Leading up to the April 14 premiere of the final, six-episode eighth season of HBO’s massive hit series Game of Thrones, Pop Culture Maniacs will be rewatching the entire series (season by season) and writing on how each season fares in light of all that we know now (and thoughts about how the major plot points that came before might impact the great battles still to come). Each season article will contain spoilers for the entire series through season seven, so you have been warned. Any speculation on what might happen in the upcoming eighth season is merely that: speculation.
Season five was, by a long margin, the worst season I’ve encountered during this rewatch. Yes, there were a number of bright moments (and even a few strong character arcs) that stood out, but, on the whole, most of the season was spent moving the story’s chess pieces a single square. And, with the benefit of standing on the precipice of season eight, many of season five’s story arcs turned out to be largely useless in the overall series arc (or, had such minimal impact that they could have easily been dispensed with).
As I acknowledged in my season four write-up, a lot of the narrative slog in seasons five is a result of David Benioff and D.B. Weiss hoping against hope that George R.R. Martin would get “Winds of Winter” published before the show ran out of book material to use. It was a difficult position to be in, and I certainly understand being as loyal to the existing story as possible, assuming that the characters and story that took up books four and five of the epic series would be important to future events. However, this doesn’t make it any easier to engage with material that ultimately doesn’t matter to the grand story.
Yes, Stannis saved The Watch from getting slaughtered by the Wildlings, but the rest of his arc on the show (which came to a merciful end at the edge of Brienne’s sword in season five) did little to add to the show. Everything about Stannis was awful (aside from the work of Stephen Dillane, who did the best with what he was given). He took his Southern troops into a snowstorm to fight for control of Winterfell (which, again, he couldn’t hold even if he got it). He burned his daughter at the stake to try and appease the Red God (which, naturally, didn’t help). His wife hanged herself in grief. And he got himself killed after watching his men slaughtered by the Boltons. That’s a lot of story to end up with zero Baratheons at the end. The moral of it all? Melisandre made a hell of a miscalculation in thinking Stannis was the Prince who was Promised (we know now that the two best options for this mythic person are Jon and Dany).
Now, most of that narrative was created directly for the series and not found in the source novels. Yes, the show needed to dispense with Stannis somehow (as it has been clear for awhile that he’s not one of the crucial characters for the show’s endgame), but boy, that was a lot of plot to use to get there. A similar argument could be made for the bulk of the Sansa/Theon/Ramsay story in season five. Yes, I suppose Sansa getting raped after being married off to Ramsay could be classified as character development (although it’s incredibly lazy writing). But good god. Did we need an entire season of Ramsay torturing yet another character? And, seeing as he’ll do the same thing in season six, the entire Ramsay arc is just so much wasted narrative.
Full disclosure: I fast-forwarded through nearly every Ramsay scene in season five (and I’ll do the same up until the Battle of the Bastards in season six) because I just don’t want to watch that character reek havoc again. He was a thinly drawn character with zero purpose other than to be a violent psychotic roadblock to characters finding their sense of self. There are much better ways to turn a character like Theon into a broken, but determined man (and to take Sansa from the smart, but politically weak, character to the incredibly savvy woman from season seven) than this, and I so wish the series had resisted the temptation to go all-in on Ramsay the way it did.
I could go on for another 700 words discussing the other arcs that made minimal narrative movement while taking ten episodes to get there (the Meereenese Knot tightened while introducing Tyrion to Dany, and the Faith Militant were largely worthless in the grand scheme of things, save convincing Cersei to take a page out of the Mad King’s book and decide to ultimately burn a chunk of the show’s cast of characters alive in season six), but I want to touch on the two excellent moments in season five: Arya’s initiation into the House of Black and White, and the epic sequence at Hardhome.
I’ve spent a great deal of time complaining about Arya’s stay in the House of Black and White, but I had forgotten how strong her arc in season five was (it’s the stuff in season six that’s largely the problem). So much of who Arya becomes is shaped in season five. She crosses another name off her list (in spectacular fashion), but does so at the expense of abandoning her assigned mission and training (which, frankly, is similar to what happens in season six, which is what makes that season so trying to watch). It’s clear by the end of season five that Arya needs to learn the tools of the Faceless Man trade, but she will never be willing to turn her back on her core identity to fully become No One. I, for one, have no problem with this character turn, as it only serves to make Arya more layered and interesting in the long run. The Arya that will infiltrate The Twins and slaughter the entire Frey familial line is born at the end of season five, and it’s a great thing to watch.
As great as Arya’s arc is, the true gem of season five of Game of Thrones is the siege of Hardhome. What a spectacular piece of television. Everything about this sequence works: the writing, the acting, the cinematography, the set design. It’s, for my money, the most complete sequence Game of Thrones has ever put together. The key to the entire piece is the introduction of the Wildling leader Karsi (played expertly by Danish actor Birgitte Hjort Sørensen). A completely new character, Karsi gets a full character arc in the span of about twenty minutes (for a show that can often be stingy with character development, this single character is proof they can and should have done better with this over the years). We, as the audience, are pretty sure Jon Snow will make it out alive (only to die two episodes later, naturally), but meeting and getting to know this vibrant new character gives us someone new to root for. We already can see that Tormund will be a great ally to the Westerosi moving forward, but just think of what Karsi could have contributed (imagine her fighting alongside Brienne in the final battle). Her arc, and her death, are the first real indication of just how deadly the threat the Night King poses. His army may be comprised of the dead, but if he has skilled fighters like Karsi under his command . . . well, the odds just got a bit longer for our heroes.
Final Thoughts:
— The death of Jon Snow never hit me as hard as it hit some (mostly because, as a book reader, I knew it was coming). I had absolutely no doubt he would rise from the dead (gotta love the Red God’s acolytes, even if Melisandre had some pretty high profile whiffs up until this point in the story). On a rewatch, Jon’s death really only serves as another reason to hate Olly. No matter my complaints with the Jon story arc, the show really managed to turn a kid into a completely reviled character across the board. So, kudos to them for that.
— You know who’s death crushed me? Ser Barristan. Just as awful to watch a second time.
— Meryn Trant’s death was just as sweet this time around. Very few characters have deserved their brutal murder as much as him. Goodbye and good riddance.
— I was hoping the rewatch would have given me a better insight into Littlefinger’s reasoning for giving Sansa to the Boltons, but it didn’t. I’m truly not sure what that particularly power move did to help him out (aside from him needing to head to King’s Landing to check on his destroyed brothels). I cannot believe someone as connected as him wouldn’t have known how horrific Ramsay was (and, even if he didn’t know the full story, tales of his brutality must have reached Petyr at some point). It’s a strange plot hole.
— You likely have deduced, but now, that I’m a big fan of Brienne (loved that Jaime got to see Tarth from a distance on his trip South . . . a really lovely moment), but that doesn’t mean I’m above criticizing her. You had one job, Brienne. She’s awfully bad at protecting people, yet managed to technically fulfill her oaths (to get Arya and Sansa back to Winterfell and to avenge Renly).
— Notice how I didn’t mention Dorne? And that’s all I have to say about that.
