Why is the book so often better than the film? Lots of reasons. Better insight into character’s internal thoughts without resorting to cheesy voice overs or forcing people to talk like tour guides. A greater opportunity to relay emotional nuance than any but the most sterling actors can match. A special effects budget that J. J. Abrams would envy.
But one of the biggest factors that books have over film is also one of the simplest: Time.
Read aloud, even at a quite bracing clip, novels are often eight hours, or 10 hours, or 14 hours in length. Even when a novel is converted to a mini-series, the decisions that have to be made are rarely about what things can be added. They’re about what’s in the book that has to be trimmed away from the screen.
All too often, film characters are reduced to a few touchpoints along the hero’s journey. Here’s Luke as hopeless wanker. See Luke suffer loss. See Luke encounter a spiritual leader. And so on. It’s extremely rare that characters on television or film are given the opportunity to develop in more subtle ways.
It’s why fans of the books—or of fiction in general—should be glad for the success of Game of Thrones. And why in last night’s episode, the real victory was not the obvious victory.
Castle Black
When last we saw Jon Snow, he had literally shrugged off the mantle of leadership and looked to be marching away from the Night’s Watch. So you might have expected this week to find him some distance along the road to somewhere, anywhere, else. Instead, Jon is still there. No longer willing to accept a position of leadership, but also not getting in a big hurry about getting out of Dodge. His hesitancy on both fronts is obviously causing a level of both friction and disappointment. This man doth not fish, neither cutteth he bait.
But Jon’s delay serves an important purpose. It means that he is still there when the gates open to admit Sansa, Brienne, and Pod.
This leads immediately to the most powerful scene in the last four years of the series. As Jon comes down off the stairs and crosses the snowy yard, there is an moment of tense inaction when he faces Sansa. The two of them were never on good terms. Sansa never let Jon forget that he was a bastard. That he is a Snow, not a Stark.
When Sansa moves first, and moves by opening her arms and rushing to enfold Jon Snow, it is a moment of almost unmatched satisfaction. It’s a beautiful moment. An emotional moment. An earned moment. A moment whose power is sketched by the effort and sacrifice it has taken to achieve.
The best line in Game of Thrones—in Game of Thrones the series, not just this episode—it’s simply this:
“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what an ass I was to you … can you forgive me?”
It’s better line than any threat of war, any biting quip, any clever bit of political insight. That level of self-reflection, that self-knowledge, shows how enormously far Sansa has moved from the selfish, dreamy-eyed girl who left Winterfell.
Later, as Sansa tries to convince Jon that they have no option but to return to Winterfell and face Ramsay Bolton, we get a marvelous view of two characters at a crossroads. Previously, Jon Snow has been guided by a solid moral compass which allowed him to navigate a course between men who were caught in ages of tradition and prejudice, and a situation that demanded a radically new approach. But Jon’s death, even if only temporary, has deprived him of his confidence and his direction. He’s put aside his position as Lord Commander (marvelously stated in a visual sense by showing the sword Longclaw being held by Dolorous Ed), and he quite literally does not know what to do next.
At the other end of the spectrum, everything Sansa has gone through has not just reformed her, but given her clarity and purpose. While she is at Castle Black, news comes that Rickon is in the hands of Ramsay, who delivers the news in a message laden with crude threats. Again, we see that Jon has lost his way, as he reacts to the message by making a very un-Jon-like declaration that they should stay away. Sansa is not just unshaken, but made more solid in her purpose.
“I want you to help me, but I’ll do it myself if I have to.”
That’s the second best line in Game of Thrones.
Meanwhile, we get a quick glimpse of Brienne glowering at Davos and Melisandre. Brienne has not forgotten the role that both of Stannis’ erstwhile lieutenants played in the death of Renly. After seeing Davos so often as the voice of reason, it’s a bit unsettling to be reminded of his role in one of the series’ darkest moments.
Oh, and Tormund Giantsbane can’t take his eyes off Brienne every time they’re in sight of one another. Tormund might have done in a giant to earn his moniker, but he clearly has no problem with a giantess.
The Vale
Robin Arryn doesn’t seem to have gained one ounce of skill or common sense in his time off-screen, but the actor playing the role has gained about three feet. The little lord of the Vale ain’t so little anymore.
However, he may be taller, but he seems not one whit better at seeing the transparent manipulations of Littlefinger who is the first of many people who immediately guesses where Sansa is going to go and what Sansa is going to do. Lord Baelish delivers two Goebbels-sized whoppers. First, that Sansa was taken from him by force rather than being delivered to the Boltons on a plate, and second that they’re marching off to Winterfell to selflessly help Sansa and Jon.
What will Littlefinger do when he arrives on the scene in the North? That’s not clear. But he might find that Ramsay is not the most formidable character he faces.
King’s Landing
It’s been some time since we’ve seen more than a glimpse of Queen Margaery, but this week the High Sparrow pulls the queen out of her dark cell for another of his patented Fatherly Chats. The story he tells, of being a cobbler who makes enough money to throw a killer shindig by making fancier shoes, then comes to realize that wine, women, and song don’t satisfy is not just familiar, it’s way too pat. Some of which Margaery seems to get, though she hesitates to call him out on it.
Rather than pitching her immediately back in her own locker, Mr. Sparrow tosses her into the cell with her long-unseen brother, Loras Tyrell. There’s a terrifying moment, bolstered by the speed with which the Sparrow slams and bolts the door, in which it seems that Loras may be dead and Margaery may be locked in with his body. But Loras isn’t dead. He’s just badly broken.
The dynamic here is similar to that between Sansa and Jon, though Loras was never a strong character to begin with and Margaery’s motives seem more directed at political ends. But again, she’s the one who holds things together while Loras wants little more than to find a place to retreat and lick his wounds.
Across town, Cersei meets with King Tommen. There’s a bit of tension at the opening. Having faced one of the Sparrow’s chats, will Tommen be converted to the Sparrow side? Not so much, but like most every other man in the episode, he has been infected with a deep chasm of doubt that makes him more than ever afraid to face off against the faith militant.
Cersei is more Cersei in this scene than we’ve seen since the Sparrow laid his twisty little talons on her last season. She does a masterful job of both bucking up and manipulating her son, which leads to a Small Council session in which Cersei reverses the tables on everyone. Olenna Tyrell doesn’t get much past the point of telling Cersei that she’s worthless before the Queen of Thrones is forced to admit that she’s with Cersei. With Jaime at her shoulder, Cersei convinces both Olenna and her uncle Kevan Lannister to accept a dangerous plan.
The Tyrells will lead their army, the second largest remaining in Westeros, into King’s Landing to free Margaery, dispatch the High Sparrow, and kick the power base from under the faith militant. If it works, it will leave the Lannisters and Tyrells more united than ever, return Margaery to the palace, and cement Cersei as the hand on the wheel.
But even the most casual observer has to notice that there’s about umpteen sizable risks implicit in this plan. Not least of all that the Tyrells will simply move in and oust the Lannisters. Cersei doesn’t have any more children to spare. One quick twist could make Margaery the queen of the whole place, with a conveniently open space on her right if she needs to marry into more power.
There’s also the simple point that this whole thing could blow up in their faces, and Cersei might find herself fleeing her own capital faster than she can scream “let them eat cake!”
Pyke
In a fairly brief encounter, Theon has completed his journey back to his ancestral seat in Pyke only to find that his father has died in his absence. His sister Yara Greyjoy is now vying for the throne, and suspects that Theon has come home another claimant. However, it takes about five seconds to show that if Theon has climbed back from the pit of pure-Reek,he’s still got about as much spine as an earthworm. He holds it together long enough to reassure Yara that he’s there to support her right to rule.
Meereen
Tyrion plays host to a delegation of the slave traders who are funding the rebellion in Meereen. These guys all come from the cities that were previously conquered as part of Dany’s stroll around Slaver’s Bay. Since they’re all now back in business after Daenerys’ departure, and Dany is conspicuously absent from Meereen, it’s not improbable that they think that it won’t take much more than a nudge to oust Dany’s remaining mercenary forces and return everything to unjust normality.
As a compromise, Tyrion offers the slavers a deal: they still have to surrender their slaves, and Meereen stays free, but the other cities can excise slavery in easy stages over a period of seven years. It’s a deal the slavers seem to at least consider, but neither Missandei nor Grey Worm seems very impressed.
Their insistence that Tyrion doesn’t understand either slavery or the slavers seems disturbingly accurate. On the one hand, what Tyrion is doing seems simultaneously like the only option and a huge admission of weakness. Without Dany’s charismatic leadership, and without her control of the dragons, the group in Meereen is entirely open to both guerrilla tactics within and open conflict from without. Tyrion needs a breathing space if he’s going to get any form of control. But Tyrion seems badly out of place and out of his depth. His political witticisms, which seemed so fitting to the situation back in Westeros, come off as trite and even Tyrion doesn’t seem entirely convinced by them.
Winterfell
Last week, Smalljon Umber delivered Rickon Stark back to Winterfell in what was either a massive betrayal or the first move in an attempt to oust the Boltons. Hard to tell. Along with Rickon, the Umbers also offered up former wilding, Osha, who has served as Rickon’s guardian lo these many years. That Osha was along for the ride seemed to bolster the “plot against the Boltons” side of the argument, but this week Ramsay calls Osha into his chambers and after a distressingly brief bit of messing with her head, kills her.
Osha. Damn. This show continues to be merciless to characters you like. And frankly, I’m amazed she went down so easy. I expected Osha to gnaw his face off.
Ramsay credits Theon as the source of the information that Osha was behind Rickon’s escape, and Osha is making for a knife almost from the moment she comes in, so perhaps the Rickon gift basket is still a possible plot. But it sure looks like a weak one.
Vaes Dothrak
Last week we saw Daenerys marched into the Dothraki holy city/retirement home to apply for her spot among the shuffleboards. Ser Jorah and Daario offer a potential rescue, but Dany turns them away. She has her own plan.
As the assembled Khals of all the various hordes start the inquisition over whether Dany is to be allowed to knit horse booties for the rest of her years, she turns the tables on them. She piles on the insults, taunts them, and looks at them with utter disdain and absolute confidence. Challenged, insulted, and threatened with both gang rape and horses (how do you get a horse to … never mind) Dany casually grabs the edge of the nearest brazier and tips a few gallons of burning oil toward the khals. She then repeats this maneuver several times, turning the massive tent into a billowing pyre and crisping every Dothraki leader in one neat package. And she does it without even needing a dragon.
Naturally, we saw Dany walk from the flames at the end of Season 1, and we’ve seen a few hints since then that she and fire get along fine, but as for hey-she’s-entirely-and-consistently-fireproof, I’m not sure that either we or Daenerys had enough build-up to this plot point. It’s a great bullet … except they forgot to show us that she was carrying a gun.
At the end of the action, Dany walks from the flames at the mouth of the burning temple. And, as the camera carefully (and lingeringly) frames her slightly soot-stained breasts, the combined might of the Dothraki nation (along with the pre-smitten Jorah and the slightly more reluctant Daario) fall on their knees before Dany.
It’s clearly the action climax of the episode, but it’s much less satisfying than Sansa’s quiet determination back at Castle Black. In fact, it’s pretty much that moment’s polar opposite in every sense.
Sansa has only a pair of followers. She reaches out to Jon for help, gives him an urgent plea, but plainly states that she is asking for, not demanding, his help. In the cold, crumbling confines of Castle Black, she’s beginning a campaign that’s about returning the North to relative peace and safety.
Meanwhile, this isn’t the first time we’ve had more than a little of a disturbing White Goddess situation surrounding Daenerys as the not-pale, not-blond Dothraki bow before her. Granted, the Khals are not exactly the sort of men whom Dany might be expected to reason with, but still… that unfailing grin on her face as she sets the whole place ablaze is double Not Good. Dany may be right on the subject of slavery, but her travails have not just embedded in her a stiff-spined strength, but also a unflinching sense of her own rightness. With Dany, it’s her way or the fry-way.
Despite a lot of lingering, Dany has shown little ability to do more than burn what’s in front of her. She has the power and determination to win a war. She needs Tyrion to rule a kingdom. Only Tyrion needs to understand that reading the entire history of Westeros isn’t a perfect education for dealing with what’s outside of Westeros.
Sansa and Jon, Cersei and Tommen, Margaery and Loras, Yara and Theon, Daenerys and Tyrion. Did we repeat that theme enough for you to get it? Got it? Good.