MUST THE SHOW GO ON?

Why I’m giving up on Season 6

Last week, in a power play that would make a Lannister nod with approval, HBO held a private screening of the Game of Thrones Season 6 première — critics were not invited. The logic behind this move is being written off by HBO as an antipiracy measure, which makes some sense given last season’s leaks. But, just as things aren’t always what they seem in the fantastical realm of Westeros, HBO’s explanation also raises some suspicion. Was this really a protectionist move or a defensive play, suggesting that Game of Thrones has finally jumped that proverbial shark?

Such presuppositions are pointless until the show airs later this week, as even Game of Thrones deserves its due process. ( We’re not the High Sparrow and easily quick to condemn.) But HBO’s cagey move did raise a ques- tion that’s been brewing in the back of my mind: now that we’re beyond George R.R. Martin’s original material, what does Game of Thrones have to offer? Based on the teaser trailer, which is largely made up of material from Season 6’s first episode, we’re heading down the same path that was laid out in the previous season. And after watching the trailer — which picks up where audiences were left with the capture of Dany by the Dothraki; Cersei’s nude “walk of shame”; Arya being blinded; Sansa and Theon leaving Winterfell; and, of course, Jon Snow’s death — I was reminded that in comparison to the earlier seasons, that path wasn’t a particularly inspired one.

This explains why ( after dealing with the logical lament of the loss of the beautiful Jon Snow) my reaction was one of apathy bordering on exhaustion. After a few months away from the warring factions and incestuous love affairs, all the characters and drama felt muted, if not fully faded. In fact, I found myself on Wikipedia, poring over the characters’ profiles to refresh my memory when it came to who has killed (and/ or slept with) whom.

In the show’s first few seasons, this need to consult a rubric of sorts was one of its greatest strengths: by staying true to the abundant details in Martin’s novels, the fantastical world became rooted in the realism of particularity. Every character, castle and city had a backstory, so even when dragons started swooping around the skies, there was a certain logic to the entire universe. This level of attention to detail is what separates the good fantasy from the great, and requires a combination of meticulous patience and imagination. As Game of Thrones wore on, both have been wearing thin.

Which brings me back to that lock- and- key screening and what’s to come in this round in the battle for the Iron Throne. Dissent regarding departures from the books have always been present, but they’ve been steadily building ( much like, you might say, Sansa’s desire for revenge). On his blog, Martin has directly addressed the book-to-TV alterations as “the butterfly effect,” where “small changes lead to larger changes lead to huge changes.” While he’s been supportive of creators David Benioff and D.B. Weiss’s work in translating his saga for the small screen, he’s also said of the modifications, “Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons.” But based on how things are going, he might have been more apt in noting that sometimes butterflies are just moths.

Six seasons in, I’m losing patience with the reliance on sexposition and with the dubious racial and gender politics. But most of all, what keeps me glued to a show, even when the content shifts from camp to crap, are the conversations around it. The discussions around Game of Thrones were at times more interesting than what was happening on the show. I wanted to be a part of them, a reminder that even when we watch TV alone, it’s very much a social habit. We look forward to talking, texting and tweeting about what we watch ( as Marshall McLuhan said, it’s a cool medium that requires high participation).

After the last season, participating in Game of Thrones has increasingly felt like a chore and the conversations have decreased in quality. Where once you might find yourself in a fevered debate about the depiction of rape, last season merely used rape as a plot point. Across the board, the show began to feel less ambitious, less creative, and more constrained by the sheer size of the cast of characters — running through that rubric isn’t all that fun anymore.

I’m generally a TV completist (sticking with the likes of West Wing, Oz and Sons of Anarchy until the bitter end) but the return on investment on Game of Thrones has been decreasing steadily. I feel like I’m abandoning Maisie Williams and Peter Dinklage, but I’m also certain I’ll be seeing them again soon — and in something that’s really worth talking about.

EVEN WHEN DRAGONS STARTED SWOOPING AROUND, THERE WAS A CERTAIN LOGIC