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1.8 “The Pointy End”
Written by George
R.R. Martin
Directed by Daniel
Minahan
Commentary by George
R.R. Martin
Traditionally, the pacing of each season of Game of Thrones has had seven or eight
episodes of build-up, then two or three explosive episodes that bring to a head
all the planning and conniving and troop movement that the first ¾ of the
season spent setting up. That tradition begins here, as the season moves quickly
towards its ultimate climax.
“The Pointy End,” of course, refers to Jon’s instruction to
Arya way back in episode two that the first rule of swordfighting is to “stick
them with the pointy end.” But since Arya only appears in about the first five
minutes of the episode—during which she does, indeed, stick someone with the
pointy end—clearly there’s more to the phrase than just Arya using Needle.
There’s a lot of sharpness going on in this episode, not all of it dealing with
steel.
The episode opens immediately after the close of the last
episode, with Lannister and Stark guardsmen fighting in the halls, Stark
servants being slaughtered, and Arya and Sansa so far completely oblivious to
the commotion. The fighting is intercut with Arya training with Syrio, which
hearkens back to episode three, when Ned watched Arya’s first lesson and heard
real steel clashing over it. He was aware of the dangers of King’s Landing, but
probably had no idea he’d bring the danger on himself. Syrio protects Sansa
from the Lannister guardsmen, giving her time to escape the city through the
dungeons, and Mordane faces down another batch of Lannister guardsmen, giving
Sansa time to run to her room and get grabbed by Sandor Clegane (less helpful,
but still brave). On her way out, Arya grabs Needle, then makes her first kill,
mostly by accident—she has the sword in her hand and turns around quickly and
it ends up in the stableboy’s belly. (Like Martin, I miss the plaintive “Take
it out” that the boy had in the book; he’s not sure why they removed it from
his script.)
Similar sharpness is happening at the Wall, though it’s less
effective than Arya’s. The bodies of two of Benjen’s rangers have been hauled
in, and there’s something distinctly wrong with them—as Jon discovers when they
get up and try to attack Mormont. Jon stabs one of them several times,
including putting his sword clear through Othor’s belly, in the same place Arya
stabbed the stableboy, but Othor doesn’t die. It takes Jon throwing a lantern
at him and setting him on fire for him to die. Again.
Steel is also drawn in Winterfell, where Robb, upon hearing
of Ned’s arrest, has called the northern bannermen and is preparing to march on
King’s Landing to demand Ned’s release. Greatjon Umber doesn’t like that Robb’s
the boss, and he really doesn’t like that Robb doesn’t intend to put him in
charge of the vanguard. Greatjon draws his dagger in a rage, and Grey Wind
takes off two of his fingers for him, leading to this wonderful exchange:
Robb: My lord father taught me it was death to bare steel against your liege lord. But doubtless the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me.
Greatjon: Your meat! . . . Is bloody tough. (Video)
(One of my favorites in the books, as well.)
Finally, both steel and blood are in evidence in the
Dothraki Sea, where Drogo has begun raiding villages to gather valuables and
slaves so he can hire ships to sail to Westeros. Daenerys isn’t impressed with
the conduct of the khalasar, and
orders Rakharo to make the others stop abusing the women. (Interestingly,
though rape is implied, it’s only
implied; no actual rape is shown on screen here.) She claims all of the
captured women as her own, which angers Mago, one of the bloodriders, who
complains to Drogo. Drogo thinks it’s adorable that Dany’s standing up for
herself and attributes her newfound inner strength to his son, “the Stallion
who Mounts the World,” growing in her womb. When Mago decides Drogo’s affection
for Dany is a sign of weakness and challenges him for leadership of the khalasar, we finally get to see why
Drogo’s braid has never been cut. Martin points out that this fight wasn’t
originally in the script; Mago was supposed to live through at least season
five. But Jason Momoa pointed out that while we keep hearing about what a
fearsome warrior Drogo is, we never get to see him in action, so they rewrote
this section to include the fight. It also moves the wound that ultimately
kills Drogo to the screen, rather than it being a random cut he picked up on
the field, and makes it his own fault, as he intimidates Mago by flexing into
the arakh then pushing him backward
by walking into it. He then shows off by dropping his daggers and dancing around
Mago for a bit before slicing his throat with his own arakh and ripping out the entirety of his vocal apparatus—tongue and
all—with his bare hands.
Besides a sharpness of steel, this episode also shows quite
a bit of sharpness of wit and brain. Robb’s above remark about cutting his meat
is one; he also shows cunning by feeding a captured Lannister scout bad
information and sending him back to Tywin. This level of canny thinking is
exactly the sort of thing Tywin stated earlier that he didn’t expect from Robb,
“a green boy.” Tyrion was less doubtful, but then Tyrion is generally an even
more strategic thinker than Tywin (not by much, admittedly). Tyrion’s strategic
thinking is also on full display in this episode, as he convinces a bunch of
mountain tribesmen (and women) not to kill him and take all his things, but to work
for him in exchange for the promise of ownership of the Vale of Arryn. As
Martin explains in the commentary, the mountain clans are the remains of the
First Men, shoved out of power by the Andals, who invaded a few thousand years
after the First Men settled Westeros. They, of course, want their land back,
and Tyrion’s promise to give it to them (along with the giant gold lion’s-head
ring he hands over) seems to do the trick.
Joffrey’s Small Council is also honing their wit on Sansa,
playing a game of good cop, bad cop (or good councilor, bad councilor, as
Martin puts it) to manipulate her into sending a letter to Robb to convince him
to swear fealty to Joffrey and keep the peace. Maester Pycelle plays “bad
councilor,” insisting that Sansa will inevitably turn traitor since Ned’s a
traitor; Varys and Petyr play “good councilor,” suggesting that Sansa is
innocent and can be trusted if she’ll only prove her trustworthiness. Cersei
acts as the focal point of these two sides, nudging Sansa to write the letter,
indicating that her obedience here will be a major factor in Ned’s fate. They
replay the entire mummery for the court when Sansa comes to beg for Ned’s life,
with Pycelle bellowing “treason is treason!” and Varys pointing out how
innocent she is, while Petyr looks like he smelled something bad and Cersei
looks honestly concerned about how Joffrey’s going to handle this.
The scene closes with a slow pan-down behind the throne, the
sharp blades rising up the screen, a literal pointy end to the episode. The
visuals also remind the viewer of the power the king holds, and how that power
is wielded at the end of a multitude of blades. Earlier in the scene, Ser
Barristan Selmy is removed from the Kingsguard and throws his sword on the
floor, telling Joffrey to “melt it down and add it to the others.” The Iron
Throne itself is a reminder of conquest, without the double-edged reminder of
the books that power is treacherous. The design of the throne for the show left
out the sharp bits in the armrests and Joffrey cutting himself on them, making
his position as king—and the position of the kings of Westeros in general—look
a lot more secure than it really is.
RIP: a lot of guards and servants
Septa Mordane
The stableboy
Othor
Jafer Flowers
Mago
I’ll believe Syrio Forel is dead when they show me his body
Next week: Death. Destruction. Shock. Horror.
Gif from 10 Things I Hate About You, screencaps from screencapped.net
Gif from 10 Things I Hate About You, screencaps from screencapped.net
A welcome piece, as ever.
ReplyDeleteI have to wonder, since you point out Syrio, what his medieval/ist antecedent is...
I see Spanish fencing influences, and maybe some Eastern mysticism.
DeleteI have to wonder if the showrunners are echoing another piece of medievalism: Antonio Banderas's character in The 13th Warrior.
Delete