Game of Thrones might be too familiar, too expansive, to have the same force it once did. When a show's been on the air for five years, it's harder for it to surprise you; you know many more of its tricks, and you've seen much of what it's good and bad at. And Game of Thrones is good at a lot of things--humorous asides, daring rescues, and striking character moments--so that even when it's simply chugging along, it's still a very enjoyable show.
But for a season premiere, "The Red Woman" was underwhelming. It wasn't bad, mind you--there were plenty of exciting moments and interesting developments--but little to make you stand up and take notice of a series at the height of its powers moving toward the end game, save for perhaps one scene.
That scene is Brienne saving Sansa, and pledging fealty to her, while Podrick feeds his master's new lord the appropriate reciprocal words and Theon nods in approval. There's several things that make that moment stand out. There are real stakes to Sansa and Theon's attempt to escape from Winterfell, both from the hounds barking in the distance and their clear fatigue and stress from traipsing through the snow. There's genuine character development, in the cold giving the two of them reason to embrace, and Theon's attempt to sacrifice himself in order to save his near-sister. Brienne's daring rescue is a thrill, giving solid moments to Brienne, Podrick, and Theon, and having the action feel anything but gratuitous given what's at stake. The aftermath is triumphant, with Brienne finally fulfilling her oath, the poor, constantly embattled Sansa finally having a true protector, and their seconds each having a hand in the result.
But it also stands out because it's one of the few parts of "The Red Woman" where the story is moving inward rather than continuing to expand or running in place. While I'm sure there's much more to come in each of their stories, this is a major landmark in Brienne's quest to fulfill her promise to Catelyn Stark, to Sansa's endeavor to be safe and in charge of her own destiny, to Podrick's desire to help his master rather than hold her back, and to Theon's quest for redemption. Each of these story threads is tied together in one tremendous scene.
That stands out in comparison to the rest of the episode, which has some moments and scenes that are better than others, but for the most part, feels scattershot. A season premiere for a show like Game of Thrones is difficult, because as the series's plot has telescoped out to encompass so many different stories and characters, there's a sense that at the start of a new chapter, it has to check in with each of them (give or take a warg).
The result is something of a hodgepodge of tones and atmospheres and settings, most of them glancing, many of them pretty good, but few of them truly cohesive in any way. There's not necessarily anything wrong with that. Game of Thrones is a series known for its scope, and by definition that's going to require some jumping around, especially as a reintroduction to all of the ongoing conflicts. It just makes it hard to judge an individual episode like "The Red Woman" as anything other than the sum of its parts.
Three of those parts all stem from the aftermath of last season's adventure in Mereen. The best and most promising of them is Tyrion and Varys's journey through the streets of their new home. I could watch an episode of just the two of them bantering back and forth for an hour and be entertained, but "The Red Woman" uses Tyrion's attempt to get to know the place he intends to govern both to illustrate how he, unlike Varys, is not a man of the people however much he may try and care, and that a civil war is brewing in the contentious land they're trying to keep in order. The worst is Jora and Daario's little horse ride to find their queen, which does little other than repeat character beats we're already familiar with, remind the audience of Jora's cheesy stone infection, and move the rescue plot a few spaces forward.
Somewhere in the middle is Daenerys's encounter with another group of Dothraki. The journey to meet the new Khal is a bit silly and crude, but generally amusing, as Dany's captors appear to be the Dothraki answer to a pair of leads in Kevin Smith movie, and Dany's look of palpable discussion when listening to a conversation they don't think she can understand is perfect. That scene, and the ensuing one where the Khal declares his intentions to lie with her regardless of her wishes will no doubt launch a thousand thinkpieces, but each of them lean into a venerable idea when it comes to the mother of dragons -- the way she is at once attempting to project strength and power, but still quite vulnerable, uncertain, and even frightened at what fate might await her. Emilia Clark does a superb job of showing the many shades of her character as her fortunes wax and wane during her conversation with this new Khal. The promise to transport her to what sounds like the Dothraki homeland is a foreboding one, that threatens to add yet another spot on the map for the show's intro.
The least interesting of the stories in "The Red Woman" centered around the events of Dorne. There's something of a shock to the Sand Snakes' coup at the Dornish palace, but we barely know most of these people, so the impact is blunted. Admittedly, there's intrigue Dorne being ruled by someone who's directly antagonistic to the Lannisters, and to the idea that the people of Dorne resented their leaders and yearn to stand against those who hold sway over King's Landing, but there's more promise in the concept than in the execution thus far. (No pun intended.) Similarly, the hokiest two Sand Snakes taking out the Dornish Prince on the boat only served as a reminder of how pointless he was as a character and how annoying, dare I say Poochie-esque his assassins are.
That said, there was more meat on the bone in Cersei and Jamie's reunion. The excitement in Cersei's voice when she heard of a ship on the horizon and said her daughter's name, and the attendant way her expression slowly but surely fell when she saw the floating shroud heading toward her, and the grave look on her lover's face was devastating. The death of Joffrey brought Cersei to anger, to her most bitter and vindictive, but Marcella's death has a much different effect. She is, instead, simply crestfallen, brought as low as she imagined she could be, slowly but surely losing the most important things in her life. The idea that Marcella perishing is particularly devastating to Cersei because she saw her daughter as pure and good, and it made her feel better about herself and all she's wrought, is one that adds yet more depth to one of the show's most complex characters. Jamie's response that they are neither cursed nor bound by fate, but should respond to this horror by lashing out at those who brought it to their doorstep does more to warrant interest and excitement as to where the conflict with Dorne will lead than all the bloody coups and painful attempts at bon mots that preceded it.
The episode takes time to check in with the rest of those across Westeros and beyond. Arya's still blind and begging on the streets, being tested by Jaqen H'ghar in a bow-fight that seems headed toward a Karate Kid montage. Margaery Tyrell is still in prison, thoroughly cowed and shell shocked after her repeated encounters with her captors. The High Sparrow plays good cop/bad cop with her as she asks how her brother is, with little more than an ominous assurance for her to go on. And even Ramses has a brief moment of humanity, couched though it may be in his usual sadism, as he mourns the loss of the only lover who shared his deranged sensibilities, and feels the blowback from his father for how his extracurricular activities led to the loss of both Sansa and Theon, threatening both the Boltons' hold on Winterfell and Ramses' claim as his father's heir.
But the other major fireworks of "The Red Woman" take place at Castle Black. Ser Davos proves himself both for his kindness, his cunning, and his wits when he collects Jon Snow's dead body, brings in Ghost, and holes up with everyone in a storeroom before sending Edd to rally support among The Wildlings. Davos's dry wit carries the day in these scenes, that still take care to sweep across the desolate environment of The Watch and its guests.
At the same time, Thorne has an impressive moment defending himself in front of his fellow brothers after confessing to the murder of their Lord Commander. As I wrote in my discussion of the Season 5 finale, what makes Thorne's actions and his speech her interesting is that you believe he truly means what he says, that there's a certain noble impulse behind his choice even if it seems foolish or wrongheaded to the audience. Thorne's disdain for Jon Snow has been clear from the beginning, and he admits to the assembled that he had no love lost for the man. But there's something genuine when he says that he never disobeyed an order, that as harsh or self-important as he could be, his assassination, joined in with the other commanders, was about something bigger than him, a tradition and a brotherhood that he saw posed to be destroyed under Jon's care. I don't exactly admire the man, but I admire the show for making him more than the one-dimensional villain he occasionally devolved into in previous episodes.
Finally, there is the titular Red Woman. She sees Jon's dead body and has a moment of questioning. She saw him fighting and Winterfell in her vision, and yet there he lies, white as a stone. She promised Stannis that sacrificing his daughter would lead his side to victory against the Boltons. It becomes much more of a question, smoke monster or not, how much she has or had real power, and how much of her prophecies and persuasions are simply more of her admitted parlor tricks. Then, she undresses and reveals a much older, more withered woman, and the nature of her abilities is at once both more and less a question. It's a revelation, meant to be one of those trademark big moments in Game of Thrones, but for the time being, it just seems strange with little immediately obvious point at this juncture.
Perhaps it simply fits into what appears to be the animating principle for the rest of "The Red Woman" -- giving the audience just enough of a taste to rekindle their interest in the spiderwebbed plots that stretch across Westeros, while pointing us in the direction the balance of the season will follow. The episode feels more like a grand reintroduction, a preview almost, for what's to come than a unified story all it's own, and familiarity with the shape of the series' arcs takes some of the thrill away from events like that closing twist. But it's enough to keep us talking, and wondering, and tuning in next week, so I suppose it'll do just fine.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2016-04-26T22:54:40Z
Game of Thrones might be too familiar, too expansive, to have the same force it once did. When a show's been on the air for five years, it's harder for it to surprise you; you know many more of its tricks, and you've seen much of what it's good and bad at. And Game of Thrones is good at a lot of things--humorous asides, daring rescues, and striking character moments--so that even when it's simply chugging along, it's still a very enjoyable show.
But for a season premiere, "The Red Woman" was underwhelming. It wasn't bad, mind you--there were plenty of exciting moments and interesting developments--but little to make you stand up and take notice of a series at the height of its powers moving toward the end game, save for perhaps one scene.
That scene is Brienne saving Sansa, and pledging fealty to her, while Podrick feeds his master's new lord the appropriate reciprocal words and Theon nods in approval. There's several things that make that moment stand out. There are real stakes to Sansa and Theon's attempt to escape from Winterfell, both from the hounds barking in the distance and their clear fatigue and stress from traipsing through the snow. There's genuine character development, in the cold giving the two of them reason to embrace, and Theon's attempt to sacrifice himself in order to save his near-sister. Brienne's daring rescue is a thrill, giving solid moments to Brienne, Podrick, and Theon, and having the action feel anything but gratuitous given what's at stake. The aftermath is triumphant, with Brienne finally fulfilling her oath, the poor, constantly embattled Sansa finally having a true protector, and their seconds each having a hand in the result.
But it also stands out because it's one of the few parts of "The Red Woman" where the story is moving inward rather than continuing to expand or running in place. While I'm sure there's much more to come in each of their stories, this is a major landmark in Brienne's quest to fulfill her promise to Catelyn Stark, to Sansa's endeavor to be safe and in charge of her own destiny, to Podrick's desire to help his master rather than hold her back, and to Theon's quest for redemption. Each of these story threads is tied together in one tremendous scene.
That stands out in comparison to the rest of the episode, which has some moments and scenes that are better than others, but for the most part, feels scattershot. A season premiere for a show like Game of Thrones is difficult, because as the series's plot has telescoped out to encompass so many different stories and characters, there's a sense that at the start of a new chapter, it has to check in with each of them (give or take a warg).
The result is something of a hodgepodge of tones and atmospheres and settings, most of them glancing, many of them pretty good, but few of them truly cohesive in any way. There's not necessarily anything wrong with that. Game of Thrones is a series known for its scope, and by definition that's going to require some jumping around, especially as a reintroduction to all of the ongoing conflicts. It just makes it hard to judge an individual episode like "The Red Woman" as anything other than the sum of its parts.
Three of those parts all stem from the aftermath of last season's adventure in Mereen. The best and most promising of them is Tyrion and Varys's journey through the streets of their new home. I could watch an episode of just the two of them bantering back and forth for an hour and be entertained, but "The Red Woman" uses Tyrion's attempt to get to know the place he intends to govern both to illustrate how he, unlike Varys, is not a man of the people however much he may try and care, and that a civil war is brewing in the contentious land they're trying to keep in order. The worst is Jora and Daario's little horse ride to find their queen, which does little other than repeat character beats we're already familiar with, remind the audience of Jora's cheesy stone infection, and move the rescue plot a few spaces forward.
Somewhere in the middle is Daenerys's encounter with another group of Dothraki. The journey to meet the new Khal is a bit silly and crude, but generally amusing, as Dany's captors appear to be the Dothraki answer to a pair of leads in Kevin Smith movie, and Dany's look of palpable discussion when listening to a conversation they don't think she can understand is perfect. That scene, and the ensuing one where the Khal declares his intentions to lie with her regardless of her wishes will no doubt launch a thousand thinkpieces, but each of them lean into a venerable idea when it comes to the mother of dragons -- the way she is at once attempting to project strength and power, but still quite vulnerable, uncertain, and even frightened at what fate might await her. Emilia Clark does a superb job of showing the many shades of her character as her fortunes wax and wane during her conversation with this new Khal. The promise to transport her to what sounds like the Dothraki homeland is a foreboding one, that threatens to add yet another spot on the map for the show's intro.
The least interesting of the stories in "The Red Woman" centered around the events of Dorne. There's something of a shock to the Sand Snakes' coup at the Dornish palace, but we barely know most of these people, so the impact is blunted. Admittedly, there's intrigue Dorne being ruled by someone who's directly antagonistic to the Lannisters, and to the idea that the people of Dorne resented their leaders and yearn to stand against those who hold sway over King's Landing, but there's more promise in the concept than in the execution thus far. (No pun intended.) Similarly, the hokiest two Sand Snakes taking out the Dornish Prince on the boat only served as a reminder of how pointless he was as a character and how annoying, dare I say Poochie-esque his assassins are.
That said, there was more meat on the bone in Cersei and Jamie's reunion. The excitement in Cersei's voice when she heard of a ship on the horizon and said her daughter's name, and the attendant way her expression slowly but surely fell when she saw the floating shroud heading toward her, and the grave look on her lover's face was devastating. The death of Joffrey brought Cersei to anger, to her most bitter and vindictive, but Marcella's death has a much different effect. She is, instead, simply crestfallen, brought as low as she imagined she could be, slowly but surely losing the most important things in her life. The idea that Marcella perishing is particularly devastating to Cersei because she saw her daughter as pure and good, and it made her feel better about herself and all she's wrought, is one that adds yet more depth to one of the show's most complex characters. Jamie's response that they are neither cursed nor bound by fate, but should respond to this horror by lashing out at those who brought it to their doorstep does more to warrant interest and excitement as to where the conflict with Dorne will lead than all the bloody coups and painful attempts at bon mots that preceded it.
The episode takes time to check in with the rest of those across Westeros and beyond. Arya's still blind and begging on the streets, being tested by Jaqen H'ghar in a bow-fight that seems headed toward a Karate Kid montage. Margaery Tyrell is still in prison, thoroughly cowed and shell shocked after her repeated encounters with her captors. The High Sparrow plays good cop/bad cop with her as she asks how her brother is, with little more than an ominous assurance for her to go on. And even Ramses has a brief moment of humanity, couched though it may be in his usual sadism, as he mourns the loss of the only lover who shared his deranged sensibilities, and feels the blowback from his father for how his extracurricular activities led to the loss of both Sansa and Theon, threatening both the Boltons' hold on Winterfell and Ramses' claim as his father's heir.
But the other major fireworks of "The Red Woman" take place at Castle Black. Ser Davos proves himself both for his kindness, his cunning, and his wits when he collects Jon Snow's dead body, brings in Ghost, and holes up with everyone in a storeroom before sending Edd to rally support among The Wildlings. Davos's dry wit carries the day in these scenes, that still take care to sweep across the desolate environment of The Watch and its guests.
At the same time, Thorne has an impressive moment defending himself in front of his fellow brothers after confessing to the murder of their Lord Commander. As I wrote in my discussion of the Season 5 finale, what makes Thorne's actions and his speech her interesting is that you believe he truly means what he says, that there's a certain noble impulse behind his choice even if it seems foolish or wrongheaded to the audience. Thorne's disdain for Jon Snow has been clear from the beginning, and he admits to the assembled that he had no love lost for the man. But there's something genuine when he says that he never disobeyed an order, that as harsh or self-important as he could be, his assassination, joined in with the other commanders, was about something bigger than him, a tradition and a brotherhood that he saw posed to be destroyed under Jon's care. I don't exactly admire the man, but I admire the show for making him more than the one-dimensional villain he occasionally devolved into in previous episodes.
Finally, there is the titular Red Woman. She sees Jon's dead body and has a moment of questioning. She saw him fighting and Winterfell in her vision, and yet there he lies, white as a stone. She promised Stannis that sacrificing his daughter would lead his side to victory against the Boltons. It becomes much more of a question, smoke monster or not, how much she has or had real power, and how much of her prophecies and persuasions are simply more of her admitted parlor tricks. Then, she undresses and reveals a much older, more withered woman, and the nature of her abilities is at once both more and less a question. It's a revelation, meant to be one of those trademark big moments in Game of Thrones, but for the time being, it just seems strange with little immediately obvious point at this juncture.
Perhaps it simply fits into what appears to be the animating principle for the rest of "The Red Woman" -- giving the audience just enough of a taste to rekindle their interest in the spiderwebbed plots that stretch across Westeros, while pointing us in the direction the balance of the season will follow. The episode feels more like a grand reintroduction, a preview almost, for what's to come than a unified story all it's own, and familiarity with the shape of the series' arcs takes some of the thrill away from events like that closing twist. But it's enough to keep us talking, and wondering, and tuning in next week, so I suppose it'll do just fine.