For the Watch. And the fans?

After last week's tirade, I'm in an interesting spot as a reviewer. Once you enter The Snark, it's difficult to leave it. As anyone who's ever written criticism of any kind (both constructive and non-) will tell you, it's far easier to be negative than it is to be positive. Knocking things down is much easier than building it in the first place, so I can go ahead and continue to be dismissive of a couple of the storylines in the season 5 finale, "Mother's Mercy" and I will be. At the same time, I think I still have room to say that there were a number of great scenes that both brought us back to the usual level of quality that GoT is associated with and also did a rather amazing job of bringing most of the storylines and characters around to where they are at the conclusion of A Dance with Dragons, the fifth book. So, let's be pedantic and get the sorest spot out of the way first.

In Jerkoff Motion Land, we finally see the buddy cop sequence drawing to a close as Jaime, Bronn, and Myrcella leave behind the ephemeral Doran, the directionless Tyene, and the not-even-named-in-the-show Areo Hotah. At this point, I'm not sure where Dorne fits into the overall picture, as there's a sizable element of the plot in the books that's been left out of the show. Furthermore, Ellaria and the Snakes seem to have just initiated the war that Doran went out of his way to prevent by essentially placing the Snakes under house arrest in the books. Thus, in the show, the rebellion against the crown is on. And, in the books, the rebellion against the crown is also on, but in a less venomous form. It still wasn't worth an entire season of slaphand in a Dornish dungeon.

That said, the scene between Jaime and Myrcella did nothing to damage my impression of Nikolai Coster-Waldau as one of the best performers on the show. The serially changing emotions on his face when Myrcella told him that she knew he was her father were great. That kind of revelation isn't an easy thing to sell without dialogue.

Across the sea in Sitcom, we had the expected commiserating about the loss of the queen and the hashing out of the "what do we do now?" moment. While it wasn't overly surprising to see Daario being the voice of reason, since he's the least burdened by alcohol and emotion among the group and also the most likely to look at things in a linear fashion (straight, like the edge of a (sell)sword), the conclusion that he came to was stock Hollywood. We just ended season 5's buddy cop excursion and now we start another as Daario and Jorah venture off in search of each episode's swordplay scene and, ostensibly, the queen and her largest dragon. It's like D&D have decided that they can't get through a season without a Hollywood trope. This is example A of what has concerned me about much of this season: the episodes were formulaic. You needed X amount of dramatic conversation and Y amount of swordswinging and Z amount of shocking event(!!!) and every episode had those. Sure, there's such a thing as dramatic structure and you do have to apply yourself to the terms of the medium (story told in 10 separate parts) that doesn't lend itself well to a sprawling epic. But when that structure becomes rote and obvious, you have issues. I'm just hoping that they can loosen things up a bit when they start filming this summer, since the screenplays are already written.

Even though it's not canon, I was pretty pleased to see Varys return. He's not in Meereen in the books, but the exchanges between him and Tyrion on the show have been excellent and they picked up last night right where they had left off in Volantis. Watching the two of them try to run Meereen for much of next season should be pretty entertaining. Meanwhile, out on the plains with the queen, we're right in stride with the books, although the perspective was a bit off. Why would an entire khalassar demonstrate in front of one small woman whom they could easily pick off the Dothraki Sea at a whim? I had always assumed that what kept them from immediately claiming her as chattel at the end of Dance was the massive black reptile sitting next to her. Effects shots do cost money, so it was probably cheaper to leave Drogon out, but if they were already doing the CGI for the riders...

The Braavos scenes... bugged me. Arya finally taking vengeance on Meryn Trant seemed wasteful and stupid, probably because it was intended to be that way. Stabbing a victim's eyes out and then basically parading around him isn't quite the conduct of a Faceless Man or any of the other assassination cults of the world (She, clearly, was not sorry at all.) But we already knew that she wasn't willing to be "no one" simply by her conduct from last episode and even from the beginning of the season, since she hid Needle, rather than discarding it. So we really didn't need to see her doing the bloodspatter thing. Even killing Trant with the water and then retreating to the temple would have been enough to get her in trouble, since the took the wrong life. The over-the-top murder scene kind of made it difficult for me to take the blinding scene well. Having someone go blind in an (ahem) visual medium, especially that quickly, is a difficult thing to convey, so I don't have a problem with the technical merits. It just ended up being an evening of too many Arya shrieks and not quite enough of the subtlety that she'd been developing. Either that or I'm just impatient for her to get to the next steps of her development, as she ended up somewhat behind the pace of the other stories.

And so we come to the momentous events of the evening, beginning with Stannis. Carice van Houten really shone here. She had her usual self-satisfied look when the coincidence of the thaw signaled the approval of the Lord of Light (somehow, coincidence always serves religion...) but looked genuinely surprised when Stannis physically brushed her off in the tent and then clearly shaken when the desertions where announced. Going from her usual ic(y hot) queen image to someone who finds her own faith shaken for the first time was a great moment. Stannis, realizing that he's been left with no alternative and no longer a believer in R'hllor, goes all in, anyway. However, I was immediately irked when we see Stannis, supposedly military commander par excellence, leading a disorganized mob toward Winterfell. This is not how sieges are laid, especially when you're leading only those troops that are blood loyal to you and you know the enemy is expecting your approach (yes, I'm totally anal about these things.)

The CGI of the closing battlelines was a great shot and redolent of other double envelopments throughout history like Cannae (the harvest of gold senatorial rings, etc.; yes, I'm a total history nerd. Shut up.) That said, it was aggravating that, once again, the scene ended up being a complete driveby on the battle itself (reminiscent of Tyrion's first martial encounter that he slept through in season 1.) Once again, we have a season full of build-up for... this? We get two minutes of Stannis fighting the rearguard? Epic fail. The sequence was partially saved by the fairly exciting confrontation of Brienne and Stannis. Unlike the Arya/Meryn moment, this one felt wholly justified and Stannis even reinforced that with his typically stalwart acceptance of his fate ("Go on. Do your duty.") Of course, since they didn't show his actual execution, I have my doubts that it actually occurred, since Brienne is wise enough to know that having yet another ally in rescuing Sansa is better than fulfilling her thirst for vengeance.

Speaking of which, Sansa's scenes should have been among the less controversial of the finale except for one thing that the producers and actor did right. So, the whole season we've been watching Reek continue in his servile manner, knowing that no matter what happened (a childhood friend being raped in front of him; said childhood friend pleading for the smallest of favors; etc.), he was Ramsay's, body and soul. Thus, when the confrontation with Miranda occurs, it somehow seems even less likely that Theon would use that moment to reemerge. Alfie Allen had been so good in his role that it was simply accepted fact: he was Reek. By the same token, he had shown a fair amount of struggle in that identity over the latter half of the season, so it's not unbelievable that he chose that moment to finally save his friend, but it did lead to some degree of question. One would suppose that as surely as the arrogant, self-assured Theon can be turned into the mewling sycophant that refuses to leave his dog cage, that same self-assurance can break back through for just a moment. Thus are unusual character studies made, I guess. It's the same route that took place in the books, after all; just not with Sansa.

And then there was Jon. This was the last moment for book-readers to have the one-up on show-watchers, since there's precious little left to know that hasn't been written out of the TV series at this point. I think D&D took the unfortunate route of playing up Olly's discomfort with the inclusion of the Wildlings for the entire season. While the dissent was a factor in the books, it was presented as an undercurrent, such that the final event was a bit of a surprise (yes, even jaded book readers can be taken in once in a while; despite the reputation for Martin killing anyone and everyone, it really doesn't happen that often.) Here it was obvious from about midseason onward, mostly because of Olly. All things considered, they played the scene extremely well. Thorne didn't show any particular glee when he contributed to the removal of his rival and no one else showed much emotion other than some wisps of the dismay that was all over Olly's face. If you're going to mutiny and assassinate your sworn commander, you might as well show some degree of regret or concern over the size of the crime when you commit it, because there's supposedly going to be no one left to call you on the carpet for it. Kit Harrington has been cited in a couple sources stating that his character is dead and he hasn't been asked back. There's at least one link being cited that shows the contract extensions through season 7 for the "A tier" cast, which includes Harrington, but that extension doesn't matter if their character is written out.

Of course, killing off a character far more central than Eddard or Robb ever were, given the theories about his parentage and him being the only other perspective character at the Wall now that Sam is gone, is pretty unlikely. Given Jon's ability to warg (into his direwolf, Ghost... Remember Ghost? Remember when we had direwolves in this show?) and the presence of Melisandre at Castle Black, most fan theories since the publication of Dance have centered around how he's going to return, which suggests that the actor is just engaged in some hardcore trolling.

One interesting note about the scenes at the Wall is the discussion about Sam's voyage to Oldtown to become a maester. In the books, it's Jon who tells Sam to do it, using the same arguments (he's suited, Castle Black needs a replacement for Aemon, etc.), but in the show they decided to reverse it, leaving Jon feeling vulnerable without his friend rather than Sam feeling guilty for abandoning his. It's an interesting statement on where the respective writers see the central character. It also makes me wonder just how much of Sam's activity in Oldtown we'll see, as there are some important details that occur there, but it's also another huge expenditure of sets and locations (although they can probably just use a different angle in Jerkoff Land since it's at the same latitude... snarking, sorry) Since they decided to completely reverse the scene, I wonder if Sam will sail down the west coast of Westeros, rather than the east, since the presence of Ironborn piracy hasn't been nearly as prominent in the show?

And, finally, the Walk of Shame. I have a long-time friend who is also a book-reader who has always been disappointed in the selection of Lena Headey for the role of Cersei, as the actress doesn't fit her image of the character. As I've mentioned before, my opinion is the direct opposite: I think she's been fantastic and has shown aspects of the character as a whole being, rather than the cardboard wicked witch that she sometimes appears to be at certain points in the story. Grasping, vain, ruthless, devoted, spiteful, cunning, arrogant, deluded; Headey has done it all and done it well. The Walk scene last night was easily the best of the entire season and one of the best directed scenes of the series as a whole. Walking revealed and accused as a common criminal through the city that she ruled with iron (no matter who was sitting on the throne), you could see that arrogance trying to shield her from all of the abuse, physical and verbal, but finally failing. It makes up for a lot of things that have gone wrong in season 5 and perhaps gives some hope for season 6. As I said, in the end, they did a lot of good work in wrapping everything back to where most of the book fans think they should be. I still think they need to inject a new writer or two to escape the formula trap and perhaps lessen the obviousness of the short cuts they're taking to condense parts of the books. But now that the books are no longer a framework, I guess we'll see how well they do entirely on their own.

Lines of the week:

"Long may they sneer."
Sam and Jon; spoken like two high school-aged outcasts.

"I'm glad the end of the world's working out well for someone."
Jon's despondency doesn't completely extinguish the sense of humor that all Night's Watchmen require. Look at Edd.

"Bolton has women fighting for him?"
This just struck me as a funny expression of the limits Stannis had pushed himself to in the face of obvious futility. 'After all that and now I have to put up with women from the Dreadfort?'

"You want a good girl, but you need a bad pussy."
Don't we all?

"Have you ever known your mother to like anyone aside from her children?"
"She likes you."
"I'm not so sure about that."
Like Jon, Jaime's wry humor rarely abandons him. That's part of what makes Coster-Waldau so good.

"My Valyrian is a bit nostril."
Mine, too.

"So, mainly you talk?"
"And drink."
Don't count out drinking as a solution, especially in a sitcom. (I'll stop. Really.)

"He's the toughest man with no balls I've ever met."
Ha. Daario has no idea. He just rode away from the world's toughest in Varys.

(What should have been a line from Drogon with that annoying queen-thing on his back: "Go 'way. I'm sleepin'.")

And the winner:

"A grand old city, choking on violence and deceit. Who could possibly have any experience managing such an ungainly beast?"
"I did miss you."
"Oh, I know."
Seriously, the two of them next season just might be awesome.

The Dancers at the End of Time

If only I was actually writing about the Michael Moorcock series and not the latest episode of Game of Thrones. Truth be told, I'd be far more inspired to spend the next hour or two recapping one of Moorcock's lesser efforts (in comparison to things like Elric or Jerry Cornelius) than I am in going back through the latest offering of a series that, barring the one serious uptick last week, has pretty rapidly descended from its former heights. Likewise, this episode, barring a couple great acting moments, offered virtually nothing memorable other than the fairly surprising loss of Shireen. The Dorne scenes were, once again, almost completely superfluous. The Braavos scenes were obvious and fairly pedantic. And the stuff in Meereen continued to be a half-assed version of Gladiator which seemed to leave that storyline with even less direction and intrigue than it had before. Why is Jorah already back in the queen's good graces when the character is so much more interesting when he's stewing in frustration? Why is Hizdahr zo Loraq dead, thus robbing the story of his connections to the nobility of Meereen (i.e. the Sons of the Harpy) and the rivalry with Daario? With Daenerys gone, is the rule of Meereen to end up in the hands of a former slave (Missandei), a mercenary (Daario), a disgraced Westerosi knight (Jorah), and the Imp? It sounds like a sitcom. My suspension of disbelief is withering quickly and with it, the wonderful pace and texture that has been the hallmark of this series since it began.

Despite the leading image, I'm not overwrought about the loss of Shireen. I think Kerry Ingram played the role well and brought a lot of humanity to scenes that often lacked it because of the presence of her father. Unlike in the books, she also opened the door for moments with said father that made him more human than he has otherwise been portrayed. As many of you probably know by now, the decision to end her story is one that has been made by GRRM and will be a moment in The Winds of Winter, so giving D&D abuse for deviating from "canon" in this instance is sorely misplaced, as they didn't.

Tangent:
Giving the showrunners grief for their deviations from the books at this point is idiotic; full stop. The show was never going to be in lockstep with the books. It's impossible. Martin specifically wrote the story to be unfilmable because of its size and the number of characters involved. It was his playground to finally be able to do whatever he wanted and logistics be damned. People crying about this or that happening to Sansa or not happening to Jaime really just have to get over it. The books are unfilmable. No set of actors, directors, and producers could do it. Changes have to be made, have been made, and will continue to be made. The show has to be enjoyed on its own merits now, especially given the fact that the next book may not emerge before the show wraps up. This will be the last time I bring this up. /tangent

That said, if you are going to run a show for several years, you kinda have to maintain your audience by giving them something worth watching (This is today's Tautological Lesson™.) Season 5, with few exceptions, has not been a way to maintain that audience because Weiss and Benioff haven't really given us anything to wonder about other than why they're making the choices that they are.

Witness Dorne. The entire excursion into the last of the Seven Kingdoms has been a complete waste of time. Alexander Siddiq, as Prince Doran, has had a grand total of about 10 minutes of screen time for the whole season. What has that told us about him as a character? What has it accomplished other than showing Ellaria's impotent rage over the death of her paramour, Oberyn? We already have that with Cersei. We already have that with Sansa. Hell, we have that with most of the women in the show and would have more of it if they'd included the Lady Coldheart storyline, but that theme has been beaten into the ground. If they were going to introduce Dorne (and I would have been sorely disappointed if they hadn't but, yes, would have recognized the logistical need to sacrifice it), then include the genuine plotting nature of that family and its portrayal in Feast and Dance. If there was anything that could have been cut, it's the Sand Snakes and their (all together now) impotent rage. In a season marked by extended conversations about background events, the ones that really could have whetted our mass appetite for next season are the ones we didn't get from Prince Doran. Yes, show-watchers, there's an assload of story (surprise!) behind the Dorne stuff that has a lot to do with what's going on in Essos and what happened during Robert's Rebellion (even more than what Oberyn referred to last season.) But you're not going to get any of that because, instead, you got Bronn being Bronn and Jaime being Jaime and no one doing anything but running in place, both in terms of character development or plot progression. The one word label for "jerking off motion" in all of its possible connotations (and there are many) is now "Dorne"; even more fitting because they couldn't even be bothered to give the city its actual name ("Sunspear", in case you didn't know or missed it the first time I ranted about it) and not because it's a phallic symbol.

The best moment of the entire episode was watching Thorne's expression from the top of the Wall as Jon and the Wildlings approached. That one moment of acting told us everything about the man, his opinions, his relationship with the new Lord Commander, and everything they'd been through together. It was brilliant and Owen Teale deserves every bit of praise for pulling it off. That moment was the only one of genuine tension in the episode, as we sat there wondering whether Thorne would let them back in or leave them to die at the hands of the Others. He would have been justified in doing so, given most of the Watch's antipathy toward their other hereditary enemies, the Wildlings. It would also have been convenient, given his and Jon's personal distaste for each other and his conviction that Jon's plan for the Watch is a bad one. That's storytelling. That's plot. That's character. That's real conflict. Thorne's acquiescence and commitment to duty was evident as we all crossed that hurdle together. None of that occurred in the entirety of the Dorne material for the season.

The other great moment of the episode was, of course, the subtle goodbye that Davos had with Shireen. In the end, when you're telling stories, whether it's a plot-driven epic like a Song of Ice and Fire or a character-driven tale like Tom Sawyer, the people involved need to be real. "Real" usually means "human", in that they act and feel in ways that the watchers or readers can relate to. It's something I'm hyper-conscious of because I've written a number of things where people acted in ways that were either rote or unnatural and those are always the stories that crash and burn. Watching Davos (Liam Cunningham) be torn between his affection for Shireen and his natural predilection toward doing what's right on the one hand, and the duty imposed on him by his king on the other, was excellent. Shireen's unknowing earnestness about their friendship was the crowning touch. Again: conflict, character, plot, story. It was all there. The rest of the episode largely lacked it and so has most of this season.

I mean, seriously, what was the point of killing Hizdahr here? What did it do for us? There's no longer any question of whether he was tied to the Sons of the Harpy, which is one of the more interesting plot points about the character, because he's dead. There's no longer any question about whether he was attaching himself to Dany for personal ambition or political motives or even genuine affection, because he's dead. Now we have to imagine that a bunch of outsiders, without the force of personality and dragons of their queen, and alongside the increasingly inept Unsullied, will somehow succeed without a single person in Meereen by their side? Good fiction occasionally does take leaps of logic (most people refer to them as "plot twists") but this one is going down a road that seems less likely by the minute. I'm not watching the series to see Daario do a Die Hard in the great pyramid of Meereen. I'm watching for a good story and, right now, I'm not getting it.

That complaint becomes even more acute when considering Arya's storyline, which is one of my favorites in the books and has been so for the last two seasons. Yet this episode's lengthy time in Braavos found her wandering after Meryn Trant and wheeling an oyster cart into one of the most expensive whorehouses in the city. Somehow no one stopped her at the door? Somehow an editor didn't look at this screenplay and say: "Perhaps wandering around with Arya while she wavers between murderous intent toward Trant and concern about that same intent toward the ship insurance guy without actually doing anything might be a little tedious?" It was at that moment that I wondered, with all of the increasingly obvious shortcuts they've been taking to keep the story under control, somehow they thought an episode full of no actual action by Arya was OK? Are we at the point where we have to consider the idea that D&D, largely unmoored from Martin's books, have lost their way? It's certainly starting to look that way.

Side notes:

Along that whole "leap of logic" thing, I found it especially unreasonable that Ramsay and his 20 picked men could have become so familiar with the layout of Stannis' camp that they would have been able to burn the food stores and the siege weapons and escape without being seen. Granted, doing it in the midst of a low-grade blizzard is a sure way to cover your tracks (literally) but trying to scout a camp of 6000, enter it, set enough fires to burn successfully, and leave in the midst of a low-grade blizzard isn't exactly likely.

Was I the only one kind of disappointed in the production value this season? It became pretty obvious that, for all the glory of the Water Gardens in Sunspear, they were essentially shooting the same room from different angles. That's a trick you have to do in order to control costs, but it was getting kind of tired by the end. Of course, that might be just because there was nothing actually happening. But it really hit me when Dany did the Great Drogon Escape at the end. Her riding on his back looked like nothing so much as the kid in the Neverending Story; a movie from 30 years ago with vastly inferior technology.

Lines of the week:

"You have a good heart, Jon Snow. It'll get us all killed."
Alliser Thorne, pragmatist.

"It's always changing. Who we're supposed to love and who we're not. The only thing that stays the same is who we want."
Ellaria making the case for modern sexual politics.

"What great thing has ever been accomplished without death and cruelty?"
"It's easy to confuse what is with what ought to be, especially when what is has worked in your favor."
And Tyrion chiming in with an easy statement about modern America.

Snowball

For the last two episodes, the greater amount of action has taken place in the North, perhaps to remind the audience that the basis of the story is a Song of Ice and Fire. The real threat is what the Starks have been saying for generations: Winter is coming. Leading the way just happens to be The Others, who have their first significant and lasting presence on-screen since the end of season 2, when Sam witnessed their advance on the Fist of the First Men at the head of a horde of undead (The nomenclature is about to become very difficult, since the dead are "walkers" in The Walking Dead and The Others have become the "White Walkers" in the GoT series.) Here our horde of undead is present, but so are not only the seeming priests or mages of the Others who raise the dead of Hardhome in front of Jon and Co., but also one badass warrior who moves in a way that icy guys generally don't in most fantasy tropes. Of course, neither do the undead. But we'll get to that.

In covering a fair amount of ground, Michael Sapochnik's direction is fairly clipped. Not only do we sprint around the globe while checking in on the various storylines, but we also do so in repeated snippets. While we could have easily done Cersei's scenes in one sequence (Qyburn comes in, followed by nun with the Ladle of Confession, Cersei laps the floor.) Instead, he broke that story into two scenes, along with the extended conversation between Tyrion and Dany. I think that technique is normally put to good use and, in fact, Martin does it regularly in the books and it frequently produces the same sensation that I got here: that of mild frustration that a Tyrion moment was ending and someone else was taking his place. I guess that's what keeps the reader reading and the viewers viewing, but this time it felt like no one was getting the space they really needed to tell their story, except for Jon and Tormund, which turned out to be the one extended scene of the episode and its close.

The one I especially wanted to see more of was, of course, Dany and Tyrion. Not only has this event not happened in the books, but it's been a long-awaited one and I think the two of them lived up to the occasion. Combining Dany's emotional impulsiveness but obvious intelligence with Tyrion's overflowing common sense about politics but neo-nihilism was bound to be a good mix. Now comes the time where two of the most obvious "good guys" end up facing the depredations of their respective authors (Martin and D&D.) Given the caterwauling over the way Sansa and the rest of the Starks have been treated, one can only imagine how loud it's going to get once the Imp and the Dragon Queen run into serious trouble on their quest to help the common people. Remember, we have two whole seasons to fill after this one.

In truth, as both a book reader and viewer who was relatively disappointed through the first half of this season, I've noticed in the past two weeks that my interest has hopped around in the same way this episode did. When I watch the Cersei scenes, they seem rote. Everything is proceeding in the same fashion as in the books and I'm OK shrugging my shoulders at it (in addition to the fact that those scenes are taking place inside a cell with a wholly predictable response by the character leading them.) OTOH, when events take place that weren't in the books, I'm kind of fascinated in a way that exceeds previous seasons. Before this, they were deviations, albeit ones that struck me as allowing the actors to really spread their wings. Now, they're new material that may be glimpses into what's developing in Winds of Winter (Yes. The Sansa rape scene may be in WoW. How many fans will give in to their outrage and stop reading the books as a consequence?) and/or are giving us insight that wasn't otherwise apparent, as with Hardhome.

In the books, the collecting of the Wildlings from Hardhome hasn't taken place, although Jon knows of the dire situation there (far moreso than what appears on camera.) Tormund is sent to retrieve them and that's the last we know to date. Tonight, we discover not only the presence of different kinds of Others, but also that there's another substance other than dragonglass that they're vulnerable to: Valyrian steel. In truth, this seems obvious. If the steel comes from the place where dragons once roamed the countryside ("Fire") then it makes sense that it has an effect on the opposite number ("Ice") and is more than just a version of Damascus steel in the world of Martin. All the same, I admit to being surprised when Jon's confrontation with the warrior Other ended the way it did, as I've had dragonglass stuck in my brain as the only effective thing for nigh-on 20 years now.

All that said, the sisters Stark also had fine moments, with Arya finally assuming her role as Oyster Girl (a kind of mashup of how her sequence played out in both Feast and Dance) and Sansa getting vicious with Reek and finally learning that she may not be the last surviving Stark, after all. In both cases, new worlds were opened to the sisters, albeit in drastically different ways. It feels as if they're setting up one of the epic moments of Feast in the way they're introducing Arya's progression, which can only be a good thing. By the same token, I have a hard time knowing what they're going to do with Sansa, since they've spent the latter half of the season kind of reinforcing the "there is no hope" mantra. Again, with Stannis on his way, things could change rapidly or, in some ways, veer back to the way things developed in Dance. As much as I said there aren't ways to spoil the story any longer, there really are, so I'll wait out the rest of the season to see if the snowball grows in the way I expect it to.

Side notes:

Iain Glen played his scene in the throne room with a very light touch, which I think is to his credit, as he could have emoted all over the floor at being cast out once again. Instead, he showed that Mormont resolution, took the Long Walk, and just found a way to get back in the queen's presence one more time. What he's going to do once he gets there is open to question. Meanwhile, the greyscale thing is still utterly superfluous to the story.

It's fair to say that Ramsay's seemingly rash decision to do a commando raid on Stannis in the snow is both exemplary of the character's nature in the books (and in the show) and also a pretty easy out for Sansa if things go poorly. In that respect, I find it hard to believe that they will, so the Helen Lovejoys may have to wait yet another season for the Boltons to get theirs.

All things considered, given the momentous happenings elsewhere, one of the best scenes of the night was the conversation between Sam and Olly about how to make your enemies your friends. It was an extremely heartfelt moment and there was a good rhythm with the way both Brenock O'Connor (Olly) and John Bradley (Sam) played it. I think it continues to add to Sam's character and prepares him for some of his upcoming changes.

Despite the thrilling events at Hardhome, I was a little perturbed at the appearance of the undead. First off, they were moving a lot faster than we've seen before. The shambling masses of the end scene of season 2 is the usual, despite the swiftness of the one creature that Jon waylaid at Mormont's door in season 1. Also, despite their ability to throw themselves off a cliff and resist grievous wounds and multiple arrows (as you'd expect from most things no longer animated by respiration), they did react in typical zombie fashion from time out of mind every time they were shot in the head (i.e. falling over like the magic bullseye had been hit.) I really, really hope that D&D haven't surrendered to that trope. Granted, not having an Achilles' forehead may make them ridiculously difficult to kill, having to do the Wunwun Stomp (new dance meme: Go!) or basically dismember them, but The Walking Dead has already (ahem) killed the "shoot them in the head" thing for basically all time.

Lines of the week:

"How can a man tell a girl this? If he knew what she would see, there would be no reason to send her."
This is both a reproving comment and a demonstration to Arya that she is now a key cog in the machine.

 "Hit first, hit hard, and leave a feast for the crows."
Title check!

"Men brawl from time to time. It's only natural."
When lies are the truth.

"Gather the elders and let's talk."
There's nothing particularly memorable about this except for the extreme beatdown of the Lord of Bones that accompanied it.

"My ancestors would spit on me if I broke bread with a Crow."

"So would mine, but fuck'em. They're dead."
Pragmatism, but if she only knew at that point...

Peter Dinklage and Emilia Clarke had excellent chemistry. As with the Varys and Littlefinger scenes, I could have watched the two of them volleying for another half hour. There were a number of great dialogue moments:

"Killing and politics aren't always the same thing."
and
"Someday, if you decide not to have me killed, I'll tell you all about why I killed my father. On that day, should it ever come, you'll need more wine than this."
and
"Why did you travel all this way to meet someone terrible?"
"To see if you were the right kind of terrible."
and
"If I want jokes, I'll get myself a proper fool."
If that last one was a sly reference to some of his scenes in the books, then well done.

But the winner had to be:

"Belief is so often the death of reason."
This man speaketh truth. The odd thing, of course, is that Qyburn was banished by the masters of reason in Westeros: the maesters.

Presents for the setup

As with previous seasons, the seventh episode (The Seven?) tends to be the setup episode for the end of the season. As of the end of tonight, the balls are pretty much all in motion and it remains to be seen what peaks will be reached in episode nine. Will it be Stannis' siege of Winterfell? Or the great games in Meereen? Or Jon and Tormund's encounter at Hardhome? Or all three?

The title of this episode was The Gift. It's clearly a nod to the meeting of Tyrion and Daenerys, but it's also easily extended to any of the other events that took place. The most obvious theme is that of the High Sparrow and his followers. In their eyes, they're merely extending the gift of the gods' justice, wisdom, and protection to the average people in the face of the depredation of the nobility. Of course, the way they'd see it, it's also a gift to the nobility, in order to rescue them from their lives of sin and eventual damnation. The faith has been waiting 300 years to throw off the dominance of the blood of the dragon and return the land of the Andal faith to the actual descendants of the Andals. Their chance has arrived and it will be the tools provided to them by the Queen Mother herself who gives the faith the control of the throne that it has always desired. Interestingly, the Sparrows feel that they are doing the same work as the Brotherhood without Banners: protecting the common people from being injured by the wars of the nobility. Of course, the Brotherhood under Lord Mallister carries the banner of the Lord of Fire, while the Sparrows are devotees of the Seven. Will it be the common people exchanging a war of houses for a war of faiths? Such a gift.

But the theme is also that of children. Many people choose to see them as a gift and I think the example of that and its complications was obvious throughout. From the passing of Aemon's life while he warned about the preservation of Little Sam to Jaime's frustration at being told the truth by the daughter he can't admit to having to Cersei's moment of true emotion when she told Tommen how important he was to her. These are emotions deeply rooted in not just the human impulse for survival (Aemon) but in the animal instinct for the preservation of one's young (Jaime and Cersei.) Aemon continues to think of the mission of the Watch and the preservation of the realm, but the parents think of the preservation of their blood and hoping that someone doesn't take that gift away from them, be it Trystane Martell and his scheming family or an army of religious fanatics. Stannis also steps into that parental role by finally revealing his waning faith in order to spare the life of his only child.

Strangely, the two scenes where that gift theme is most obvious- Tyrion and the prison scene with Bronn -are also the two scenes that seem to be the clumsiest in a story sense. While I get that Tyrion had to make contact with Dany this season (his path toward that goal in the books is far longer, far more convoluted, and nowhere near as distinct a desire on the part of Tyrion), bringing the queen of Meereen to a wilderness fighting pit outside the city is about as hackneyed a plot shortcut as D&D have ever delivered. There are a hundred different reasons, having little to do with the "traditions" of Hizdahr's family, why that's simply not a good idea (the Queen bothering to pay attention to lower fighters, the Sons of the Harpy, etc.) Even the mechanics of the scene played out poorly, as there was little reason for Dany to remain there to watch the butchery, "traditions" or no, and then even less for her to watch the masked warrior (Jorah) go through the process of beating everyone before revealing himself. The whole scene felt like a poor premise and just as poor execution. Granted, it stuck out as a budgetary and pacing necessity, as there was probably only enough money to do the great games once and it would be logistically difficult for Dany to recognize and receive Tyrion in those circumstances.

Likewise, why Tyene would bother to spare the life of an enemy in exchange for simple compliments is completely beyond me. They've already established that the Snakes all seem to have Obara's lust for and approach to enacting vengeance but also that Tyene was the one looking for Ellaria's approval. Are they presenting her as someone constantly looking for attention, such that she'd give some unnamed mercenary the gift of life just for saying that he appreciated her tits? And this only after the sexposition moment of her explaining that she'd not only envenomed him with the Long Farewell but obviously gotten it to speed up by getting his blood moving to the wrong places (for a prison cell)? I'm really lost here. The Snakes are kind of a fan favorite among book readers that has little to do with their actual impact on the story. So far in the show, they easily rank among the most misused characters and in a role that seems wholly superfluous. Are D&D using them simply because the Arianne storyline of the books was too much of a tangent and otherwise the Dorne scenes would be nothing but Doran scheming amidst his gout?

But, in the end, the greatest gift, of course, came from Littlefinger. In revealing what he knows about Cersei's sex life to Olenna, who then passed that knowledge to the High Sparrow, he not only reaffirms his alliance with the (currently) most powerful house in Westeros (They should change their words from "Growing Strong" to "Winter is coming... and we got the food.") but also removes the rogue element near the throne (Cersei) that engendered a greater threat to all of those in power and, for that matter, trashed his bordello. That's Petyr; always thinking ahead even while he gets revenge. Olenna's quote ("You've always been rather impressed with yourself, haven't you?") may be true, but few have more reason to be at this stage than Lord Baelish, the truest example of a relatively lowborn man rising to unmatchable heights.

Side notes:

I'm sure all of those still seething in frustration over the Ramsay/Sansa storyline must have been mildly apoplectic after watching Reek betray everyone else in favor of his torturer yet again. That Hollywood ending isn't getting here anytime soon. Sophie Turner does it again, though. That moment where she tried to shake Reek back to being Theon was gripping, even if it is a fair question that, given the weather, how a candle would stay lit in the Broken Tower.

Likewise, John Bradley's performance in the attempted rape scene with Gilly was really superb. The monotone voice while he warned them when he rose to his feet was excellent. OTOH, the appearance of Ghost, while welcome, was rather jarring. Ghost's owner and other self, Jon, has just set out on a dangerous mission to the far side of the Wall. Why in the world is Ghost still in Castle Black? Of the few complaints I've had about the series, the use of the wolves is one of them. Working with the animals is extremely difficult and time consuming, so it's at least partially understandable, but the bizarre changes to Ghost's role and presence seem to be annulling one of the key points of the book and an important aspect of Jon's character and his time at Castle Black.

While arming himself, Jorah reveals that he's still wearing his family ring. There's no way any slaver would let someone being sold on the block retain that kind of value. That said, the expression on the slaver captain's face when Tyrion finishes beating his restrainer was fantastic. "See what I'm offering? This dwarf kicks ass!"

You're going to get tired of me saying two things this season: 1) Jonathan Pryce is killing it as the High Sparrow and 2) Where the hell is Alexander Siddiq (Prince Doran)?

Lines of the week:

"I believe this mission to be reckless, foolhardy, and an insult to all the brothers who've died fighting the Wildlings."
"As always, thank you for your honesty."
The way Jon just continues to shut down Ser Alliser never fails to entertain.

"Your name is Theon Greyjoy."
It almost looked like Sansa broke through there for a second but, no...

"This is the right time and I will risk everything."
Even the devotion of the red priestess, apparently.

"Oh! Oh, my!"
Sam's moment when Gilly finally gives him the business was great.

The scene with Lady Olenna and the High Sparrow had a few:
"Don't spar with me, little fellow."
I've gone out of my way to find other Diana Rigg films just because of how great she is in this role.

"The people always do the dirty work."
Fer reals.

"A lifetime of wealth and power has left you blind in one eye. You are the few. We are the many."
Heard this one before, too.

"I'm sorry about the locale."
"No, you're not."
Seriously. She's so good.

"Lies come easily to you. Everyone knows that. But innocence, decency, concern? You're not very good at those, I'm afraid."
Margaery with the brutal truth before the ravens finally come home to roost.

And the winner:

"All rulers are either butchers or meat."
Daario with the sage advice.

So, about that rape scene

We’ve been here before , of course, since I wrote one of these last season after the Cersei/Jaime rather awkward moments next to the corpse of their son that no one is supposed to know is their son (Can you imagine the Thanksgivings? “So, what have you two been doing lately...?”) But we’re back here again because of the most obvious scene that everyone in the world knew was coming: Sansa’s wedding night to Ramsay Bolton.

Now, I say everyone knew it was coming because unless you just started watching the show this year, you know that neither George R. R. Martin nor David Benioff and Dan Weiss shy away from the brutality that is often the existence of women in Westeros. Even moreso, no one who wasn’t just introduced to the show can be ignorant of the activities and predilections of one Ramsay Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort and Winterfell. Furthermore, it’d be really hard to have missed all of the times where Sansa’s virtue might have been besmirched but which she just narrowly escaped, thanks to Joffrey being distracted or the Hound not willing to see one more crime of the system (known in the books as the “Little Bird” storyline) or Tyrion deciding that he’s not going to play the game that his father has set before him. In all honesty, if Reek had decided to become Theon again and bashed Ramsay’s head in and saved Sansa, I would have felt kind of cheated. That would have been way too Hollywood for the story as it’s been built over the last 20 years, which has been anything but. (This is putting aside the fact that Reek returning to being Theon would not exactly be the best thing for most women in a compromised position, ifyaknowwhatImean.)

“Mind if I help you with your saltwife, landlubber?!”

So, no. There was never going to be a Hollywood moment. Sansa was doomed to this treatment from the moment she agreed to Petyr’s plan. You knew it. I knew it. Everyone with any sense of the story knew it.

All of that said, there’s no denying that the scene was both powerful and disturbing. First off, it was rape. Secondly, it was the rape of a character who has become a byword for virtue and gentleness in a world largely devoid of both. Thirdly, it was used for dramatic effect not just to show the audience what Sansa had signed up for, but also to further pave Theon’s road to hell. As I said yesterday, Alfie Allen’s performance has been remarkable and watching him twist in the wind while a girl he had grown up with was being violated right in front of him was a profoundly dramatic thing, which is precisely the point. The counter-argument, of course, is that it feeds the idea of objectification of women not just in the story, but in a deeper dramatic sense, since the point of that last close-up was to use Sansa’s pain and anguish as a tool to develop Reek’s character. Not Sansa, but Reek. She was off-screen. The impact that was focused on was to him, even though the actual assault was happening to her. So the questions become: 1. Was it gratuitous and, thus, unnecessary? and 2. Would it have been better to show the assault, rather than view it through the eyes of a male witness?

On #1: I don’t think so. No one has suggested that D&D do anything just for zazz. Even the fabled sexposition tended to serve a dual purpose: both to show conversation and to display the fact that, uh, sex happens in life; something that GRRM has been fully in favor of because it’s true and a lot of sex does happen in the books, as well. So anyone suggesting that D&D are engaging in gratuitous brutality is someone who hasn’t really paid attention. Now, no one needs to be reminded on a regular basis that rape also happens, but in a show where the Stark role has essentially been to be ground to a nub (if they survive), endure, and come through the other size without the deus ex machina of the prince riding in on his white horse, this scene was perfectly in line with what has come before.

On #2: I do think that they dropped the ball somewhat by allowing that focus to move to Reek, rather than keeping it on Sansa. Speculating on a motive leaves me thinking that their intent may have been to soften the blow, in that people knew (or should have known) she was going to be assaulted and, in an effort to temper a scene that was going to be awful for most of the audience, they decided to move it off-camera. That, of course, only made it worse for a number of people who feel that it’s not bad enough that Sansa was raped, but that her reaction to the violation wasn’t even good enough to be shown and, instead, we got Theon. There can be no 'right' way to show rape, so it was going to be questioned and complained about, regardless.

It was mentioned on the board that at least one person has given up on the show, in part because of that scene but also because she was frustrated that Ramsay has continued on his merry way with essentially no repercussions. Putting aside the fact that that kind of thing happens all the time in Westeros and in our own world (Goldman Sachs, anyone? How about a little national service?), there typically aren’t dramatic stories without some kind of karmic payback for characters like Ramsay. In that sense, the whole scene could be a little bit of the long con, as it were. In other words, Sansa knows that this is what was going to happen and has prepared herself for it in order to lay the groundwork for the re-taking of Winterfell and the North. The fact that she has to endure it is just another day in life as a Stark.

That being said, there's also nothing that says that fans (or former fans) of the show need to watch what's no longer entertaining to them. However, I'm willing to bet that most of them know that Ramsay will likely get his at some point ("The North remembers.") But I think the more important topic is whether it's important for the writers/showrunners/directors to be true to their vision of the story, regardless of how offensive it might be to the audience.

I wrote a story for a class when I was at Michigan that was, shall we say, highly racially charged. I wanted the lead character to be a racist and be easily recognized as such. I wanted to make him despicable in that respect to see if it was possible to make him seem redeemable by the end of it. That point, of course, was lost in the chorus of dismay from most of my classmates who objected to the theme of the story to begin with. They didn't even stop to consider why this character might be worthwhile if he was able to pierce the veneer of that racism or whether that was such an essential part of his being that he wasn't worth the effort. The overt language of the story was enough to put most of them past the point of even trying to finish it. The TA asked if I wanted to reconsider and I said "No.", because that was my story and I felt it was worth consideration, not just for the writing, but for the idea that I thought was important to assess.

This is where D&D are now with Sansa. Clearly, the assault was important to the ideas and plot that they're trying to convey to the audience. There's plenty that's already fairly shocking about Game of Thrones, such that tossing this extra log on the fire would be gratuitous if that was their intent. But I feel pretty safe in assuming that it's not and the point that they're trying to get across with that scene is not shock value or the role of women in Westeros or the fact that Ramsay is P for 'psycho'. Instead, I think there's something integral to Sansa's experience and future that that scene is establishing, even if it's something as simple as finally giving her the taste of fire that she's narrowly escaped so many times before that will finally forge her into the steel that's needed to retake the North. If people are repelled by it, well, good. They should be. But it doesn't mean that the scene was unnecessary or casually dismissive about the act and its ramifications. On the contrary, it just might be essential to bring that wing of the story home, as much as people (especially the professional offense-takers) may not want to see it.

The lies come easily

When I read that this week's episode was entitled "Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken.", which are the words of House Martell, I was excited, as I'm fond of that storyline in the books and it meant more time with Alexander Siddiq on camera (as well as Bronn and Jaime.) Then, when I saw the credits and noticed that it was going to be another Cogman screenplay, I rolled my eyes. As I mentioned last time, I've rapidly become disenchanted with his approach to the story. However, I may have changed my opinion with this latest offering as there were several momentous events and advancements of both character and storyline that played quite well, even if the overall theme of the episode had basically nothing to do with the Dornish slogan which screams open defiance. Instead, the theme was how easy it is for lies to propel the social interactions that we accommodate every day and how small lies become larger ones until we become different people, just as Jaqen explained to Arya.

Arya has always been one of the more forthright characters of the story. She thinks a thought and she explains it to you, usually without varnish or nuance. It's that kind of linear approach that leaves her completely unsuitable for playing the game of thrones and something which she recognized and internalized a long time ago when it was clear that she wasn't interested in sewing or any of the "ladylike" endeavors that embodied the lives of young, noble women. The fact that she has left that game and is on the path to becoming a Faceless Man is just the most obvious manifestation of that life choice made at a very young age. However, as Jaqen attempted to point out, even though she's left the game that involves the lives of thousands, she still plays the human game; the game of faces, in which information is shaded or exaggerated to produce a result that is good for the speaker but is also often good for the listener. In the case of the House of Black and White, it's a matter of providing a comforting story for those whose lives are about to end. Out in the world, it's a matter of convincing people that they're getting what they want so that the speaker also gets what he or she wants.

Nowhere was that more evident than in Jorah and Tyrion's exchange with the slavers who were convinced not to discard the dwarf as mere trash, at least in part based on verifying whether he was hung like a horse. Convincing them that Jorah was a worthy warrior for the pits isn't too much of a stretch. Convincing them to take you as a slave because you need to be present to confirm the magical powers of your johnson to the first eager buyer is a bit more fanciful. Still, that's the game you play sometime to save your as- uh, cock. Or neck, really. The amusing thing in Tyrion's case is that he's spent his entire life using his brain to convince people that he was more than his stature might imply. This is probably the first time he's had to use it to convince others that his being a dwarf was a thing of value (literally) and that's why they shouldn't discard him as worth less than the usual human would bring on the slave block. As an aside, the early scene with the two of them, where Jorah learns of the death of his father, was probably the best moment that Iain Glen has had in many episodes because it shifted his tragic course for just a moment back to remembering what he'd lost in Westeros, rather than the doomed endeavor in Essos. The cascade of emotion across his face (as much as he still tried to play the game by pretending to be less affected than he truly was) was very poignant and a good reminder about how events in this world continue to have ramifications long after they occur.

Oh, man. Was that a segué or was that a segué? Wait... what do you mean loosing an army of religious fanatics might have unintended consequences? Everything's going according to plan, with Cersei removing not only her intended husband but also his sister, the Queen Rival, and putting one over on Olenna Tyrell, of all people. No one plays the game of obvious lies better than Cersei Lannister and yet, it's often pointless to try to confront her with them because of the power she's managed to still maintain over the boy kings. Joffrey escaped her control while she told lies for him. Tommen remains under her thumb while she tells lies to him. In the end, the results are the same and will likely remain so until they're not just happy, open lies anymore. As we've all seen, the High Sparrow (Jonathan Pryce, who is killing it in his simple, straightforward way) doesn't take kindly to those who lie to the gods, even queens (Mothers or otherwise.)

Again, in contrast to last week, there were a number of good scenes with high tension attached:

- Petyr's confrontation with Lancel in the streets. It's never been more evident that Littlefinger rolls with the punches better than anyone. In his case, it's often because he delivers the simple truths even better than the lies.

- Arya's first experience as the comfort giver in the House. Given the stick thrashing she'd been given in the previous scene for lying, there was some question as to whether Jaqen or the girl would emerge to tell her she'd violated yet another custom and played the game poorly. Instead, she took the next step toward assuming the face of another.

- The test of wills between Olenna and Cersei. Most of us were probably waiting for the other shoe to drop when the Queen of Thorns would let Cersei paint herself into a corner and then show her that there was no way out. Instead, Cersei kept control the entire time and Olenna had to leave, completely neutered.

- And, of course, the wedding scene in the godswood of Winterfell and the subsequent consummation. Sansa played the game in the bathtub, turning the tables on Miranda even though she was fairly terrified by what was being said. Once she got into the bedroom, the game was gone and she and Reek had to confront the reality of Ramsay's game, which goes well beyond social interaction and into savagery, lies or no lies. (As another aside: Has there been a better performance over the last season-and-a-half than Alfie Allen? Tonight's final closeup of his anguished face while he watched the rape of Sansa was masterful.)

All of which makes the Dorne material pretty subpar, to say the least. Again, their house words were the title of this episode, but the far more interesting events took place outside of it. The few seconds we spent with Doran were boilerplate and the "moment of action" (which now seems requisite in every episode in the same way sexposition used to be; we need a better phrase for it, though) was kind of dreadfully obvious. The editing of the bullwhip scenes was choppy, as they maintained the same shot but simply cut from the whip wrapping to it doing something else (for the safety of the performers involved, of course, but change perspective if you're doing that) and it was clear from the beginning that the actors playing the Sand Snakes didn't have nearly as much time in battle choreography as people like Jerome Flynn (Bronn) and Nikolas Coster-Waldau (Jaime.) The shots were very staged, with little motion happening in the background, and the movements were quite stiff and lacked the fluidity that has been seen in many of the battles (such as those in Meereen this season.) That's not the fault of the actors, of course, and there's often only so much you can do with the limited shooting time, but after ignoring Dorne for a couple weeks, we finally return only to get next to nothing from any of the performers involved, including Areo Hotah, who assures Doran in one moment that he hasn't forgotten how to use his axe and then takes another moment to look like he's swinging a two-by-four at Jaime's neck that he can barely control. Did the director play the game with us?

Side notes:

I thought the opening scene was very effective, as the view of the simple work of preparing the corpses kind of set the tone for how things normally function in the House of Black and White. It was well-paced and brought a very realistic tone to what is happening in Braavos. In many ways, that location is easily the most interesting of any of the cities in the story, given the mass conglomeration of cultures that the original slaves brought to the city and continue to encourage. It reminds me of many similar places that have produced great stories, like Cynosure and Lankhmar.

The question of the show's use of rape will probably come up again. It was very pointed in the Jaime/Cersei scene last season because of the nature of the changes that Jaime had undergone (he'd actually gathered a fan following) and the fact that they still associated with each other after that. In this case, Ramsay and Sansa are going to associate with each other (much to her chagrin) but the circumstances are different because their wedding night turned out exactly as most in the audience could have predicted. The fact that it finally happened to the show's eternal victim is both emblematic of the fact that women remain property in most of Westeros and demonstrative of how no amount of game-playing can change certain social factors. You usually need a different kind of violence for that.

Again, several moments took place that were not true to the books (among them Olenna's confrontation with Cersei, Sansa's wedding night, even Arya's trip into the crypts, although we're still playing up to the point where she's progressed in Dance with Dragons.) But, other than the Olenna scene, we're also looking at stuff that will probably occur in Winds. As opposed to earlier stuff this season, I think all of those "new" scenes were actually quite effective and seemed to fit well into Martin's overall scheme.

Lines of the week:

"I'm not playing this stupid game anymore!"
"We never stop playing."
There's truth for both Faceless Men and people, in general.

"A girl is not ready to become no one. But she is ready to become someone else."
I think that's been true for a while.

"You ever heard baby dragons singing?"
"No."
"It's hard to be a cynic after that."
Magic is not proof of religion, nor vice-versa.

"The Targaryens are famously insane."
and
"So a woman who hasn't spent a single moment of her adult life in Westeros becomes the ruler of Westeros? That's justice?"
Tyrion breaking down Jorah's perspective on how Dany was supposed to take over was excellent and made one wonder why he hasn't said this before. It was more reminiscent of the Hound's take on the system as a whole than anything else. Of course, you can ask the same things about our blinded-by-tradition government, as well. Living in the past...

"You can't just hand a dried cock to a merchant and expect him to pay for it! He has to know it came from a dwarf!"
This is bargaining to the nth degree. The lies come easily.

Petyr with a host this time:
With Lancel: "We both have our fantasies, Brother Lancel. Mine just happen to be entertaining."
 With Cersei: "One's choice of companion is a curious thing." Ahem.
"As I said: I live to serve." (As my girlfriend noted: "Yeah. Serve himself.")

"Why are you still a virgin? Afraid of dwarves?"
There's a Snow White porn softball floating right over the plate...

And the winner:

"It'll be a dwarf-sized cock!"
"Think again!"