but if u wanna visit anyway & see pretty pictures...
Let's be clear: "Game of Thrones" has often benefited greatly from working off of George R. R. Martin's source material, "A Song of Ice and Fire". There have been plenty of moments from the books that have created riveting, powerful television (specifically, big brutal twists like "The Rains of Castamere" and "Baelor" come to mind). The world of the books is rich and full of compelling dramatic content, and the show is better for it.
However, in the most recent seasons of the show, we have seen the good and bad of deviating from the books. The bad looks like a full season of Sansa being robbed of agency as she is raped and tortured in Winterfell by Ramsay Bolton (something
I wrote about a couple weeks ago). The good, though, looks like last season's "Hardhome", where the show started teasing out its endgame amidst cinematic battles with little reveals along the way. And as we've moved well past book territory in Season 6, we've caught a glimpse of the show's strengths as a standalone (Ramsay Bolton problems not withstanding).
The show has a great advantage of being able to respond to its own criticisms in a way that empowers the narrative and the critical discussion around the show as a cultural icon. Plenty of think pieces were written last season about Sansa's troublesome stay in Winterfell (
my favorite was by Sonia Saraiya over at A.V. Club), but most of them maintained a sense of cautious optimism: perhaps later story beats would retroactively explain the controversial decisions. On the one hand, we may never know how much of this week's
de facto
apology from the writers was pre-planned. On the other hand, I think a big advantage the show has over the books is to be able to engage in that dialogue in nearly real time. When Littlefinger shows up to try and continue his manipulative ways with Sansa, she immediately shows resolve. Sansa Stark has had enough - and she forces Littlefinger to uncomfortably describe the real pain in what she experienced. It's uncomfortable not only to him, but to the audience watching at home. And yet, it's also meta-catharsis because we finally get to see that Sansa's woes were not purely for shock value and instead left a mark on her character, one that lead to the disruption of Littlefinger's plots and machinations. It leads to Sansa deceiving her brother, because the emotional scars left on her at the hands of Ramsay aren't worth Davos and Jon's pragmatism. Sure, maybe having the force of the Vale at her back would help -- but Sansa isn't willing to dehumanize herself for that. It may be my cynicism affecting my views again, but I suspect that without the real-time feedback the show affords, Sansa wouldn't have gotten her moment to stand strong. I still think Littlefinger's Vale army will wind up helping them, in the end. But it is a very important distinction between Sansa accepting the Vale's help and Sansa refusing it on moral grounds.
Other parts of the episode are great, if muted by comparison. The Kingsmoot supplies us with a wildly different set of events from the books. Euron Greyjoy is a menacing antagonist here, whereas his presence at the Kingsmoot in the books is grounded with a bit more extravagance from the character. Theon and Yara's quick escape contrasted with Euron's baptism had me second-guessing myself. It would be just like the showrunners to bring in a beloved book character only to have him actually drown, cutting to the quick twist that Yara had actually claimed the seastone chair. Euron's first words after "resurrection" leave no doubt as to his place in this story: he wants to murder Theon and Yara, two characters who have honestly earned their place in the audience's hearts by now. I can't imagine Euron's campaign will be successful, but we shall see.
Arya Stark's training with the Faceless Men proves to be a troubling point for me this season. On the one hand, it has been everyone's dream to see Arya become a badass assassin since she was first given Needle way back in Season 1. On the other hand, Arya's storyline is sort of treading water at this point. We saw her get beaten and bloodied for a couple weeks at the start of this season, and it was punctuated with a great-if-not-cliched training montage last week where she seemingly had ascended to a new level of training. The Faceless Men scenes are becoming slightly too obscured by their own mandated obscurity. The Waif handedly beats Arya in a duel during training and proclaims that she will never become one of them. In the next scene, Jaqen H'ghar is sending out Arya on a mission, thinking she is ready to become No-One. While it may prove to be true to the cult's principles, it makes for incredibly frustrating television to watch Arya take two steps forward and one step backwards. We get to see Arya experience a play that reenacts the first three seasons of the show, but it feels all too redundant. It was only two seasons ago, during Joffrey and Margarey's wedding, that we saw a similar farcical play make light of the events of the show, and I don't feel that the play does anything different here, even in the context of Arya's viewing.
Meanwhile, in Mereen, Tyrion finally gets some catharsis, as minor as it may be. It seems his deal with the Masters has worked, and peace has come to Mereen. Grey Worm and Missandei are still skeptical, but it's nice to see Tyrion finally get a small victory after two seasons of meandering. However, Varys and the Red Priestess share a scene that steals the show, where Varys has his nightmarish castration recounted in explicit detail by the Priestess. Conleth Hill's facial expressions are delightful, and he really sells the simultaneous fear and awe that the show has attributed to the Lord of Light. Even when Varys recounts the way Melisandre fails, this new prophet shuts him down with proof of the Red God's power. It's clear that at this point, the show wants us to know that this religion isn't some hokey religion like the Faith of the Seven. The Lord of Light has power, and it's enough to make even Varys the Skeptic shake in his boots. Oh, also, Daenerys Targaryen commands Jorah to find a cure -- boring. The sooner we get back to Dany conquering stuff, the better. Her detour this season has not felt well earned, other than getting gimpses of how far Dany is willing to go for what she feels is right (and undoubtedly purposefully paralleling her father, The Mad King).
And all of that brings us to Bran, whose story finally reaches a head in this episode. After weeks of being proverbially cockblocked by the Three-Eyed Raven, Bran decides to take matters into his own hand and experience a vision for himself. Unfortunately, he runs head first into the Night's King, who has some kind of similar power and manages to grab a hold of Bran. When Bran awakens, he is marked by ice, and that spells bad news for everyone resting at the Tree. Rather than put us off another week, "Game of Thrones" dives directly into the assault on the Heart Tree. This sequence is classic "Game of Thrones" storytelling as we jump directly from Meera and Hodor's heartwarming conversation discussing breakfast into a truly life or death matter. It is admittedly frustrating that, even in his final moments, the Three-Eyed Raven refuses to give up any information that may prove crucial to our (and Bran's) understanding of the show's greater story. But through Bran, the show is able to produce one of the most heart-wrenching moments since Season 3's "The Rains of Castamere".
"Hold the door" has been a long-speculated, mostly-tin-foil fan theory regarding Hodor's true name and backstory. This week, the show jumped directly into that story, and we see Hodor's death at the hands of the White Walkers. Bran's "time travel" powers are not fully explained. But it is ever appropriate that Jack Bender (famous for his direction on "Lost") directed this episode. Whatever happened, happened -- and that means that Hodor's lifetime of ridicule and torment and simplicity came at the hands of the person he was sworn to protect. This the moment when "Game of Thrones" truly shows what an advantage the visual medium has over the books. As the show cuts wildly between Bran in his flashback and Hodor in the present, the tragedy of the situation becomes clearer. Willym became Hodor due to Bran's mistakes, and in the end, his destiny is to be consumed by the undead horde to save the life of the person who enslaved his feeble mind in the first place. It is brutal and sad in a way that "Game of Thrones" has not achieved in a very long time. Hodor was pure of heart, and perhaps one of the last remaining characters to make a claim to that title. But without the visual overlay between young Willym and present Hodor, the scene may have lost its impact.
"Game of Thrones" is clearly heading into its final stretch, and in abandoning the books, it has been allowed to find the right path for the story in a serialized television medium. As the show cuts down on characters and unifies storylines, it is becoming clear that the endgame is nigh. While the books may have the luxury of exploring minor subplots and characters in a gratifying way, the show only has roughly 20 hours of television left to tell this story. The need to streamline the plot is actually paying off dividends for the show, and it's all the better for abandoning the books.