[rating=9.00] “The Door”
Since debuting in 2011, over the course of five-and-a-half slow (to medium) paced seasons, it’s been easy to forget that, like the Song of Ice and Fire books they’re based on, Game of Thrones has an endgame in mind. After so many years of royal squabbling, backstabbings (both figurative and literal), and countless murders, Game of Thrones simply became a part of our pop-culture vernacular. Then, every so often, it goes out of its way to pull the rug out from under viewers.
Last night’s example was such an unexpected mixture of the banal and the profound, the incidental and the tremendously consequential it almost singularly realigned all speculations that the show was begin to run aground, that it had been talked about and hashtagged to death, completely void of any ability to shock its audience. And it could do so by coupling an eye-opening revelation with both shock and heartache that a direwolf can go down and it’s not the saddest moment in the entire scene.
“You freed me from monsters that murdered my family, then gave me to other monsters who murdered my family.”
Littlefinger arrives at Molestown, just south of Castle Black to a none-too-happy Sansa, who chooses to not reveal what Ramsay had done to her, but rather stand there making Littlefinger say them himself. For the first time, it seems that Littlefinger’s schemes may start to become unraveled, as he’s faced with the realization that there are too many pieces at play for him to remain in absolute control of.
Still, he manages to scheme his way out of the room by telling Sansa of her great uncle’s army that’s overtaken Riverrun, promising it to be an army loyal to her. As Sansa responds, speaking of the army of Wildlings loyal to Jon Snow, he calls them “her brothers army…” before dropping the “half brother” on his way out the door.
While she keeps Littlefinger’s presence a secret, she formulates a worthwhile plan to help rally the lesser northern houses and has a dynamite exchange about her familial pride to Ser Davos. Still, splitting up with Brienne seems like a terrible idea, although she does get major points this week for calling out Jon’s mopey behavior.
“A servant does not ask questions.”
Speaking of the show and its going-on six seasons, enough time has passed within the show’s world that the events of the show’s first season, the death of Robert Baratheon, and the ascension (and later betrayal) of Ned Stark become mythology unto themselves.
Arya, once more given a second chance to become one of the Faceless Men, is tasked with poisoning an actress. In doing so, she watches her father’s execution for a second time, this time as a garish dramatization, complete with fart jokes, for a bunch of peasants. She also gets yet another reminder for Jaqen of her place
“There are many things we’ve never done.”
So, the Ironborn, aside from being the one storyline everyone seems to care about the least, are the absolute worst. After getting immediately persuaded by Yara, the rightful heir to the salt throne, despite being a woman, they get talked into backing the guy who murdered his brother, who was also their old king.
Still, credit where credit’s due, Euron’s baptism intercut with Yara and Theon leading a large-scale evacuation, was incredibly well done. It begs the question where they’ll be taking their fleet, and how far they’ll get. Though Euron’s plan of “let’s start building a new fleet now” seems like it’ll set his offensive back a bit.
Also, their crown is just some driftwood. The Ironborn are the goddamn worst.
“So I can’t take you back, and I can’t send you away.”
Big reveal: Jorah has greyscale. He’s semi-banished until he can find a cure. It’s meant to pull at the heartstrings but was a bit anticlimactic after her taking control of the Dothraki last week.
“Our queen has an even better story.”
Varys doesn’t trust anyone, least of all religious types, and as he calls out Kinvera over another red-priestess’s misguided prophecy over Stannis Baratheon. She responds to his shade by throwing some right back, specifically the exact moment from his childhood that he was made a eunuch.
Although, with everything going on right now, particularly its amping of of the fantastic elements, introducing another priestess into the already stagnant Meereen storyline seems unnecessary. Even if it’ll be interesting to see how being around dragons will effect her magic, and vice versa.
(Also, what’s up with the other two dragons?)
“Hold the door.”
So, Bran’s storyline, which runs neck-and-neck with the Ironborn’s as far as ‘least interesting’ really came into play in a big way this week. First, the creation of the White Walkers at the hands of the Children of the Forest, which in itself was huge, knowing they were brought about to stop the very existence of the first men.
Second, Bran goes off on a vision quest of his own, back at the tree where the White Walkers were created, now covered in snow and surrounded by an army of the undead, and touched by the Night’s King. The Three Eyed Raven makes it clear under no uncertain terms that this is absolutely catastrophic.
Not entirely catastrophic, as after the warning, he takes Bran on another journey to days of Winterfell’s past, this time when Ned, then a young boy, goes to squire for John Arryn. During this vision, Meera goes out to find a massive army of the undead outside waiting for them.
At this point, it was pretty clear that things were going to go badly, but no one was prepared for just how upsetting this was going to be.
As the dead storm the cave from every angle, Bran’s stuck in the past, and Hodor sits there rocking back and forth. Then, as the narrative jumps back and forth from the present to the past, the dead slowly start to overtake the cave, while in the past, Wyllis starts to see Bran. Back at the cave, as Meera pulls Bran outside, she commands Hodor to hold the door, which echoes into Bran’s vision of the past.
What results isn’t simply the tragic death of a beloved character, but an origin story at the same time, the completion of a story arc that we weren’t aware we needed, but gave one of the most complexly satisfying, and ultimately human moments in the show’s run.
