion it seems like it never could have happened in any other way. It happens when the last clue is produced or the last motivation is revealed and it ... All. Just. Fits.
It’s the moment when Cole looks down at the wedding ring. The moment when Verbal stops limping. It’s the moment when you don’t just understand what happened, you understand that the components of this revelation were laying out there for you to see all along. Sure, getting to the resolution one heartbeat ahead of Sherlock has its own appeal, but it can not match the jaw-dropping, breath-stopping, forehead-stinging moment when everything comes together in a way that feels like it must have been written into the physical rules of the universe.
Unfortunately, that kind of satisfaction is a rare thing. Too often that last ball drops and what you get isn’t the forehead slap. It’s the forehead wrinkle. That’s the expression that goes with “that’s it? After everything we watched we got … that?”
Last night’s Game of Thrones, unfortunately, had a high wrinkle-to-slap ratio.
There are people on both sides of the book reader / viewer-only line who have cheered the idea of the series outrunning the text. Finally—finally!—series viewers don’t have to worry about some twist being revealed in advance and book readers don’t have sore lips from biting them all the time.
But this season is a decidedly mixed bag, and what much of it shows is how much the series benefited from having the books available as source material. The show has been weaker without that material to provide detail, dialog, and the richness of a fully-realized world. Much weaker. And it doesn’t show signs of improving.
Adapting a book for television or film is always a matter of deciding what to leave out, and so long as the book was on hand, the producers on Game of Thrones did a good job on weeding down plot lines such as Brienne’s endless, pointless, fruitless wandering across the countryside. Even the best plot points of the series benefited from an excess of material. Sure, book readers sometimes moaned about what was left out, but series producers only had to decide “gee, do we leave in a little silver, or stick to merely the gold.” The level of dross was refreshingly low. When most of the choices were editorial, the series did well.
Now that we’re beyond the limits of the published text, we can only assume that the producers are working from the Cliff Notes version. This happens. And this happens. And eventually the Sand Snakes defeat the Night’s King by using their magic boobies while Dany, Jon, and every other major character bicker ineffectually somewhere way over to the right (sorry for the spoiler).
Deprived of the complete text, the gears and levers behind the series have shown through all too clearly. The machinery isn’t just a little creaky, it’s groaning. Plots have been rushed, new characters have been simplistic, and existing characters have all too often turned into ciphers not because they’re being clever, but because they’re not. When the series turned from cutting down the book to padding out the outline, the padding has been ragged.
All too often, the dialog for this season has sounded like it was lifted from a movie of the week (see Sam and Gilly at Horn Hill for a prime example). All too often characters have hidden things that didn’t need to be hidden for no other reason than to drive the plot forward (see Sansa, and… more Sansa). And worst of all, characters have been forced to do something blindingly stupid for no good reason whatsoever, and for that see…
Braavos
Let’s go back a few Arya-sodes. Having used her House of Black and White skills to knock off someone on her sleepy-time must-die list (someone being Meryn Trant, the Kingsguard who probably killed her fencing instructor back in season one, Syrio Forel), Arya is punished by beeing forced to drink a potion that makes her blind. Then, for some unspecified time, she’s put out to beg on the streets of Braavos while Shona (I know the character is just called “the waif,” bear with me) shows up on a regular basis to beat the crap out of her with a stick. After an extended period of stick-beating, Arya shows enough spine and says the right words to get herself admitted back into the good graces of the grand organization of faceless men (population: 2). She’s then given the assignment of killing an actress. Only the actress proves to be a sympathetic character, so Arya not only gives her a break, she points out the person who contracted with the faceless dudes to conduct the hit. This results in faceless leader, Jaqen H'ghar, directing other faceless person, Shona, to put an end to Arya. Realizing her danger, Arya retrieves her long-hidden sword and hides.
Then last time in Braavos we saw Arya parading around in broad daylight, tossing around money and talking loudly in a section of town she’s known to frequent, followed by casually leaning on a bridge railing while Shona walked up slowly to give Arya a stab, stab, stab, twist to the guts. Arya did a flip from the bridge, swam through the canal, and was last seen bleeding in the streets of the market.
Arya’s behavior last week was so (literally) bloody stupid that the stupidity alone spawned a thousand fan theories. It wasn’t really Arya! It was Jaqen pretending to be Arya to test Shona. Shona doesn’t really exist! She’s just Arya’s alter-ego in a fight club scenario. Neither of these turned out to be true, but we can wish they were, because both theories were infinitely better than what we got.
This week, Arya dragged herself back to the actress she helped, who handily knows how to stitch up wounds. Apparently she also knows how to resect a punctured intestine and mend a sliced liver. The things you learn in acting school! After being non-magically patched up, Arya drinks a dose of opium juice. Because going to sleep while you’re being hunted by remorseless killers is a fine idea.
She wakes to find that the actress has been killed, but Shona hasn’t taken out Arya in her sleep. Apparently because of the lack of gloating opportunities. Arya manages to make an escape from the acting troop and leads Shona on a parkour chase through Braavos that would do a fair job of killing most people even if they didn’t have major internal bleeding.
Finally, Arya lures Shona into a dark space, where Shona herself is nice enough to shut the door before Arya puts out the light, then puts out the light (Hello? Othello on line one). When next we see Shona’s face, it’s looking out from one of those niches on the wall of the House of Black and White. Arya then holds Jaqen H'ghar at swordpoint before refusing a last opportunity to enter the order (population: 1). Instead, Arya loudly reclaims her name, declares her intention to sail for Westeros, and walks off leaving the world’s (supposedly) most dangerous assassin in the lurch.
The frustrating thing about this sequence is that it didn’t have to be stupid. What if Arya had gone to the actress before her encounter with Shona? What if she knew Shona was approaching, but when grappling with her directed the knife blows to a particular part of her body—say a part where she had special protection. Arya was wearing thick clothing. Perhaps she had some form of armor under there? Maybe even a little stage blood?
If the whole thing had been set up so that Arya only appeared to be badly injured, and then purposely led Shona into a trap where A Girl could be much more prepared then expected, then it would work neatly and satisfyingly. It would also explain how Arya is able to run so quickly through the town with Shona in pursuit, and why she so carefully leaves a clear blood trail at every intersection. Frankly, it seems like the story line that was intended to work this way. But somenoe either jumbled the notes or botched the editing to make “clever Arya” apparently impossible.
Instead we’re left with stupid, reckless Arya. And if we have stupid Arya, then we have painfully incompetent Faceless Men. And if we have painfully incompetent Faceless Men, what we really have is three seasons in which Arya could have been doing something more worthwhile than listening to janky word games with people who are painfully incompetent. If the House of Black and White is so pitiful that a half-trained apprentice with a few weeks of sword lessons can both do in one of their assassins and sneak up on the leader of the place, then … frankly, I could meet scarier people at 2AM at the nearest White Castle.
The best thing we can say about the Braavos plot line is—it’s over. And dammit, I bet this is going to be better in the books. Please don’t make me say that again, producers. It’s not satisfying for anyone.
Oh, and while Arya is talking to the actress, she mentions the idea of looking to see what’s west of Westeros, where no one has ever been. One can only hope that it’s a land that hasn’t been trapped in feudalism for 12,000 years.
Somewhere in the Riverlands
We last saw Arya’s erstwhile partner, the Hound, after he left behind all the folks murdered at the Swearengen Sept. This week he chases down one group of people—none of whom he saw at the murder site—and chops them up with an ax. Which is a bit harsh, though at least two of them were making bad jokes, so ... Medieval comedy critics, people, they’re tough.
The younger Clegane brother then tracks down the three people he actually saw at the scene of the crime, only to find they’ve already been nabbed by other members of the Brotherhood Without Banners and are soon to be executed. The Hound is upset that he doesn’t get to chop them and has to settle for strangling merely two.
It’s a relief to see that both Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr are still around and that their faction of the BWB still seems to be among the good guys. The two of them note that bad things are happening to the north and attempt to recruit Sandor to join them. It’s not clear that they’re successful, but it’s likely. Which means that the Hound could be marching north just in time to meet Arya sailing back from Braavos.
Book readers might note that we’ve made it this far without seeing … you know who. I suspect this means we’re not gonna see … you know who. Which is just as well.
Riverrun
Down the road at Riverrun, Brienne and Podrick Payne arrive. We get a few minutes with Pod being teased by Bronn. It’s a fun pairing, and I’d like to enjoy it, but it ticks me off because Pod is pretty much the best person left in the whole universe. He’s been stalwart, brave, decisive, and he deserves more than getting smacked around by Bronn. Also it ticks me off because it seems like wasting time that could be spent a lot better elsewhere in this episode.
Meanwhile, in a tent next door, Brienne reunites with Jaime. Their discussion is without a doubt the best few minutes of this episode as we once again see the tension of their friendship played out against the great disparity in their characters. I have to hand it to these two. They’ve really settled in, and while other actors seem to be phoning this season in (sometimes by long distance), both Jaime and Brienne have developed extra layers that don’t replace, but supplement the strengths they already displayed.
Brienne has come to appeal for help from the Tully army. Jaime has that army encircled within the castle of Riverrun. Brienne offers a solution that will work for them both: Allow her to enter the castle and talk to Sansa Stark’s great uncle, the Blackfish. If the Blackfish agrees, Brienne can lead the Tully army from the castle, past the Lannister / Frey / Sparrow horde and off to help Sansa. It’s a neat plan that would put people where they really need to be while allowing Jaime do what he’s really charged with doing—take back the castle.
Unfortunately, the plan depends on the Blackfish both surrendering the castle and accepting Jaime’s word that his army will be allowed through the lines. The elder Tully isn’t buying either of these arguments.
But he really should. Because Jaime is holding Edmure Tully, who is theoretically the leader of House Tully. With only the lightest threat (and some discussion about how much they love their sisters, though it’s a good bet Edmure didn’t love Cat in quite the same way that Jaime loves Cersei) Edmure agrees to go over to castle and ask for the drawbridge to be lowered.
At this point, the soldiers inside Riverrun have been fighting with the Blackfish for years. They’ve overcome fantastic odds to oust the Freys and secure the family home. They’re stocked against years of siege and it’s none too clear the army at the door has the time or the inclination to wait them out. Plus, in making any deal they have to accept the idea that the people outside aren’t going to simply kill them.
And yet, as soon as Edmure appears outside the door, the men of Riverrun become the most pedantic bunch of jackasses in the history of Westeros. They turn on the Blackfish, lay down their arms, and surrender the castle without a fight. Because … rules. Worst. Rebel. Army. Ever.
Riverrun is lost. Sansa doesn’t get any help. And every one of you idiots deserves to be run through Ramsay Bolton’s kennels with a steak tied round your neck.
To make matters worse, the Blackfish gets himself pointlessly killed. Off screen.
That sound outside your window is me screaming in frustration. Once again we have a plot that could have gone somewhere, but we’ve accomplished … what? What have we accomplished? Nothing. Freys had castle. Freys lost castle. Tullys got castle. Tullys lost castle. Freys have castle. About the only difference between step 1 and step 5 is that a good character died ignominiously.
Anyway, Brienne and Pod are headed back to Sansa, though it seems unlikely they’ll get back in time for the brewing action.
Meereen
Remember when I said that the producers this season were only working from Cliff Notes? Well the note for Tyrion—for the whole season—said just “Tyrion waits in Meereen.” That’s the only way to explain how in eight weeks of episodes, we’ve had at least two nights of Tyrion staring at Grey Worm and Missandei and trying to engage the show’s most silent characters in banter, along with two scenes of Tyrion and Varys walking back and forth along the same street. Though look! The extras are back in town this week, making Meereen at least seem like it’s not the ghost town of Slaver’s Bay. Varys is off on a quest. If we’ve been told what that was, I slept through it, but in any case, good for Varys. Go. Go do something.
One thing that seems to have improved in Meereen is the security, because Tyrion and Varys walk around the place without a guard in sight. For a place where recently the anti-Dany faction was powerful enough to do in some of the Unsullied along with Ser Barristan, this seem remarkably relaxed. But then, Tyrion spends much of the episode congratulating himself for his clever dealing with the slavers, which lasts right until the moment when the slavers sail into the harbor and start bombarding the city with great balls of fire.
The response from all quarters is pretty much panic and more panic. So it’s a good thing that’s the moment when up on the rooftop click-click-click, it’s Drogon Claus! Dany comes into the pointy-topped apartment with a none too happy expression to see who let things get into such a mess. Uh oh. Mommy’s home.
We also get a glimpse of Drogon sailing off over the city. Let’s see if those boats are fireproof.
King’s Landing
Another week, another reminder of just how little respect anyone holds for Cersei. First, the High Septon announces that he wants Cersei to come over to the Sept for a chat. It’s interesting that now that Tommen has agreed to the church and state power-sharing agreement, the followers seem to have dropped the “High Sparrow” bit for the more formal title.
Cersei refuses to play along, allowing Frankenmountain to indulge in a little sparrow-murder. Though honestly, none of the guys coming for Cersei is wearing more than a robe. Any armored knight could have taken out the lot without fear of much more than a scuff.
In the throne room, Cersei is made to stand in the back row, where she receives the news that Tommen and the High Septon have decided to outlaw trial by arms. You’d think this, being a massive change in the legal structure of the country and breaking with a tradition that goes back forever, might attract a little chatter or even protest. Nope. But it sure screws with Cersei’s plans, which relied entirely on the invulnerability of her man-thing to allow her to get away with anything she wanted. Instead of having the Mountain stand in for her, Cersei and Queen Margaery’s brother, Loras, will have to stand in front of tribunal of Septons. Which is probably not going to go well.
And Tommen dusts by mommy as if she’s not there, giving her a heart-stomp in the process.
Still, Cersei has another Cersei Plan in the works. Qyburn gives her a little nudge on something that has been so long forgotten that it probably counts as a spoiler by now. Way back there, pre-Battle of the Blackwater, Cersei was on the trail of some missing wildfire. We don’t know for sure, but that’s probably what the not-a-maester is on about.
Expect something to blow up green Real Soon Now. Considering how things have been going for the Lannisters, it will probably be Cersei.