Challenging series puts social mores on the stand
Sinister, dark, decaying and yet capable of moments of rare, unexpected beauty, Game of Thrones is that rare exception to the rule that substantive novels rarely make good television.
In its fourth season, which ends Sunday with the episode The Children, Game of Thrones has achieved something quite remarkable. It has tapped into the mainstream audience’s longing for a good story told in a way no other premium cable series has since The Sopranos faded to black in 2007. Game of Thrones’ April 6 season premiere was HBO’s most- watched hour since The Sopranos. And not just on traditional TV. The technology itself has changed: So many viewers tried to access Game of Thrones on HBO’s live mobile app that they crashed the site.
Something more important is happening, though, that numbers alone won’t explain.
Game of Thrones has become part of the public conversation. An April 20 episode, Breaker of Chains, that featured non- consensual sex between grown siblings provoked a heated debate about the show’s depiction of women in general, and the depiction of rape in particular. In an excoriating essay for The Huffington Post, the respected Chicago- based critic Maureen Ryan called the debate illuminating and necessary, and pointed out that Game of Thrones is about the acquisition and exercise of power, and that the writers’ defence of rape as creative licence reflects a culture- wide misunderstanding of what rape is.
That something as simple and basic as a TV entertainment drama should prompt a wider conversation about cultural attitudes and social mores says a lot about how Game of Thrones has transcended its pulp origins. In just four seasons — just 40 hour- long episodes so far — Game of Thrones scenarists Daniel Weiss and David Benioff have adapted George R. R. Martin’s dense, sprawling series of fantasy novels into a linear, coherent narrative that works as both an eyefilling
The writers’ defence of rape as creative licence reflects a culture- wide misunderstanding of what rape is.
visual experience and a classic story about courage, love, honour and duty to a higher cause pitted against greed, envy, temptation and betrayal.
Game of Thrones has the texture and depth of a great novel, with both major and minor characters — so many characters that almost anyone watching will see a small part of themselves reflected back from the screen. Everyone is the hero and heroine of his and her own life story. Anyone watching King Joffrey’s wedding celebration at the season’s outset would have seen themselves as a member of the congregation, a witness to the spectacle. And Game of Thrones is a spectacle to behold, with locations as far flung as Morocco, Iceland, Malta, Croatia, Northern Ireland and, next season, Spain.
It speaks to a wide audience — not just in North America but around the world — because it is an international cast, made for a worldly audience. The series’ composer, Ramin Djawadi, was born in Germany of Persian- Iranian descent; one of the lead directors, Michelle MacLaren, hails from Vancouver; one of the key actors, Nikolaj Coster- Waldau, is from Denmark.
Game of Thrones tells its story of love and betrayal through shifting points of view, while opening viewers’ eyes to the bigger social picture. The themes are grand but the characters’ motives morally ambiguous: Game of Thrones is replete with dark heroes and villains seeking redemption.
Game of Thrones’ makers have resisted the temptation to rely on elaborate, computer- generated effects, despite its visual verve. Vancouver cinematographer Robert McLachlan, who filmed two of the past season’s episodes, said he wanted to know how little light he could get away with while filming the series, not how much.