Published
0 132 0
The Trial This episode races ineluctably towards a single point of conflict: the trial by combat to decide the fate of Tyrion Lannister. Fighting for Tyrion is Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne, and against him is Gregor “The Mountain” Clegane: "The Mountain and The Viper" of the title. We're treated to one visit to Tyrion's cell before the fight, where he dispenses some of his trademark erudite gallows humor (which, for my money, compares favorably to that deployed by Hamlet and Vladimir/Estragon), where he educates us on the various specific descriptive words that exist for k**ing one's different relations (starting, of course, with “suicide”), and then muses on his inability to understand why his “simple” Cousin Olsen spent all of his time bashing beetles with rocks. The significance of the story is hard to pin down, but it seems to gesture towards the futility of existence– a subject on which Tyrion is always eloquent. The fight itself is brilliantly choreographed– like the series itself, it would seem fairly ridiculous without such meticulous production values– and features a lithe, acrobatic Oberyn running rings around the meathead Clegane. His theatrics please the crowd, and the action is well interspersed with telling expressions from the onlooking crowd– we see Jaime and Tyrion's eyes light up as Oberyn floors Clegane, then slowly begin to droop as it appears he wants to do more than just win the fight. Oberyn wants a confession from Clegane (which he eventually gets), but as we know, this in itself won't change anything. Clegane is just a key to unlock his real target. What Oberyn really wants is to indict Tywin Lannister for ordering Clegane to commit the crimes he did; he's fully aware that Clegane is merely a tool. This showboating, dancing around Clegane whilst pointing at Tywin and demanding “Who gave you the order?”, doesn't go unnoticed by the crowd, but it gives Clegane a window of opportunity. He trips Oberyn, knocks pretty well all of his teeth out with one punch, crushes his head like a melon, then collapses. The gore is difficult to take, probably because it isn't especially gratuitous. The camera pans way up into the sky as we see, let's face it, our hero's mutilated head. It's also symbolic of the essence of Westeros: evil, violent, unnatural crime begets evil, violent, unnatural crime. As Tyrion told Oberyn in the previous episode: If you want justice, you've come to the wrong place. Love and Loss in Essos Daenerys's nascent kingdom in Merreen is the site of a new relationship blossoming, and an old one being sundered. The General-elect of the Unsullied, Grey Worm, looks at a naked Missandei as she bathes with the other females in the lake. It's voyeuristic and a bit creepy, obviously, but we're kind of rooting for Grey Worm: he has never been anything but a loyal and professional general to Daenerys (compare Daario Naharis), and, well, he was castrated as an infant. Missandei and Dany discuss whether the Unsullied's castration involves “the pillar and the stones”, and later, as Grey Worm apologizes, Missandei reciprocates his interest. It's a tender scene which reminds us that love can conquer even the utterly messed up and immoral social structures of Game of Thrones. Afterwards, Ser Barristan Selmy is given a letter which turns out to be a Royal pardon for Jorah Mormont, from the previous King, Robert Baratheon. Daenerys quickly gets to the bottom of it, deducing that Jorah was spying on her for Robert, whom, lest we forget, wanted to destroy all remnant of the Targaryen dynasty to cement his place on the Iron Throne. Dany exiles Jorah rather than execute him, and it seems like she's lost one of her most experienced and dedicated advisors. She seemed to be holding them in perfect equilibrium an episode ago– and as Jorah probably accurately surmises, the letter could have been sent by Tywin Lannister to drive her retinue apart. Ramsay Bolton, né Snow This is a good episode for Ramsay Snow. Previously the ba*tard son of Roose Bolton, Warden of the North, his efforts have earned him legitimacy, and his father bestows his surname on him, as well as the inheritance to the title of Warden of the North. Ramsay managed to get Moat Cailin to surrender by sending Reek in to “impersonate" Theon Greyjoy. While Reek biologically is Theon Greyjoy, his spirit is so broken that he doesn't do a very good job impersonating the confident Lord, and he's almost rumbled by Ralf Kenning, before he receives an ax in the back of the head by one of his own men trying to save his skin. Naturally, he ends of up flayed by Ramsay (the banner of the Boltons is the flayed man), but having Reek impersonate Theon seems like a risky long-term strategy. Confusion at the Eyrie Lord Petyr “Littlefinger” Baelish is being question by the elders of the Eyrie over the d**h of Lysa, which he claims was a suicide. They're not convinced, until Sansa is called as a witness, apologizes to Littlefinger, and sheds her fake identity of Alayne. She then unveils a deviously planned monologue which corroborates Littlefinger's story and seems to firmly cement their relationship: as all good liars know, recanting an old lie is excellent cover for telling a new one. Later, she descends the stairs in the Eyrie with darkened hair and a decidedly more mature look. Wherever next for this oddest and creepiest of “couples”? As the episode closes, Arya and The Hound finally arrive at the Eyrie, where they've been journeying to in The Hound's hope that he can ransom Arya to her (now deceased) aunt, Lysa. Upon hearing the news, Arya bursts into hysterical laughter; it's a fairly insignificant family d**h compared to the ones she's used to. 100,000 Wildlings At the very beginning of the episode, we're given a reminder that the events we've all been waiting for at King's Landing are actually fairly trivial compared to the coming apocalypse north of the wall. Wildings, featuring Jon Snow's, er, ex, Ygritte, sack Mole's Town, though Ygritte spares Gilly and her child. The Night's Watch discuss how an army of a hundred should prepare to face one of a hundred thousand; they conclude that the last one should burn the bodies so they don't get turned into White Walkers. Newsflash, lads: when you're outnumbered 1,000 to 1, there won't be anyone left to burn them.