Game of Thrones is a show that thrives on violence. The visceral thrills of the show, from Ned Stark's beheading to the various battles that have constituted the series' "special event" episodes tell stories, but don't skimp on the swords and sangre to help fill them out. Westeros is a world founded on violence, once where those in power gained it, and kept it, by waging war, and killing, and trafficking in the kind of brutality that wins kingdoms and helps break ratings records.
So when Dany mounts Drogon and leads her tripartite team of dragons to destroy the slavers' fleet, it's new and different since our winged-beast attacks in the show so far have largely been much more limited in scope, but it's also part and parcel with the show's usual M.O. It's a fist-pump moment, not only because it's the first time we've seen all three dragons engage in this type of badassery, but because we believe in Dany and her cause. Flame reigning down from the sky, trying to guarantee that Meereen never again becomes a land of slavers, feels righteous.
But then there's that little voice in the back of your head that says the people on those ships are probably slaves too. Sure, it's a necessary evil, a show of force that is required to ensure the other masters of Slaver's Bay don't get any ideas and think twice before they challenge Dany's regime. Those deaths, however, take on a new light. They're not just the end result of some awe-inspiring dragons; they're human beings consumed by fire and left to die a horrible death.
Then, after an appropriate bit of pre-battle planning at Winterfell and post-battle denouement at Mereen, we get to the titular "Battle of the Bastards." And it's cool to see Jon Snow face the oncoming cavalry only for his own forces to crash into them just as he steps into battle. It's cool to see a fight that we've been promised for so long come to fruition. It's cool to watch as, within this chaos, John takes down enemy soldiers, and Torumund picks him up out of the dirt, and Ser Davos orders his men into the fray.
Then the camera pulls back and you see those piles of bodies. You see people begging for help and being trampled over. You see people flanked on three sides by spears and shields and blocked in the other by the amassed dead. You see behind Jon Snow's eyes as he begins to suffocate amid the bloody tumult around him. You see people grasping at their own viscera, the blood spilled all around, the crying suffering men in a mass of black and gray and red where friend cannot be distinguished from foe. This is not a triumph. This is not simply some thrill. This is hell on earth, and a horrific price for any of them to have to pay to resolve this conflict.
At the end of it, Jon Snow pummels the dastard Ramsay into the ground, leaving him gurgling in his own fluids. But the man is not dead. Sansa goes to visit him in captivity. He taunts her one last time, but Sansa stands there stonefaced, confronting the man who caused her unimaginable suffering. She aims for a little poetic justice, as Ramsay's starving dogs are turned against their master. This too is a horrible death, as we see his hounds chomp his face. The camera zooms close onto Ramsays hands as they drip with blood. Sansa turns away from the carnage, but the hint of a smile emerges on her face as she walks away.
Ramsay's words carry. "I am a part of you now." Sansa has been through so much. She has been under the bootheel, nearly driven into the ground, by so many cruel lords and ladies. She has been abused, manipulated, tortured, and lived through it. She is not, however, unscathed. How long can you commit violence on someone, can you show them that this is how the world works, that no one can protect anyone, until they take it to heart. How long can they witness such horrors, can they experience such tragedies until the abyss starts to take hold of them. Westeros is a harsh world, and perhaps the greatest indignity it imposes on those within its borders is how it makes them just as harsh, just as cruel, just as mired in the muck and the blood as those who inflicted it upon them.
"Battle of the Bastards" is a tremendous episode of Game of Thrones. It features some of the best shot, best directed, and best edited action scenes the show has ever done, that rivals many of its blockbuster Hollywood brethren. It keeps those conflicts meaningful, rooted in the characters we've come to know and their goals, inclinations, and motivations that we've witnessed over the past several years. But it also gradually invites you to recoil from the violence that in many ways has fueled the series. There are moments of joy, of excitement, of success that the audience is supposed to feel a sort of cathartic relief and happiness at. Dany is back in power; Winterfell belongs to the Starks once more, and Ramsay is dead.
But there is much talk in the episode of the hidden cost of all this. Tyrion warns Daenerys how her father aimed to kill the loyal and the rebellious alike. Jon asks not to be brought back again if he is killed, not to have to face more of this horror is it's meant to fell him once and for all. And Sansa makes a deal with the man who led her to such harm, and takes a moment to revel in the cruelty of her abuser's demise. Each of these leaders has a righteous cause. Each of them has legitimate grievances, noble reasons, and pragmatic motivations for why they do what they do. Each of them, however, also takes a step toward being what they hope to stamp out. As Sansa feels her soul darken just a bit, halfway across the world, Daenerys declares that the old regime is done, and that a new age will come. The regime being left behind is one built on those piles of dead bodies that seem so horrific. It is soaked in the blood of the righteous and evil alike. Let us simply hope that it does not stain those who would carry a new banner and break from the past before they have the power to do so, and instead find themselves perpetuating the wheel that has ground so many into the dirt, rather than breaking it.
Review by Andrew BloomVIP 9BlockedParentSpoilers2016-06-20T05:28:31Z
Game of Thrones is a show that thrives on violence. The visceral thrills of the show, from Ned Stark's beheading to the various battles that have constituted the series' "special event" episodes tell stories, but don't skimp on the swords and sangre to help fill them out. Westeros is a world founded on violence, once where those in power gained it, and kept it, by waging war, and killing, and trafficking in the kind of brutality that wins kingdoms and helps break ratings records.
So when Dany mounts Drogon and leads her tripartite team of dragons to destroy the slavers' fleet, it's new and different since our winged-beast attacks in the show so far have largely been much more limited in scope, but it's also part and parcel with the show's usual M.O. It's a fist-pump moment, not only because it's the first time we've seen all three dragons engage in this type of badassery, but because we believe in Dany and her cause. Flame reigning down from the sky, trying to guarantee that Meereen never again becomes a land of slavers, feels righteous.
But then there's that little voice in the back of your head that says the people on those ships are probably slaves too. Sure, it's a necessary evil, a show of force that is required to ensure the other masters of Slaver's Bay don't get any ideas and think twice before they challenge Dany's regime. Those deaths, however, take on a new light. They're not just the end result of some awe-inspiring dragons; they're human beings consumed by fire and left to die a horrible death.
Then, after an appropriate bit of pre-battle planning at Winterfell and post-battle denouement at Mereen, we get to the titular "Battle of the Bastards." And it's cool to see Jon Snow face the oncoming cavalry only for his own forces to crash into them just as he steps into battle. It's cool to see a fight that we've been promised for so long come to fruition. It's cool to watch as, within this chaos, John takes down enemy soldiers, and Torumund picks him up out of the dirt, and Ser Davos orders his men into the fray.
Then the camera pulls back and you see those piles of bodies. You see people begging for help and being trampled over. You see people flanked on three sides by spears and shields and blocked in the other by the amassed dead. You see behind Jon Snow's eyes as he begins to suffocate amid the bloody tumult around him. You see people grasping at their own viscera, the blood spilled all around, the crying suffering men in a mass of black and gray and red where friend cannot be distinguished from foe. This is not a triumph. This is not simply some thrill. This is hell on earth, and a horrific price for any of them to have to pay to resolve this conflict.
At the end of it, Jon Snow pummels the dastard Ramsay into the ground, leaving him gurgling in his own fluids. But the man is not dead. Sansa goes to visit him in captivity. He taunts her one last time, but Sansa stands there stonefaced, confronting the man who caused her unimaginable suffering. She aims for a little poetic justice, as Ramsay's starving dogs are turned against their master. This too is a horrible death, as we see his hounds chomp his face. The camera zooms close onto Ramsays hands as they drip with blood. Sansa turns away from the carnage, but the hint of a smile emerges on her face as she walks away.
Ramsay's words carry. "I am a part of you now." Sansa has been through so much. She has been under the bootheel, nearly driven into the ground, by so many cruel lords and ladies. She has been abused, manipulated, tortured, and lived through it. She is not, however, unscathed. How long can you commit violence on someone, can you show them that this is how the world works, that no one can protect anyone, until they take it to heart. How long can they witness such horrors, can they experience such tragedies until the abyss starts to take hold of them. Westeros is a harsh world, and perhaps the greatest indignity it imposes on those within its borders is how it makes them just as harsh, just as cruel, just as mired in the muck and the blood as those who inflicted it upon them.
"Battle of the Bastards" is a tremendous episode of Game of Thrones. It features some of the best shot, best directed, and best edited action scenes the show has ever done, that rivals many of its blockbuster Hollywood brethren. It keeps those conflicts meaningful, rooted in the characters we've come to know and their goals, inclinations, and motivations that we've witnessed over the past several years. But it also gradually invites you to recoil from the violence that in many ways has fueled the series. There are moments of joy, of excitement, of success that the audience is supposed to feel a sort of cathartic relief and happiness at. Dany is back in power; Winterfell belongs to the Starks once more, and Ramsay is dead.
But there is much talk in the episode of the hidden cost of all this. Tyrion warns Daenerys how her father aimed to kill the loyal and the rebellious alike. Jon asks not to be brought back again if he is killed, not to have to face more of this horror is it's meant to fell him once and for all. And Sansa makes a deal with the man who led her to such harm, and takes a moment to revel in the cruelty of her abuser's demise. Each of these leaders has a righteous cause. Each of them has legitimate grievances, noble reasons, and pragmatic motivations for why they do what they do. Each of them, however, also takes a step toward being what they hope to stamp out. As Sansa feels her soul darken just a bit, halfway across the world, Daenerys declares that the old regime is done, and that a new age will come. The regime being left behind is one built on those piles of dead bodies that seem so horrific. It is soaked in the blood of the righteous and evil alike. Let us simply hope that it does not stain those who would carry a new banner and break from the past before they have the power to do so, and instead find themselves perpetuating the wheel that has ground so many into the dirt, rather than breaking it.