Back to reality

Much of this season has been dominated by an overarching theme: the search for truth. Whether it be a personal search like Arya's, wherein she came to terms with the reality of who she was and would always be, or a broader truth like Cersei's, wherein she slowly constructed answers to everything that plagued her in her quest for control of her own life and, subsequently, the kingdom, the confrontation with reality has been dominant. I look back on my offhand titles for posts in season 6 and see: "Sometimes it's out of your (cold)hands", "Stuff you don't like to do", and "You can't escape who you are." These are all examples of confrontation with the circumstances around the sprawling cast that they either overcame or simply expected (sometimes both.) Fittingly, the season finale would be one long testament to all of that.

In most of the cases presented, the reality confronted would be a political one. From Dany severing her relationship with Daario (and still lying to him about how no one tells her what to do, when he was right that it was Tyrion's idea) for the sake of Westerosi allies to Lyanna Mormont grilling every other lord in the room for forsaking their oaths to House Stark, the truths in question were all about who rules or will rule and how. That is, of course, the great game that Tyrion spoke of and the reason for the show in the first place. Establishing that not only does a reality exist but that people had best be ready to deal with it was never more apparent than when Margaery finally dropped the facade and told the High Sparrow just where he could get off if he knew what was good for him. In the end, there's some validity to the idea that his expression said everything that he thought about that reality. While he feared death as he stated a couple episodes ago, he feared returning to subservience to the noble masters moreso. Why not go down and take as many of them with you as you can? Unfortunately for him, all he really did was exterminate the line of House Tyrell (in the show, anyway) but it was a nice example of someone refusing to accept the hand that fate had dealt them and instead shaping their loss in the game to something that was at least palatable for the few seconds prior to incineration. (Tangent: Did you notice that he finally put on a clean robe for the ceremony of the trial? Money and station lead to vanity for everyone, at some point.) Similarly, the Late Lord Frey received his comeuppance in two ways, with Jaime putting him in his place as nothing more than a tool of the greater houses and Arya's final stroke of vengeance for the Red Wedding. Unfortunately for Lord Frey (and the brilliant David Bradley), sometimes you get out of life what you've put into it and Walder Frey was usually nothing more than bitter.

Interestingly, the greatest political realist of them all, Littlefinger, not only laid bare his primary motivation to Sansa but also spent much of the episode (until the last few minutes) in one of the worst situations he'd been in since Cersei demonstrated to him the true meaning of power. One got the impression that he'd played all of his cards and was expecting his arrival with the Knights of the Vale to be the masterstroke in sweeping Catelyn's daughter into his arms and securing his hold on both the North and the Vale and, with the chaos sweeping the south, finally the Iron Throne. But it could never be that simple and Sansa ensured it, as she continued to demonstrate how sure a grasp of the game she now possesses, having learned much at the master's feet (and having noticed his lack of enthusiasm for the new King in the North; that passing glance between the two shows that she's well aware of how much of a threat he still is.) Similarly, the Queen of Thorns, confronted with the loss of her entire line, found herself negotiating with a bastard paramour in Sunspear (Yes. Sunspear. (I'll never forget. (The book readers remember!))) for an alliance that most Tyrells would have considered borderline unholy. Canny political operators or no, at some point you realize when the ground has shifted under your feet (perhaps because of a stockpile of explosives...?) and make adjustments. That, too, is confronting the truth, not of what has been but what is now. In the end, both Petyr Baelish and Olenna Redwyne do the smart thing and roll with the punches.

Likewise, Cersei's adaptation to her reality is a mark of someone both determined to control her own destiny (which is what she's been trying to do since she was young) and someone beginning to embrace the fact that the prophecy about her life was and remains totally beyond her control. Her children are now all dead. If the witch was right, her reign will be short and her brother will be the one who ends it. But since she's finally assumed the role she's felt was hers from birth, master of all she surveys (and the multiple skyline gazes before the destruction of the Sept of Baelor were great touches), it's clear that she's determined to accomplish as much as she can before the witch's prediction comes true. This is one step beyond accepting what's happening around oneself and, instead, being acutely aware of how all of this is going to end and going ahead and doing it, anyway.

The rest of the finale was setup for next season, as we've now not only passed the point where the show has departed the books (excepting Sam's arrival in Oldtown, which seems to be the one storyline that is seriously lagging behind the others; not those Others...) but we're hurtling headlong into the new reality: the great war between the Ice and the Fire. That war will apparently include Bran Stark, who's returning from the far north for reasons unknown. Since he can be anywhere in Westeros (and Westerosi time), is it safer to him to come south? That's one of the questions for next season. Another is how the Queenswar will emerge between Dany and Cersei and to which queen will the major houses become or remain loyal? And, of course, the big question that most book readers have had for almost 20 years: Will Jon's Targaryen heritage become a factor in his role as leader of the North?

Side notes:

A few technical complaints: How exactly does one feed three massive dragons on a long voyage across the sea? When they were a lot smaller, they could dive for fish. At this point, unless they're diving for sperm whales, it's not going to work. Also, Varys' trip to Sunspear (to bring the book plot of his machinations full circle, finally) and back to Meereen for the launch was awfully quick. It also took a lot of the poignancy out of his and Tyrion's goodbye scene just one episode before. Wouldn't it have been more appropriate to have them meet somewhere in Westeros (if at all)? Also also, Benjen's presence in this season was a complete non-factor, other than as a vehicle for the escape of Bran and Meera. I can only imagine Joseph Mawle being told that he's being brought back for the first time in five years so he can get all of five minutes of screen time, while he describes how he'd done all this stuff off-screen before exiting stage left again. They might as well have just done something simpler, like Bran getting rescued by a flock of ravens or something. Finally, I found the apparent conclusion of the High Sparrow's storyline a bit too convenient. Cersei mentions "all of his little soldiers" but it seems unlikely that all of the Faith Militant were present at the trial, which means that there should still be a horde of religious fanatics running around the kingdoms and causing trouble for the other players, but perhaps that was D&D cutting to the chase and leaving the Great War between the two major players (and, thus, discarding the little people to their fate, just as the great houses always have; elitist directors?)

In that respect, while I appreciate the intent behind Arya's appearance at the Twins and the serving of the cold Frey pie to Lord Walder, it struck me as overly convenient and very obvious fan service. Similarly to Littlefinger, it wouldn't have surprised me if Frey had outlasted all the other game players but was finally put back to just ruling his little river crossing by the eventual winners. While I get that most of the fanbase was eager to see some measure of payback for the Red Wedding, that struck me as a bit too tit-for-tat. Also, would Lord Walder Frey really use the nickname that others had applied to his fourth son, "Black Walder"? I suppose it was necessary for the TV audience to not hear him simply described as "Walder", but I'm willing to bet that 95% of the audience wouldn't have been able to identify "Black Walder", either.

Is there anyone in the show more entertaining than Bella Ramsey as Lyanna Mormont? Seriously, that kid is amazing. A close second would be Carice Van Houten as Melisandre. Her inner conflict with her faith has been one of the more fascinating things to watch this season and it played out yet again in the finale, as she continued to insist that, despite her failures and her inability to predict the whims of the Lord of Light, they were in as good a situation as they could expect solely because of the power of her god. This is the true article of faith: to insist that everything, no matter how great or terrible, must have happened because of the blind adherence to the grace of an unknowable being. Children were burned alive to make things better and that didn't make things better, but things are only as good as they are now because children were burned alive. See how easy? Van Houten has made Melisandre's inner struggle and continued devotion evident with every expression.

Similarly, there were a couple great performances tonight in very simple terms, where the actor had to convey deep feeling with nothing more than an expression. Dany's plaintive look at Daario as she turned him away was one of Clarke's best moments of the season, while Tyrion's look of genuine emotion at being named Hand of the Queen was also Dinklage's. Also, credit to the young actors portraying Qyburn's little birds. When I watched them carrying out his plans and waylaying Lancel in the wildfire basement, all I could think of was Village of the Damned. Great stuff.

Did anyone else feel mildly cheated with Lyanna whispering the reality of Jon's parentage to Young Eddard? I mean, we got the message with the baby to man transition shot and perhaps D&D were trying to reduce the potential melodrama of the long-awaited moment... but then why call more attention to it by not letting us hear that she loved Rhaegar and this was his child?

On that note, I've only mentioned Ramin Djawadi's contributions once or twice in all the years I've been doing this, but his choice of score was really excellent tonight. The thoughtful piano solo serving as the backdrop to the entire trial sequence and its consequences was brilliant, from the tense gathering as people filled the Sept to the final moment where Tommen decided that the reins of power were too heavy for him to hold. Finding the right music to represent a scene is an art in and of itself and he's been as much a part of the show's success as anyone else involved.

Lines of the night:

"This is Ser Gregor Clegane. He's quiet, too."
There are few things as entertaining as watching Cersei gloat over a situation that she's in total control of.

"You just sit there, a rich slab of beef, and all the birds come pecking."

and

"Not my type."
"Not blonde enough?"
Bronn, always reliable for a Kelso.

"Can't go killing my son-by-law. Wouldn't be right. Give the family a bad name."
Really, David Bradley has been just great. I'm sorry to see him go.

"I didn't lie. I was wrong."
I'll take 'Words no current GOP congressman would ever utter' for $200, Alex.

"Only a fool would trust Littlefinger."
The wisest thing Sansa's ever said.

"Survival is not what I'm after now."
The Queen of Thorns and the dish served cold.

"So, that's what you want? To be my mistress?"
Hey, I've known a couple guys that would love that role.

"The only people who aren't afraid of failure are madmen like your father."
Insanity can be defined as an overdose of confidence, one supposes.

"Forgive me, my lady, if you're at prayer."
"I'm done with all that."
Illusions left behind, there is now only the game.

And since it's the finale, two winners:

"Winter is here."
"Well, father always promised, didn't he?"
The tagline...

"You'll get that throne you want so badly, I'm sure of it. I hope it makes you happy."
... and the reality.

A little bit of the old ultraviolence

For most of the series, the 9th episode has been the big battle scene of one kind or another, whether it was a domestic dispute or something more explosive. "The Battle of the Bastards" was no different in that respect, but it was still somewhat different in that much of it was taken up by a depiction of the brutality of warfare, rather than genuinely heroic or shocking or even interesting events. In truth, I actually found the earlier battle in the harbor of Meereen to be much more interesting, since it was the first extended action we've seen of the dragons as a group since the famous "Dracarys" scene and the first we've seen of them, collectively, in their adult forms. That's not to say that the battle in the North was done poorly but I've mentioned before how tired I've grown of the close-up angle that gives audiences the "real-time" experience, but also often leaves them asking what happened instead of remarking on what did happen. There was plenty of that tonight.

Don't get me wrong. I'm all about the depiction of battle in as messy and chaotic a form as it often is. To quote a noted Confederate general: "It is a good thing that war is so terrible. Otherwise, we should grow too fond of it." The modern film that is most noted for introducing the concept that war is, indeed, hell (to paraphrase one of the aforementioned's Union counterparts) is Braveheart and the main battle of this episode borrowed heavily from the (woefully inaccurate) Battle of Stirling Bridge and (almost equally so) Battle of Falkirk in said film. We have the infantry charge, the cavalry response, the indiscriminate arrow volleys into the combined forces, and even the attempt to pursue the fleeing commander from the field. I don't know that Martin has this scene planned in the same way (or if it's even planned), but it seemed fairly obvious that D&D were at least drawing inspiration from the way the battles in Braveheart had been staged. And, given that so much of the episode was taken up by said fight, there's not much of a theme to follow other than the title I've given this review.

Interestingly, though, if you'll indulge the historical geek for a moment. I jotted down a note when Jon mentions in the planning tent that Ramsay has to fight because otherwise the houses of the North would lose faith in him. That note was: "This is Rome and Carthage." Hannibal's campaign in the Second Punic War was meant to draw the other cities on the Italian peninsula away from Rome in the same manner, by beating them in the field when Rome felt their clients might waver. As soon as I typed that, Jon began talking about avoiding a "double envelopment", which is exactly how Hannibal won the Battle of Cannae, the most significant defeat for the Romans in that war (and which led to them waiting to train an entirely new generation of legionaries before they took the field in standard formation again, fighting a pseudo-guerrilla campaign all the while. You think Westerosi are dedicated to war? You have no idea.) But as a contrast, the Boltons actually engaged in hoplite tactics (shield wall crushing the opponent back with long spears (sarissa)) when they encircled Jon's forces, rather than the more flexible approach of Roman legionary tactics. Here endeth the geek lesson.

Why am I going on about all of this history? Because it represented the most interesting part of a long sequence that probably could have been wrapped up a bit sooner except that, again, this was episode 9 and, thus, required the big fight. But, again, I'd have been a lot happier with more of the big lizards doing the Greek fire thing (Byzantines; more history, sorry) to a bunch of ships loaded with pitch than watching the "chaos of battle" bit on the northern heath because I felt like I'd seen it before. Yes, this was a culmination of several storylines (including Rickon's basically absent story) and accompanying impact was necessary, but I guess I was expecting a bit more. Or perhaps a bit less repeating of history, cinematic and otherwise. All of that said, there was some decent drama in the scene where Jon was being buried alive by other corpses. That drama was defused by the fact that there's no way they'd kill Jon again at this point so, in the end, it was just a matter of getting to the conclusion.

.
The fact that that conclusion was entirely bittersweet is just exemplary of what life is like for the Starks. They reclaimed the ancestral home, but lost the last direct male heir (Bran is not coming back, folks.) They crushed the Boltons and finally ended the menace that was Ramsay, but they had to get back in the debt of Littlefinger to do it. Life is full of tough choices and this was just the most prominent series of them. On the other hand, Daenerys didn't have to struggle too much with her choices, since it gained her a fleet, expanded her forces (I've heard the Ironborn are pretty good fighters...), and maybe even got her a date with the next Seastone queen. Life is good. She also needed Tirion to talk her out of a plan of depredation that was every bit as destructive as anything Ramsay Bolton might ever have done, so there's no telling what the urge for vengeance might do to anyone; even the most ethical of tyrants.

In that respect, you can see some of what Davos was talking about in his discussion with Tormund: this is still the game of thrones. The small people like a former smuggler and a Wildling leader are just caught up in it, usually to their detriment, if not death. Watching Sansa walk away with a little smile as Ramsay was torn to shreds by his own dogs is exemplary of that urge for vengeance. It's also potentially a warning that even the most innocent and ethical person among all those involved in the game might be pushed far enough to commit an act of savagery; exchanging one tyrant for a potential other, as it were. In the end, everyone is subject to the old ultraviolence whether they're going to get something good out of it or not.

Side notes:

From a technical standpoint, I thought there were a couple hiccups. As noted, the "up close and personal" battle stuff has become tiresome. I much preferred last season's episode 9 fight where it was still done in "real time", but also showed the whole battle so the audience could follow events as they went along. Similarly, the contrast between the dragons burning the fleet and the negotiation scene in Meereen was pretty stark. It felt very much like those sequences were kind of spliced together, as I didn't get a feel for any connection between the two completely disparate scenes. I'm not sure if the cuts from the action over the bay to the hill above were too abrupt or what exactly struck me as odd, but it was the most prominent scene I can recall of the actors looking very much like they were standing in front of a greenscreen, rather than part of the setting.

I kept waiting throughout the battle for the Smalljon to turn on Ramsay. As a book reader, knowing the contempt that House Umber holds for House Bolton makes it difficult to swallow that alliance. The Karstarks are understandable, but the Umbers aren't. Show watchers have no such hang-up, so the whole Rickon sequence this season probably played better to them. In the end, it was obvious that Sansa's letter to Littlefinger from a couple episodes ago was going to be the key moment in the battle, but part of me continued to say "Really?" as the Smalljon urged his men forward.

I continue to be impressed with Carice van Houten's portrayal of the lapsed Red Priestess, Melisandre. Despite her obvious cynicism, she's so programmed with the dogma that she persists in citing the will of the Lord of Light even as she disdains his unknowable nature and motivation. ("What kind of god would do that?" "This one.") Any religious leader will tell you that it's natural to doubt, but her attitude goes beyond that right now. Continuing to believe in Jon as the latest "one who was promised" seems to be her clinging to something to keep her moving forward, rather than being sure that she is bringing the Red God's prophecy to fruition. That's good character stuff.

Likewise, Sansa and Jon arguing over the truth ("We have to do this!" "We're not capable of doing this!") is like any diplomatic planning room I've ever seen. You acknowledge what you can and can't do and then you move on with what you want to do. Jon paraphrasing Donald Rumsfeld for the second episode in a row ("You fight with the army you have!") continued to be funny.

On a diplomatic/political note, D&D have introduced something that GRRM won't have to face: a second cultural transformation for Dany. She's already instituted one in Slavers' Bay and reinforced it by slaughtering the forces that Astapor and Yunkai sent against her. But now her alliance with the Greyjoys rests on the idea of the Ironborn giving up their Viking ways and becoming... what? Merchants? Farmers? Fishermen? That's a bit like declaring Jim Crow illegal and expecting the culture to change overnight. The Vikings eventually changed because they became landed gentry in other lands and the increased trade meant that raiding other places (and better defended places) was no longer so enticing or necessary. Telling everyone on the Islands that they now serve the Dragon Queen and she's declared that everything has to change and right now is more than a bit unrealistic. That's not to say that aiming high isn't something that Dany has done before, but doing it again? Eh.

Finally, at some point you have to imagine that Jon will stop doing everything his id tells him to, right? I mean, even after Sansa warns him repeatedly about Ramsay's head games, Jon dives right in and leads his army to the slaughter. This is the guy that's Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and a potential heir to Winterfell (and other... things...) and yet, if you piss him off, you can get him to dance on a string better than any marionette ever made. I really think they've overplayed that for the last time, especially since it almost killed him for the second time in his life. Putting the mechanical rabbit in front of the greyhound is only interesting the first couple times you do it.

Also, what's with the conquistador helmets on the Boltons? Intentional historical allegory or just something that they thought worked visually? I found them to be jarring.

Lines of the week:

"Despite appearances, I think you'll find the city's on the rise."
This is like public pronouncements of how good the economy is doing because some rich guy made a killing on derivatives.

"Will your men want to fight for you when they hear you wouldn't fight for them?"
That was the one moment when you thought Jon might be able to bait Ramsay and another reason that the Umbers continuing to follow the latter seems unlikely.

"Maybe that was our mistake: believin' in kings."
Davos, the Onion Knight, continuing to speak the truth.

 "I have some goat's milk. Stronger than any of that grape water you southern twats like."
Tormund doing the same.

"If the lord didn't want me to bring you back, how did I bring you back?"
Religious tautologies always work when they're serving the purpose of whomever is speaking them.

"I've done other things just as bad. Or worse."
"And he paid for them."
"Doesn't seem like it. He's still alive."
Even Tirion has limits that encourage him toward the ultraviolence.

"They're loyal beasts."
"They were. Now they're starving."
Funny how that works.

And the winner:

"He'd like to give you his big cock. You won't get one without the other."
"And I imagine your offer is free of demands."
"I never demand, but I'm up for anything, really."
Asha inviting the queen to bed is the biggest display of balls this season.

You can't escape who you are

We've known for a while now that Arya would never be able to become one of the Faceless Men. Her identity as a Stark is too much a part of who she is as a person. The fact that she's even in Braavos and the House of Black and White in the first place is because of her identity as a Stark, since she asked for Jaqen's help in order to continue her mission of taking vengeance on everyone she blames for the death of her family. And family and identity are what this episode ("No one") is about, from Arya's assertion of herself to Jaime's confrontation with the truth about himself that he's tried to avoid to Tirion's attempt to get those around him to see life the way he does (consisting mostly of booze and bad jokes.) These are all expressions of who these people are, even if they're not what they'd like to be.

The example that's been driving this point home is the theater company that's been performing in Braavos since the beginning of the season. This is the framing element that D&D have been using to drive the point home that the great game of thrones is, in the end, largely about family/clan loyalty, just like the historical model that Martin originally based it upon: the Wars of the Roses and the clan wars among the Italian city-states. This is what Jaime cites in his confrontation with Edmure over Riverrun. Edmure can't abandon his son and wife to the depredations of the Freys and Jaime can't change the fact that he's a Lannister and he'll do anything to get back to his sister and lover. It pains him to admit that he's subject to the whims of another, even if those whims defy the notion of the man that he'd like to be and which Brienne attempted to remind him of. But, in the end, he's a Lannister and Cersei is Cersei. He can't escape it.

In some respects, the meta question created by the play is whether many of the main characters are acting of their own free will. I think that question is answered for Jaime and Arya (one is not, the other clearly is) but it remains to be seen how many others are merely actors in the play that makes up their lives and whether they would be someone else if given the opportunity. I think Tyrion is the best example, as he wistfully imagines owning a vineyard and making (and drinking) his own wine. But when pressed at various times in the books, he's still stated that he's a Lannister. The clan loyalty is still there. But it's obvious that, at various times, Daenerys has clearly imagined being someone different and not being saddled with the responsibility thrust upon her. Only in recent times has she finally fully embraced the idea of claiming all that she sees as her rightful heritage. And why? Because she's a Targaryen and her family once ruled all of Westeros, so she must do so, as well.

We can carry that meta idea even a step further and question the basic way in which the story is told. There's a debate among fiction writers about whether stories are plot-driven or character-driven. In the simplest and most biased interpretation, the former are about action and the latter are about feelings. But my estimation of the concept is a little different. Character-driven stories are centered around the actions and experiences of one (or perhaps two or three) characters. Without them, the story doesn't exist. Most superhero comics are character-driven. Captain America, the comic, doesn't exist without Captain America. Game of Thrones, on the other hand, is plot-driven: the story of what happens is going to proceed without or without any particular character. As we've seen so often, the deaths of what seem to be major players are just steps in the painting of the final picture. This is a story about events and those events are often driven by the actions of the main characters, but it's not reliant upon their actions to propel it forward. The snowball is already rolling downhill and everyone just better be able to keep up. In that respect, they're acting out their roles as surely as anyone who's ever stepped on a stage and performed. That's also what the play in Braavos is saying.

The interesting thing about the intersection of the play with the other identity story in Braavos is that the House of Black and White is essentially a cult of assassins. Those assassins are frequently hired by the wealthy to remove each other. It plays a role in the game of thrones. But it's accepted and even welcomed among the common people of Braavos for the service it provides to those in need. The life of the common person is often hard and the House of Black and White provides the release they seek at the end. In a city founded by ex-slaves, it's understandable that the regular person would be fine with the masters continuing to fight and kill each other, as long as the ones doing the killing did so at least partially amidst the ideal that, in the end, one dead person is the same as any other. Whether you're killed in the game as part of a noble family or released from disease on the streets of Braavos, the House brings everyone to the same level, where identity is irrelevant. In short, all of life is explained by Sandor Clegane.

Side notes:

This is the eighth episode and we're clearly in the home stretch. Given that, it was no surprise to see that Benioff and Weiss had returned to being the lead writers on this one. As you'd expect, it was well done. However, there were a couple down notes. While I understand the usefulness of the "drink with me and tell jokes" scene, the whole thing kind of fell flat. We get that Tyrion isn't particularly thrilled with the role that he has to play. That was never more obvious than when he was bidding farewell to Varys, knowing that they might never see each other again. I was still waiting for the punch line to the whole "drink and joke" scene when Grey Worm went running out of the room. I have a feeling that the editor had to be used on that one. Similarly, was there some point to the shot of the Hound pissing into the river? I mean, we knew what was happening. I'm not sure why we needed the view of the ripples on the water. If he'd been pissing on a corpse he'd just made, that would have been something worth taking the extra moment for.

In contrast, the showdown between the Mountain and the Faith Militant was really well done. Cersei's smirk at the beheading could not have told a more detailed story about her as a person and the shot of the blood running into the drain was a perfect example of the methods that she's always employed to get her way. Similarly, the chemistry between Gwendolyne Christie and Nikolai Coster-Waldau has not faded one bit in the last couple years. Their meeting in the tent had all the elements of what remains perhaps my favorite scene of the entire series: the moment in the baths ("Jaime. My name's Jaime.") While they both feel duty-bound to their roles for very different reasons, it remains fascinating to watch them deny what's in front of them, especially in Jaime's case, since the obligation to duty he feels is comprised mostly of his desire to return to another woman. It was great to get a dose of that again.

Was it only me or did The Waif tracking Arya through the city feel like The Terminator? They even used the comic-like impact shots that James Cameron loves so much, when The Waif would step into the shot again and the flicker of emotion would go across her supposedly robot-like face. If she'd started speaking in Austrian-inflected English, I'd have probably been OK with it. Also, it was interesting to see the end result of the widespread speculation on the Web last week about Arya leading her into a trap. While I was a little put off about how easy it seemed for Arya to ignore her fairly dire injuries after rolling down a few dozen stone steps (especially when confronting Jaqen H'ghar in the last scene), the salute with the sword and the return of the water dancer let me gloss over that a bit. Also, the little wry smile by H'ghar at the end was perhaps confirmation that even he doesn't know all the desires of the Many-faced God and perhaps here was the one person who went through all of the trials presented and rejected what she's been given. This was perhaps the truth revealed in another manner.

Finally, it was nice of them to acknowledge (by Varys, of course) the fact that Tirion had essentially made the same mistake as Cersei in giving in to the wishes of fanatics in order to accomplish what seems to be a greater goal. Having the catechism of Daenerys Stormborn spread by the priests of the Lord of Light will almost certainly involve larger complications in the future. With only two half-seasons to go, is there time for a holy war between the Red God and the Seven?

Lines of the week:

"Essos is east and Westeros is west, but what's west of Westeros? That's where all the maps stop."
What happens when you choose your own path?

"Those are your last words? 'Fuck you'? Come on, you can do better than that."
"Cunt!"
"You're shit at dying, you know that?"
The Hound is still good at the killing, brohim.

"She'll come back. She has to. My heart's been broken too many times already."
Varys with the reality of being the Master of Whispers.

"Podrick fucking Payne. I thought you'd be dead by now."
and
"The way all women look at him is frankly irritating. Preferred working with the little brother on that count."
and
"Lesson #1: Assume everyone wants to hit ya. Because they do, Pod. Everyone wants to hit a fuckin' squire."
Seriously. This is why Jerome Flynn is still in the show and why we're all thrilled that he is.

"This is my home. And if Jaime Lannister wants it, he can bloody well take it the way everyone else does."
Siege or go home, no exceptions for prissy Lannisters!

"Your place is in the gallery with the other 'ladies' of the court."
Kevan Lannister with the slight.

"Why don't you drink? Why don't either of you ever drink?"
I need this, so you need this!

"You imagine yourself a decent person? Is that it?"
Edmure with the smackdown, even if he couldn't keep it going.

"We all bloody die! Except this one here."
Beric Dondarrion defying the good sense of the Hound once again.

The almost-winner:

"I choose violence."
No quote better embodies Cersei's preferred approach and Lena Headey delivered it perfectly. That was excellent.

Because the Hound's always the winner

And the winner:

"There was a time I would have killed all seven of you just to gut these three."
"You're getting old, Clegane."
Because the Hound's always the winner, even if Thoros is right.

Stuff you don't like to do

You're telling me I gotta do what?

At many points in life, you're stuck doing things that you'd rather not be. Most people don't like their jobs. I don't like mine. I'd rather be writing for a living (such as being a TV and movie critic...) But you do what you gotta in order to get by and most of the scenes in this episode (titled "The Broken Man") are about that approach to life. Last week was when circumstances turn against you. This week was about the distasteful things you often have to do in order to get out of them. In many cases, it was a question of self-interest (the Hound not really caring about anyone, Theon wanting to crawl into a hole and die, Jon just wanting to get away from war) versus the supposed higher calling that should be motivating people to press on. Said higher calling is, of course, in the eye of the beholder. Jaime was actually pursuing a path that involved both self-interest (getting back to his sister) and the greater interests of House Lannister (recapturing Riverrun for erstwhile ally, Walder Frey), but it didn't make it any more enjoyable, even if it was a nice opportunity for writer Bryan Cogman to reintroduce Bronn for the first time this season.

[Tangent: Bronn is, without question, the most changed character from books to show. In the books, he was a secondary character of interest solely to Tirion and, once his bit was done in the latter half of A Storm of Swords, he disappeared. But Jerome Flynn turned him into such a fan favorite that not only did he wander off into storylines that didn't occur in the books (Dorne; not Sunspear, just Dorne (no, I'll never forget.)) but now he's being introduced into those that did (the siege of Riverrun.) It remains to be seen whether GRRM will return him to relevance in the same way that he promised to have more for Osha to do because of Natalia Tena's superlative performance, but it wouldn't surprise me. /tangent]

I'd really rather be with my dead girlfriend and, yet, here I am pleading with you on behalf of another ginger.

Most of that distasteful activity centered around activities in the ongoing "squabbling between houses" as Ser Davos put it, so it's not difficult to see how a lot of our cast isn't really interested in pursuing glory on the behalf of people that don't really like them (Jon, Theon, Sandor Clegane) or for goals that all of them find to be contrary to their own principles. This continues to highlight the contrast between the nobility and the commoners that the High Sparrow brings into focus with every episode: the war among the nobles hurt everyone but those people conducting the war until the Sparrow turned it on them. Even the "protectors of the people" known as the Brotherhood Without Banners (a specific denial of the nobility's tendency to identify themselves as elevated above regular folk because of the colors and bloodlines that they carry) has sunk to brigandage in the midst of the ongoing chaos.  This is what drives people to religion. Or alcohol. Or murder. In this episode, we got examples of all three (Margaery, Theon, The Waif (kinda.))

Septa Aella, the Implacable

The one that stands out among that pack is, of course, Margaery, who's engaging in her adopted role with a great deal more enthusiasm than the rest. You have to be a fanatic in order to fool fanatics. There was some question in the last episode as to whether Margaery had really been put under the sway of the Sparrow and the faith, but this episode dispelled all of that. Margaery is a canny operator and she knows that doing the Sparrow's bidding in order to get her grandmother out of the city (removing the presence of the Tyrells for his purposes) also saves Olenna's life. The note of the rose (There's a short story title; too generic for a band name) reveals her true devotion to house and family. Her claiming that she no longer likes sex is probably just a way of (ahem) sticking it to the Sparrow by suggesting that the faith extends too far to serve what are his own political purposes, as he's no slouch when it comes to playing the game despite all claims to the contrary ("We're just here to serve the common people", etc.) He knows that the death of Baelor the Blessed without an heir led indirectly to the Dance of the Dragons that burned the seven kingdoms from one end to the other. If crown and faith are united, there has to be a continuing crown. So, you do what everyone else did this episode and grudgingly encourage the woman you've been scolding as a harlot to get back into bed and, really, no one likes to do that...

On the other hand, this episode was also an opportunity for a lot of characters to revel in some blunt talk that said some things that most people (fans and characters alike) have been thinking for quite some time, so life isn't always a trial. Olenna dressing down Cersei for her rash and stupid decisions involving the faith was about the most richly deserved moment in the history of the show, to date. Plus, one gets to read about all kinds of historical parallels involving current events, if you're so inclined. Meanwhile, Brynden Tully's obvious disdain for both those he considers beneath him (the Freys) and simply beneath contempt (Jaime) was a great reintroduction of the Blackfish. Furthermore, the scene between Asha and Theon was a genuinely great moment for the two actors. Alfie Allen has continued to do yeoman's work as Theon, but Gemma Whelan really hit every note on key as she berated her brother to stand up for himself while showing real emotion and concern on her face for his well-being. It's a fine line to tread without appearing either "weak" to the Ironborn or too harsh for Theon's fragile condition. Speaking of appearing weak, I guess it's kind of appropriate in Iron Islands culture for a female captain to enjoy screwing women like the rest of her crew, but it strikes me as D&D/Cogman being a bit obvious in terms of bending to expected sexual perceptions in which the woman plays the nominally weaker role (the one imposed upon instead of doing the imposing.) In the books, GRRM avoided that since Asha is quite the sexual being, but does so with men and leaves no question as to who is fucking whom. I think I would have been more comfortable with her showing that her role reversal (a woman in charge of Ironborn) is complete in all facets of her life.

Yeah, that look of consternation was on my face, too.

Similarly, the "big shocker" moment of the episode, the attempt on Arya's life by the Waif, was a bit off. While the moments with the Westerosi captain were entertaining and showed an Arya fully in command of her world and finally sure of her path, it seemed a bit too obvious to be approached by a random woman on the street. Having been training to be a Faceless Man for this long and knowing that they wouldn't let her go that easily, it seems unlikely that she wouldn't have been ready to vivisect anyone that stepped that close to her at just about any moment. Yes, she was cocky and paid the price for it, but she's also now the equivalent of a trained assassin and that just seemed too easy. I suppose that the Waif was our one character that was actually engaging in something that she really enjoyed, as opposed to most of the rest of our cast. One wonders just how many Braavosi understand when someone has been marked by the Many-faced God and chose to not got involved as the mortally-wounded Arya staggered through the streets. Gotta push on through.

Side notes:

While I understand the technique, I have to say that the alternate cuts between scenes are getting kind of annoying. It used to be that an extended scene would be cut into parts and the episode would move around between three or four storylines before returning to the second or third part of the long bit. In recent seasons, we've seen a lot more direct swapping and tonight's episode did a lot of that, in which we switched back and forth between, say, Riverrun and the Hound multiple times, while events progressed in each. While that does allow for easy transitions between events of actual significance, it starts to feel like a cheat. They didn't have to show (or pay for) the church community getting slaughtered by the Brotherhood because they switched to Braavos for the shocker moment and then back to Clegane to just show the aftermath. It's not like we need to see more people getting cut to pieces (and, as noted, it costs a lot of money to shoot those battle scenes, pay for FX, pay for extras and stuntmen in action, etc.), but it does tend to set up stereotypical moments like the end of this episode, where we see Clegane grabbing his axe before storming off camera. We could have gotten the same effect if he'd seen the carnage happen or, honestly, if he'd walked in and we closed out with him looking at the hanged priest. But we needed a moment of IMPACT after the cut to Braavos and so we get the obvious churning jaw of impending vengeance. It could be writer, director, editor or any combination of the three but, as I said, it's been happening more frequently in the last couple seasons and it's starting to feel cheap.

"Lemme tellya about that cocksu-!"

In all honesty, nothing in this episode, as good as it was, was as thrilling as seeing Ian McShane return to HBO. The opening on the construction project reminded me of the barn-raising scene in Witness and here was Al Swearengen, noted Amishman, leading the effort. (The language in that second link is very NSFW.) This is why McShane would have taken this bit role. It gives him the opportunity to berate people for both blindly and poorly following religion while he gets to play the most profane priest in Westeros. What made that scene even more poignant was the return of my oft-noted, all-time favorite character in A Song of Ice and Fire, Sandor Clegane. While I was perfectly happy with his death scene in the books and found it even more poetic when we read about the rumors drifting around the Crownlands that indicated that he might be alive and had reoriented his life to working at a small monastery, I'm fine with him being back in action, as well. On the technical side, it was kind of weird to find this whole odd and rather slow tangent in the midst of a season that has moved at breakneck speed and with so many balls being juggled.  This felt like something that should have shown up in episode 2, rather than episode 7.

"Go on. Try and tell me about what I don't know."

The most interesting and amusing change was the introduction of Maege Mormont's youngest daughter, Lyanna, as the new lady of the manor. In the books, Maege is still alive, having been sent by Robb to Seagard prior to the Red Wedding. She also has several other daughters older than Lyanna. But this was a great scene and kind of highlighted Robb's part in the overall theme, as dealing with an impertinent 10-year-old for the addition of her 62 men was probably the last thing he wanted to be doing. Given that said impertinent child had a better grasp of the political situation than anyone but Davos only made it better. Bella Ramsey was excellent.

Just as a minor technical note, where exactly did Sansa come up with a Stark stamp for her letter to a benefactor that Jon doesn't know about? Has she been carrying it with her all the way from Winterfell?

Lines of the week:

"I think some of them are a bit afraid of you."
"I'm used to it."

and

"There's a reason you're still here."
"There's a reason: I'm a big fucker and I'm tough to kill."
There's nothing like the Hound to cut things down to their very essence. (Pun alert.)

"Congress does not require desire on the woman's part. Only patience."
So, uh, yeah... Here's the thing about that... The Sparrow later suggesting that "Sometimes the true path is hard to find" was a softball just waiting to be put over the fence.

"We're not clever like you southerners. We say we'll do something, we do it."
Tormund with the guilt trip and jab.

The smackdown.

"I wonder if you're the worst person I've ever met. At this age, it's honestly hard to recall. But the truly vile person does tend to stand out."

and

"You've lost, Cersei. It's the only joy I can find in all this misery."
I am so going to miss Dianna Rigg when her role is finally wrapped up. I hope this wasn't it.

"You have better instincts than anyone in the Lannister army."
"That's like saying I got the biggest cock in the Unsullied army."

and

"Good thing we're friends or we'd be fucking you in the ass right now."
This is why you keep Jerome Flynn around.

"Your 'honor'... Bargaining with oathbreakers is like building on quicksand."
A little over the top. He's right, though: Sieges are dull. In medieval times, you had about as much chance of dying of disease (or boredom) as the besiegers as anyone inside did of starvation.

"Nothing on the Iron Islands has an ass like that."
That's why everyone's looking for saltwives, presumably...

"We'll get you justice!"
"If I got justice, my burnt body would hang over the gates of Winterfell."
Seriously, Alfie Allen is still great.

"We weren't animals. Animals are true to their nature... and we'd betrayed ours."
Al pontificating on the idea that humans aren't inherently savage. That's a loaded question.

and the winner:

Because the Hound's always the winner.

"Violence is a disease. You don't cure disease by spreading it to more people."
"You don't cure it by dying, either."

Sometimes it's just out of your (cold)hands.

There comes a time when you realize that things are just going to be different, no matter what you try to do. Circumstances, people, the weather; sometimes they all conspire against you and you just have to either go with the flow or stand there like an idiot and try to keep the tide from coming in. Good luck with that. That was the prevailing theme of this bridge episode that is setting up the remainder of the season and, indeed, the remainder of the story: the world is going to change and you'd better be ready for it. Resistance is futile. This was highlighted in the earliest moments by Bran flashing back to the Mad King Aerys and his command to "Burn them all!" as the Lannisters entered the city in the last stages of Robert's Rebellion and Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, the Oathbreaker, ended the reign of the Targaryens. The world was changing and Aerys wasn't keeping up. Of course, some of us have been waiting for said changes since the story began 20 years ago, so I continue to have the feeling about this season that so much of it has been predicted for so long that it often feels anti-climactic.

For example, although they didn't name him as such, it's obvious that Benjen Stark was actually Coldhands, the being that guided Bran and the Jojens north to the greenseer in the books and then couldn't enter because of his nature. That nature is now confirmed as something halfway between a wight and a human. His true identity and his nature have been speculated upon by book readers since he first appeared in a Storm of Swords (16 years ago, if you're counting.) I understand them leaving the character out of the show to this point because of the constraints of budget and time and because Coldhands in the books is kinda more fantastical than most others, since he rides a giant elk and has a flock of ravens under his command. But I can't help but feel that not only was his appearance and explanation obvious to book readers (yes, even if GRRM refuted said speculation when his editor asked), but it probably feels like a "Who?" moment to show watchers, since he hasn't been seen since season 1 and was a bit player then.

On the other hand, when we consider events that haven't occurred in the books, the fact that the common people were asserting control throughout the Seven Kingdoms has become more and more evident as time passed. With the Faith Militant now backing them up and most of them realizing that "they got the guns, but we got the numbers", this episode just highlighted that fact as the full force of the Tyrells was faced down in the streets by the Faith and the surrounding crowd, who were clearly on the side of the church (and, probably, the side about to put one of the most attractive women in the land on a nude stroll through the streets. Priorities, yo.) This turn of events wasn't as predictable as Benjen's reappearance/confession, but it's clearly been building since the Brotherhood Without Banners first appeared and was solidifying by the end of Dance of Dragons when the Faith had taken control of the city from Cersei and Kevan Lannister. This was evident on a very personal level, as well, when Tommen speaks to the High Sparrow and it's very clear who is granting favor to whom. A few minutes later, Tommen finally reunites with his queen and, again, the one in control of the situation is very clearly Margaery. Welcome to the dichotomy of the absolute dictator that is led around by the nose by whoever can speak most convincingly. It's tough to be the (boy) king.

Now that King Tommen has joined Crown with Faith (something probably not even approachable in the books, where Tommen is only nine years old), it makes the eventual dispersal of control of the kingdoms to a more widespread hand almost inevitable. At the very least, it confirms the bloody war between nobility and commoners at the behest of the church... which creates a very interesting question for when another noble presence, one Daenerys Targaryen, a noble but still champion of the little people, returns to Westeros. Do the people regard her as yet another highborn tyrant come to put them under her thumb or accept that her idea is to throw down the great houses... so that they all serve her? Wait, wut? Yeah. That's going to be an interesting writers' quandary (as have been so many other things about Dany.) Throw in the church that never liked the Targaryens and their incestuous and sorcerous ways in the first place and it will be hard to find allies for the incoming queen.

Meanwhile, in matters of slightly less broad import, we finally meet Sam's father, Randyll Tarly, who's every bit as grim and ferocious as I'd hoped for. James Faulkner was excellent in this role. His Wikipedia entry says he's best known for playing Randyll Tarly, but because I'm a geek, I remember him as Herod Agrippa in the I, Claudius TV series from the 70s. He spends his time similarly to his brethren in the Lannister and Tyrell families, railing against the events that have landed his unloved eldest son and his Wildling common law wife and bastard son on the noble Tarly doorstep. That dinner scene was the best of the episode, because you can see Sam bearing up under the weight of his father's scorn and you can even expect that one of those scowls is going to finally trigger the eruptive response. But, as always, Gilly arrives to speak the truth and try to lay the smackdown on the lord of the manor. In the end, we see those events pass by Horn Hill, anyway, when Sam survives the barrage of criticism and leaves with his wife and son. Oh, and the family sword.

Similarly, Arya's version of pushing against the tide has finally come to rest. She will never be a Faceless Man. She lives by her emotions. They're what drive her and make her. The realization that there are consequences on the other end of the assassin's blade (or poison) is one of those things that does indeed take some time to digest for someone that young, even as driven by rage and hatred as she is. She will always be Arya Stark and the hiding (and now retrieval) of Needle is the confirmation of that. I guess we could have hoped for a slightly more visceral event to have pushed her over the edge, such as actually committing the murder of an innocent actress, but that may have been just more time and money spent on another scene that wasn't necessary. It does add a bit of a "redemption" aura to Arya's whole storyline, which I don't think is quite the right angle to take with the character. No one should think of Arya as a "hero", per se, as she's mostly just been trying to survive and adapting nicely to whichever conditions have come along. For a long time, I've been looking forward to the idea of how the writers (both Martin and D&D) were going to work out her status as a Faceless Man with her obvious inclination to both help and rejoin the remainder of her family. That option is now closed to the show, but perhaps it's something that GRRM is still interested in tackling.

And no review of this episode would be complete without mentioning the ultimate complainer of how the whole world is against him (often with good reason):  Walder Frey. For those of you that understand college football, Walder Frey is the Michigan State of Westeros. It was great to see David Bradley in the role again, even if solely as a setup (Disrespekt!) for next week's events in Riverrun. I know that most fans are just waiting for the Late Lord Frey to get what's coming to him from the Red Wedding (Disrespekt!), but I really enjoy seeing him ranting about how everyone around him is an idiot who doesn't listen (Disrespekt!) and I hope we get something more substantial (Disrespekt!) before the hammer finally drops.

Finally, the one character genuinely making the tide as opposed to having to swim against it was, as usual, Daenerys and it was appropriate to have that kind of counterbalance occur at the end of the episode. On the other hand, the whole scene was kind of superfluous. We already know that the Dothraki are completely devoted to her service, since they saw her walk unscathed from an inferno where she'd just slaughtered all the other khals a couple episodes ago. Did we really need another oath of service because she was asking for one from Drogon's back? This seemed like more of an excuse to end the episode with a pseudo-uplifting moment and spend a little of the CGI budget at the same time. This has been one of the lurking problems with Dany's storyline for years now: it involves a lot of waiting while more pertinent stuff happens elsewhere. But just like everyone else mentioned here, the fans will have no more luck trying to change things than Jaime, Arya, or Randyll Tarly. The only person with that power may be Bran.

Side notes:

I mean, really, how many Dany-standing-before-a-crowd-and-proclaiming-herself-the-promised-one moments can we have? We get it. Also, the most important question of that whole scene was: Did she feed the horse to Drogon before she mounted him?

It's mildly interesting to note that the show is now swerving back to the books in terms of Jaime's story, since he's apparently going to be leading the siege at Riverrun as he did in Dance with Dragons. The whole Dorne misadventure never happened in the books, just as it shouldn't have in the show. Someday, perhaps, we'll learn the point of that whole production.

The strange weapon that Benjen is wielding when he saves Bran and Meera resembles a kusari-gama but, like, with fire, man. I can't say that I was thrilled with the direction of that scene, since it was kind of heavy on the modern trend toward doing everything in real speed so that you're not quite sure what's happening until it's over and/or someone has to stop to deliver a cool piece of dialogue. Considering the number of undead that were chasing the two of them through the no-longer-held door, my first impression was there was no way one guy with a flaming flail was going to make a difference. Also, using fire in the furthest wilderness of Westeros is kind of like a signal flare to everything within 20 miles, right? I know. I'm being picky. That scene just didn't sit well with me.

Despite all the complaints, all credit is due to D&D for exploiting the fanatics "who yearn for death in the service of the gods" angle without coming down so hard that comparison to modern parallels like ISIS is irresistible.

Richard E. Grant, the lead actor of the troupe in Braavos who complains about how he's a master of his art and doesn't get noticed for it (Disrespekt!), looks remarkably like Christopher Walken. When I saw him again this week, I was totally hoping for the bigger cameo.

Lines of the week:

"You're nervous. You're a nervous talker."
" ... "
"Well, that's not any better, being a nervous mute!"
Gilly with the truth, as always.

"Told me to leave. Promised to kill me if I didn't. Well, a person starts to not feel welcome at that point."
And Sam, likewise.

"The Faith Militant are very stern with those who overstep their bounds."
Subtle.

"You lost it? It's a castle, not a sheep!"
Seriously. More Walder Frey, please.

"It will be a trial by combat. I have the Mountain."
Read: I won already. Unless the Church has a really big fanatic.

And the winner:

"My final speech is shit. But to be fair to myself, which I always like to be, the writing's no good."
Ego is a necessary thing for an actor. And writers, too.

Paradox

There's a favorite Orwell quote of mine from his novel 1984 that represents the political ideology of Oceania, known as Ingsoc: "Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past." It's meant to represent the idea that people will usually hew to tradition if faced with a problem that they can't solve and that "tradition" will typically be defined by whoever can declare what "tradition" has always been. If historical revisionism is the order of the day (witness the current image of Ronald Reagan as basically nothing close to who he was and what he actually did while in office), then you can dictate how things will evolve based on myths and legend. I give you Brandon Stark and his trusted compatriot, Willas Hold the Door.

Now, that's one small event that Bran altered and which led to the current future. Obviously, Hodor has been key to Bran's survival and his reaching the last Greenseer, Bloodraven, in order to learn how to slip back in time in order to create Hodor from Willas (Walder in the books) so there's a certain element of time looping taking place here in that one respect, but that seems to revolve solely around Bran himself and we've yet to see him impact any other major events. It's been suggested around the Web that Bran could have influenced some of the key elements of the story, such as driving Aerys Targaryen mad, but I don't think that either D&D or GRRM will go quite that far or we'll end up in Matrix-land and no one really wants to go all the way to the Land of Allegory (hopefully.) There's a limit to how much symmetry can be applied before everyone assumes that everything is simply one more trope.

For example, the revelation that the Others were created by the Children of the Forest as a way to defend themselves against the First Men is an element of storytelling that has been seen before, assuming that they were created as a weapon that the Children later lost control over. OTOH, they could have been created as a tool of Armageddon that the creators had no interest in controlling, deciding that the future world was simply one that nothing should be living in. The fact that the locale shown where the first of the Others was created is the same one that the Night King uses to create new members of the tribe from the babies that Craster was giving to them might mean that there's some element of power in the locale and not just the ceremony that the Children initiated. But if the root of the Others lies with the Children, why is their leader, Night's King, a former member of the Night's Watch that was created to man the Wall, which was raised to resist the Others in the first place? He was the 13th commander of the Night's Watch, which means he was there long after the Others had first appeared and the Wall was even built. Why is he the leader now? Somewhere along the way, the myth, the "tradition", has been either misunderstood or perhaps intentionally altered by those who wished it to be seen in a particular way.

That perspective informs much of the rest of the episode, as Sansa and Jon (a female heir in the land of primogeniture and a bastard oathbreaker who's been raised from the dead) try to stake a claim to the North; as Tirion and Varys make reluctant alliance with a religion that neither believes in nor trusts but which also seeks to stamp a new outlook on the ancient Ghiscari culture and the world; as Asha and Theon try to assert control, again in the land of primogeniture, in the name of finally making the Ironmen something other than simply reavers clinging to the rocks with what they've been able to loot from wealthier peoples; as Arya tries to follow a path that she knows she cannot walk, as she'll never be able to leave behind her personal traditions that define her as a Stark and, in fact, as Arya, the strongest personality amongst all her siblings.

Indeed, those searching for greater symmetry in the story may not even have the animal totems of the two central houses, Targaryen and Stark, to look to. There are only two direwolves left from the five introduced at the beginning. While Grey Wind and Robb were doomed from the outset and it seems somehow appropriate that Summer died defending Bran who has now become the last Greenseer, if untimely (ahem), Ghost and Nymeria survive; the former still being the rogue element that his master, Jon, represents as the male Targaryen heir, and the latter being the living tie that embodies Arya's inability to ever leave herself behind, as the wolf that was sent away in the Riverlands but can never truly abandon who and what she is. But Sansa endures while Lady, her wolf, was the first one to die. Lady's death was symbolic of the death of a dream, while Sansa continuing is testament to the endurance of the real world and her role in it. Bran is outside of it, Robb is past it, Jon and Arya are skirting the edges of it, but Sansa persists. Is that still symmetry? It's hard to say. All we know is that what seemed to be uncharted waters, post-books, for the first 4 episodes of the season have now firmly become a path of their own. We're on the back 9 of the season and while some roads still seems fairly clear, others have become that much more difficult to predict. That's a good thing.

And, in some sense, the time paradox that represents everything simply happening again (Those who do not learn from history...) was thematically present from the opening moments, when we see Sansa sewing again, just as in her childhood, and eventually making a garment for her brother that she remembered her father wearing. Kinvara wears a necklace just like Melisandre's. Another illusion about defying time? Or an acknowledgment of the unified vision for what's to come? The past is the present is the future. Is this what Benioff and Weiss were trying to say? That we can't escape the past even as we change the future? Maybe. But I'm still hoping that there's something more to it and that Bran's personal adventure isn't the defining element of the entire story, but continues to be just another part of the whole. Similarly, while I certainly appreciate the somewhat faster pace of this season in comparison to the semi-torpor of some storylines that was pulled from similar circumstances in Feast and Dance, I admit to feeling a little rushed. The culmination of some of these stories has been a long time in coming and I really hope that Bran's adventures up and down the timeline aren't used as a shortcut around any of them.

Side notes:

It was interesting to see Littlefinger under real pressure again for the first time since Cersei instructed him on what she felt was the real definition of power. It was also inevitable that he'd be able to play mindgames with Sansa by mentioning the Blackfish, even as she was as determined as anyone has been to kill him. One questions why Sansa was willing to lie effectively on Littlefinger's behalf (Brienne's pointed question being the same as mine), but the appeal to family may have been what Baelish was counting on to spin her head around and make he still a useful asset at some point. I still almost guarantee that Littlefinger will escape with his life when this is all over, even if it means going back to being just the lord of one of the smallest of the Fingers. On a technical note, they sure like to play fast and loose with the massive distances in the North. Baelish casually mentioning that he left the knights of the Vale in Moat Cailin while he strolled up to Mole's Town means that he left them WEEKS ago.

I wonder, perhaps, if they're overdoing it a bit with Arya. Her unceasing anger in her training with the other girl is making it more obvious than ever that she'll never become a Faceless Man because she simply can't abandon who she is. The overly lengthy scene of her observing the play (although I did appreciate the parallels to Hamlet: the play within a play) and having an emotional reaction to the representations of Eddard and Sansa drove that point home a bit too much. I mean, we get it. She's Arya. She'll always be Arya. As much as she's becoming an assassin, she'll never be able to make the commitment to the religion of the Many-Faced God anymore than Tirion will become a devotee of R'hllor. Having a good chunk of season one acted out in parody took up a lot of the episode to little real end, other than to give the audience the first real gratuitous shot of full frontal, male.

The Kingsmoot scene unfortunately fell completely flat to me. It would have been much more dramatic and interesting had it taken place inside the castle on Pyke. There was some good tension in Theon's moment of truth, but Pilou Asbæk was completely uninspiring as Euron, either in the moot or as he recovered from the drowning ritual. The actor simply lacks the air of menace combined with gravitas that the character carries in the books. People want to follow this guy, why? Also, no eyepatch! WTF? Finally, with Theon and Asha having stolen what looks to be the bulk of the fleet, Euron's inspiring plan is to build a whole new one? That's going to take months, at least. And who's going to man this new fleet? Furthermore, how are there enough trees left on the islands to make it? The reavers have been operating for centuries. The books mention that the islands are largely denuded as a consequence of the shipbuilding that's been a habit for those centuries. This just seems like a really ill-considered tangent, especially since Euron of the show isn't half as interesting as Euron of the books.

I'm not sure what happened to Emilia Clarke but she looked the most assured and imperious that she ever has on this show. Change of makeup and/or hair? It was something. Up to this point, even in the scenes where she had complete control of the situation, as when she became queen of Meereen amidst the screams of the crucified, she'd still looked somewhat uncertain. Her scene with Jorah tonight was the first time I can remember thinking that her gaze had real impact. She looked like a queen.

Lines of the night (not many, as the events were more important):

"Did you know about Ramsay? If you didn't, you're an idiot. If you did, you're my enemy."
Get some!

"Does death only come for the wicked and leave the decent behind?"
We should be so lucky.

"I may not know the North, but I know men. They're the same in pretty much any corner of the world. None of them want to see their wives and children skinned for a lost cause."
There is that...

And the winner:

"You want your queen to be worshiped and obeyed. And while she's gone you want her advisers to be worshiped and obeyed."
"I'd settle for obeyed."
Me, too. Most of the time.

And, of course, it's hard to leave without including:
"Hodor."