“Mockingbird”
may’ve been the kindest episode in the history of Game of Thrones. The
episode’s kindness is tinged with brutality, uncomfortable truths, murder, but
kindness lasts in every scene. Westeros is a truly shitty place to live. Well,
the south may have its advantages. King’s Landing and northward, though, is
nearly complete shit. Arya and The Hound wandered into the yard of a homeowner.
Arya wonders about soldiers inside the house. The Hound walks forward,
evidently unconcerned about soldiers. Sitting up, supported by a solid object,
is a man recently stabbed in the gut. When asked why he hasn’t ended his
suffering already, he responds, “Habit, I guess.” There’s a sweetly sad
conversation between the dying man and Arya Stark. Arya reads into his words
meaning about the nothing of nothing keeping one going even when that something
is painful. She tells him her secret that she’s a Stark child, and the man
doesn’t know the Starks, mistaking The Hound for her father. The scene shows a
merciful kindness in two ways: Arya’s conversation with him, and The Hound
mercifully ending his suffering with a stab through the heart. The scene also
shows the wide effects of the war. The viewer follows many characters in many
places, but each character in each place has a personal stake (or had) in the
war of the five kings. Arya’s and The Hound’s meeting with the dying man shows
that people without any clue about the houses and the conflicts pay a very
final price regardless.
The episode
doesn’t continue to introduce anonymous characters living in war-torn lands.
David Benioff and D.B. Weiss return to the personal internal world of Westeros
where the names of Stark, Lannister, etc., are well known. Tyrion needs a
champion for his trial-by-combat after Jaime and Bronn pass on the opportunity.
Jaime can’t fight with his left hand, and Cersei bought Bronn with a bride and
land. Tyrion explained his actions during the trial to Jaime after Jaime
wonders why his brother decided against saving his own life with admittance of
guilt. Tyrion reminds his brother of his innocence, and of his own brother’s
complicity in far worse crimes than the one Tyrion’s accused of, to which Jaime
expresses hurt and a re-phrasing of his brother’s particular sentiments. Prince
Oberyn visits Tyrion last, after Tyrion’s most trusted men left him for dead.
Oberyn tells him a story of the time he met him, days after his birth. Stories
traveled from Casterly Rock to Dorne about Tywin’s monster child. The camera
fixes on Tyrion during the most stinging and searing parts of Oberyn’s memory.
Tyrion had a red eye, a tale between his legs, two reproductive organs, and
Cersei referred to her brother as the monster who killed his mother. Peter
Dinklage never portrayed Tyrion better, with the sadness, tragedy, pain, and,
also, the rigidity in his manner, the determination to not break from Oberyn’s
terrible words from a terrible memory, the bitter knowledge that his sister
will get what she wants because Cersei also gets what she wants. Oberyn wants
something, too: justice for his family, and so he will champion for Tyrion
against The Mountain. The groundswell of emotion that bubbled under Tyrion’s
less-than-steely resolve bursts in a string of sounds mixing shock, surprise,
and, of course, relief. Oberyn didn’t intend to further wound the already
wounded Tyrion Lannister wth his memory; rather, he meant to show Tyrion
someone in the world saw him as Tyrion sees himself, and that someone’s willing
to fight for him, for the reasons already stated, and also because he’s not a
monster. The viewer already has a fresh image of The Mountain in his or head
during that scene. The Mountain disemboweled three men in 10 seconds. He’s the
Lannister’s champion. Juxtaposed with The Mountain’s violence is Tyrion’s depth
of thought, honesty of heart; but there’s an almost sinister quality to the
beginning of the Oberyn/Tyrion scene: Tyrion’s covered in darkness, mostly on
his left side, until the door opens, letting in light that lights the rest of
him, suggesting that Oberyn may save him or that he’ll become that monster.
The following
scene(s) synthesizes the central stuff of the episode. Sansa uses snow to build
Winterfell. George R.R. Martin has not surpassed the descriptive beauty and
power of Sansa’s solitary re-construction of Winterfell from her mind in the
books. The show cannot hope to match the power of the written word painting the
scene. Robin ruins Sansa’s solitary moment of reflection and tribute to her
home. Sansa indulges the insane child by offering to include a moon door in
Winterfell. Robin knocks down the tower, and then destroys her entire snow
Winterfell with his feet because she told him he ruined it. Her kindness had a
negative affect. Littlefinger approaches her after Robin leaves, crying,
because Sansa slapped him for his behavior. Littlefinger reflects on the idea
of re-making what others have ruined by ruining what’s been made, or something
like that. Littlefinger seems to make up anything to get to the moment he can
kiss her with any sort of subtext, which he does, before pushing his bride out
of the Eyrie, through the moon door. Lysa wanted to murder Sansa for daring to
kiss her husband, the man she killed for, the man for whom she’d do anything.
George R.R. Martin never really returned to the brilliance of that chapter in
the books. It begins so beautifully in the snow and ends with the greatest plot
twist in the entire books (which the show broke apart) that re-frames the
entire series for the reader and, hopefully, for the viewer (the last 3
episodes).
Other Thoughts:
-I probably
could’ve kept writing more and more paragraphs, but the night matures by the
second. There’s a rare bright spot unmarred: Hot Pie gives Brienne a lead about
Arya Stark, and then asks her to give Arya a pie in the shape of a direwolf. Fantastic.
-The most
interesting scene of the episode—and I apologize for using the banal word ‘interesting’—was
the one with Melisandre and Lady Selyse. The contrasts of the scene stood out.
Melisandre bathing freely, sensual and sexy, while Lady Selyse stand far from
her, unable for a second to be as free and sensual and sexy. Melisandre spoke
to the Lady about the potions that trick men into seeing the truth. Each potion
serves a purpose—to help a man with his virility or bravery. Melisandre points
Selyse to the flames, free of tricky potions, explaining that she needn’t trick
her mind to see. The scene cuts before Lady Selyse sees what Melisandre in the
flames. Shireen will join them wherever they go next.
-David Benioff
and D.B. Weiss wrote the episode. Alik Sakharov directed.
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