Thursday, May 16, 2019

Galavant Rewatch 1.7, "My Cousin Izzy"

Read the previous entry here!
Read the next entry here!

As the first season of Galavant nears its end, a series of potential resolutions are offered--and thwarted.

1.7, "My Cousin Izzy"

Written by Chris Koch
Directed by Scott Weinger, Jeremy Hall, Luan Thomas, and Joe Piarully

Synopsis

"Good talk, Son" incoming.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary
In an avowed flashback, Galavant's father returns home and dispenses fatherly advice to a young Galahad. It includes an eschewing of emotional display and attachment in favor of preparedness for a single moment of importance. Galavant reflects on the lesson as he languishes in the Valencian dungeon, ready to save himself and the rest imprisoned with him.

As he makes plans to effect the group's escape, Isabella attempts to talk with him about their realization in the previous episode. Her parents quietly note to her that they had gotten a message to her cousin, Harry, whom she is intended to wed. She expresses disgust at the idea before being reminded of the incestuous nature of the family. Sid and the jester, Steve McKenzie, look on and comment on their lot in the plot.
They may only be "here for the jokes," but most of the audience is
only there for the jokes...and some of them are good, at least.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.

Isabella notes the impending arrival of her cousin before Galavant exposits his goals--in song. But the lot are summoned to the throne room, where Madalena briefs Kingsley on who they all are. Richard and Kinglsey enter into a duel--by proxy. Kingsley chooses Gareth; Galavant volunteers to fight for Richard in exchange for the release of his colleagues.

Hers is the voice of reason here.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.
As Galavant prepares for the duel, Isabella asks why he is willing to fight for Richard. Madalena tries to persuade Galavant back to her side, to no avail; he and Isabella are taken to the duel, and Galavant charges Sid with the protection of the rest should he fall. And Richard confronts Gareth at the site of the duel, explicating the stakes of the event. And the chef, Vincenzo, tries to push his suit on Gwendolyn, who demurs against the likelihood of a shift in power that will leave "the downstairs people" suffering yet again.

Galvant proceeds to the duel, only to have it interrupted by the arrival of Harry and his forces. A tense stand-off ensues as Harry comes to claim his fiance. The upset to plans is noted, and issues of protocol take precedence. Sid and Steve work to free the group, assuming Galavant is dead. A feast to honor the arriving prince offers an avenue of escape.

Gwendolyn approaches Vincenzo as he prepares the feast, suggesting that they poison the feasters in a surprisingly cheerful song. In the event, though, the chef settles for introducing allergens to the food, which begin to take effect as Sid and company proceed through their escape; Gwendolyn rebukes him for his seeming weakness but thanks him for his kindness. They seem to get on well as the allergy-fest proceeds.

Sid and company run into Galavant; Sid re-arms the knight, who fights his way through the room to Isabella and declares his love for her. Harry leaves in a juvenile dudgeon, and Galavant reprises his song at last--to the annoyance of all. And, somehow, Richard decides to fight his own duel--though Kingsley does not.

Discussion

A couple of things stand out in the episode as pointing towards medieval antecedents. One of them has to do with the narrative structure of the episode. In it, the show repeatedly moves toward a resolution that it then sets aside or thwarts entirely. Isabella is to be wedded to Harry--who leaves, instead. Galavant is poised to save the day repeatedly--and something interrupts. Richard adjusts the terms of the intended duel (about which more later), making a surprisingly noble gesture--that appears to be futile. Vincenzo is poised to kill the entire arrival feast--but demurs. In each case, expectations are set up, both internally to the episode and externally to the viewership, only to be subverted. In effect, the episode revels in a sort of pseudo-foreshadowing not at all unlike the device that appears in the Second Shepherds' Play, where the audience can expect that Mak will suffer far greater indignities than ends up being the case. (The two are also akin in the irreverently bawdy humor that suffuses both, which helps.)

The other has to do with the idea of dueling. There is a long-standing trope in medieval and medievalist works that warriors could settle differences through combat--and that the results of such combat would be respected by participants and interested parties. The chivalric code depicted in Malory, for example, makes much of the idea, with most knights engaging in the behavior, and the work heaping scorn upon those who spurn the practice. (Jacqueline Stuhmiller addresses the topic in a 2006 Speculum article.) There is some historical justification for the trope; the judicial duel was, in fact, a recognized practice in much of medieval Europe (though it took forms not commonly depicted popularly), and there were, under certain law codes, provisions for proxies to conduct the actual fights (although such provisions usually only covered those unable to fight for themselves). No small amount of scholarship attests thereto. The present episode orbits--with a strange and lopsided orbit, to be sure--such a duel, establishing it in both historical and popular conception as medieval, and it makes some of the oddities in the series more sensible.

That a season of a television series would follow an overall story arc makes sense; having a notion of where a narrative will go helps it get there. That it would culminate--or appear it will culminate--in a judicial duel, a practice long recognized and popularly held as being of singular importance, also makes sense; it is a BIG DEAL, and such things make for good points of plot resolution. But, as is noted above, judicial duels would take specific forms, often involving sharp limitations on the arms and armor to be employed--which makes the odd reliance on swords without shields and only incomplete armor suddenly align with practice. If it is the part of the knight to fight on behalf of others in legalistic circumstances such as Malory presents, rather than to engage in the general fracas of outright warfare--and fictional depictions of knighthood, including that in Galavant, do tend to run that way--then the partial armoring and the eschewing of weaponry that would be much more brutally effective than a sword makes sense. It's a small point, and it is perhaps being stretched, but it is still an interesting invocation of the actual medieval in a medievalist production--another in a series seemingly replete with them.

Monday, May 13, 2019

Game of Thrones Watch: 8.5 "The Bells"

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.


“The Bells”
Written by David Benioff & D.B. Weiss
Directed by Miguel Sapochnik

We’re almost done, you guys. It’s almost over.

This episode had one huge glaring flaw, but overall, it might have been the best episode in the season. The cinematography was gorgeous. The cello work in the score? Brilliant. The acting had me right on the edge of sympathetic tears for the first 15-20 minutes. The tension while everyone’s waiting for the bells to ring—magnificent. The juxtaposition of Arya escaping and Sandor fighting Gregor—amazing. The production crew at all levels deserves every Emmy they’re likely to win this year.

They even gave us some believable character moments. Leaving entirely aside that I don’t think “Cleganebowl” will happen in the books (Sandor’s a much different character there), it makes perfect sense for this Sandor. This Sandor is vengeance personified and knows it, and knows that it’s terrible, and saves Arya from the same fate. He can’t turn back—but Arya can, and does. It was nice to see her humanized a bit.


I initially considered Jaime’s bit in this episode a flaw because it continued the changes Benioff & Weiss have made from the books, changes that I think are detrimental to Jaime’s overall character. However, taken in isolation from the books, it demonstrates a consistency that not a lot of characters in this show have. Would I rather see character development and Jaime stay with Brienne and decide he wants to be a better person than Cersei? Sure. Does it make sense that he doesn’t? Yes. If this is the Jaime they wanted to give us, at least he was an internally consistent Jaime who recognized his own flaws and followed them to their logical conclusion—like Sandor did.

The huge, glaring flaw? One guess.

The showrunners have no idea how to write women, or to write about women. They never have. I’ve said this over and over in this series. Added to this particular weakness is their push to get to the end as fast as possible, which has led to sloppy writing that relies heavily on harmful tropes, especially when it comes to women and people of color.

For Daenerys in particular, there’s an implication that women can’t be trusted with power because they’re too emotional. The narrative wants us to be afraid of her because she keeps burning people alive and not listening to her advisors. But this is the same narrative that had her doing similar things for years and wanted us to view her as a badass. The sloppy writing comes in with the sudden turn in season seven toward the narrative favoring Jon to be king and needing to get Dany out of the way. But when you’ve already set her up to be the rightful queen of Westeros, who’s been working toward that goal and helping people and learning to rule for six years, how do you suddenly change the audience’s sympathies?

By making her “crazy,” of course. Irrational. Emotional. Too unstable to rule. Can’t be trusted with her finger on the nuclear button because PMS or some shit. Not only is this a terrible approach to writing a woman (women, really, because they did the same basic thing to Cersei, minus the dragons), but it’s a horrific way of approaching and writing about mental illness.

The Daenerys they’ve constructed on the show isn’t a sociopath or a psychopath or whatever it is they want us to think she is because of some “gods flip a coin” stuff. Right up until she nukes King’s Landing, all of her feelings are absolutely valid. She listened to her advisors and didn’t immediately take King’s Landing upon arriving in Westeros, and it cost her her fleet and ultimately a dragon (the stupid trip beyond the wall wouldn’t have been necessary if she’d already taken the throne by then). Now her advisors are turning on her. The one person she thought she could trust refused to do the one thing she asked of him, giving said advisors ammunition to turn on her. She lost her best friend. If anything, she’s depressed, and she has every right to be.


What the show is arguing, and has argued pretty much from the beginning, is that mental illness (of any kind) leads to violence. By default. Full stop. Everyone coded “crazy” (I apologize for the abelist language, but that’s entirely the approach the show is taking, especially since they never specify what kind of mental illness they mean) is violent. Aerys. Viserys. Joffrey. Euron. Ramsay. Cersei. And now Daenerys.

That final “snap” into “Mad Queen” even came out of literally nowhere and didn’t fit with anything they’ve given us about Dany up to this point. I’d have believed her destroying the Red Keep after the bells were rung. I don’t believe her just opening fire on the city like that. She’s angry, sure. She’s angry with Cersei for everything that’s happened since she got to Westeros—for losing Viserion, for Cersei not helping with the White Walkers, for Euron killing Rhaegal, for Cersei killing Missandei. So going after Cersei would have absolutely made sense. But even at her most conqueror-y, Dany never just burned down a city for no reason.

So why have her do it? My best guess—they wanted to have a reason for Jon to turn on her. He’s been unflinchingly loyal, absolute in his conviction that he does not want to be king, and they needed a reason for him to flinch.

I suppose we’ll see next week.

Deaths:
Varys
The Golden Company
Euron Greyjoy
Qyburn
Sandor Clegane
Gregor Clegane (for real this time)
Jaime Lannister
Cersei Lannister
Lots and lots of soldiers and King's Landing civilians

Thursday, May 9, 2019

Galavant Rewatch 1.6, "Dungeons and Dragon Lady"

Read the previous entry here!
Read the next entry here!

Revelations abound as the first season of Galavant moves closer to its ending.

1.6, "Dungeons and Dragon Lady"

Written by Dan Fogleman, Kirker Butler, Jeremy Hall, Luan Thomas, and Joe Piarulli
Directed by James Griffiths

There are some nice shots...
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary

Synopsis

Madalena confers with Galavant and is surprised at his mixed reaction to their reunion. He explicates his thoughts to her, and she condemns his ambitions as insufficient. Galavant tumbles to the idea that he would become her sexual servant, which he rejects as insufficient commitment; she explains, in song and dance, that there are limits to her ability to love.
Sometimes, the metaphor doesn't need much explication.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.

Meanwhile, Richard laments his marital difficulties to Gareth, his chef, and those assembled to watch what was supposed to be the hanging of Galavant. Gareth, upon Richard's prompting, explicates some of the king's incapacities before being summoned by Madalena. Richard continues to lament, and the chef suggests seeking "herbs...for cooking" from "Merlin's replacement," the wizard Xanax. Richard agrees.

It's the face of a man who likes his work.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.
Madalena descends to the dungeons with Galavant. Isabella runs to him, and Galavant rebukes her. Madalena mocks her, as well, and reneges on Richard's deal with her; she bids Gareth mutilate and torture the assembled prisoners. He refuses the command as not coming from his sworn king. Madalena reiterates the order and leaves.

Richard and the chef proceed to meet with Xanax, who lives in a tower above his mother's house. The wizard introduces his services, of which Richard and the chef avail themselves in Richard's quest to figure out who and what he is.

In the dungeons, the protagonists confer. They rebuke Galavant for his continued infatuation with Madalena. Gareth joins in the commiseration about Madalena's perfidies.

Richard engages in his herb-fueled introspection, joined by Xanax and the chef. They witness Richard's ascent to power--which comes only because his elder brother, Kingsley, rejects the throne amid a rock-operatic interlude. Richard comes away from the experience with new purpose.

This is also the face of a man who likes his work.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.
Galavant and Isabella come to the realization that they do, in fact, love one another. Gareth reports his refusal to Madalena, and Richard overhears; he bids her be imprisoned--but Richard's brother has arrived and intervenes.


Discussion

The title of the episode is, of course, a play on Dungeons & Dragons, which is one of the main avenues through which people are introduced to the medieval. The game's own often-problematic nature and not-wholly-accurate representation of the medieval European and many other cultures has been amply explicated in other places, and there is doubtlessly more work for it to do, but the fact of its invocation reinforces the medievalism of the series in the present episode, even so.

Of perhaps more moment in the episode is its invocation of a medieval trope of women as the oversexed participants in amorous relationships. (Chaucer's Wife of Bath is a ready example, though far from the only one.) Madalena's sexual appetite has been present throughout the series, of course, and it has been depicted as problematic in earlier episodes; the present episode, however, makes the complaint overt and direct. And its import is mixed in its context; while it should not be thought that open expression of sexuality is a wrong, it should also not be the case that pretense be maintained--and that is the case with Madalena's situation. Her rejection of Richard is appropriate, but her manipulation of Galavant is not. That is not to say that she should set aside her ambitions for his; she is right to note that the life Galavant purposes is not necessarily a good one, particularly as compared to that she enjoys in power. But to lead him along as she does scans as undesirable--though it must also be noted that one of the few avenues of power and control available to ennobled women in the period muddily depicted in the series is the exercise of their sexuality and its effects upon others.

Others who are more versed in feminist critique would doubtlessly have more to say about the matter, and more eloquently. It is not one of the areas in which I am particularly adept, which is on me and not on the material or the theoretical framework. But it is an approach that would be good to see, if others are willing to undertake it.

Tuesday, May 7, 2019

Game of Thrones Watch 8.4: "The Last of the Starks"

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series soon.


8.4 “The Last of the Starks” 
Written by David Benioff & D.B. Weiss 
Directed by David Nutter

Ho boy. Okay.

Do the writers want us to be #TeamNobody? Because this is how you get Team Nobody.

 And I don’t mean that to be glib. Given the events of the last 5 or so minutes of the episode, I don’t think this is something to be glib about. I’m usually deeply sarcastic about this show (I don’t know if you’ve noticed), but this episode feels to me like it pushed one too many buttons one too many times and I just want to watch the whole thing burn.

Lots of little character moments happened, but two big ones stuck out at me, so let’s tackle those first.

The first is kind of a joint character thing: Jon vs. Daenerys. I’d have to go back through the archives to see when I started predicting that the showrunners would pit them against each other and that all of this “Dany burns everything/Dany can’t be controlled by her advisors” stuff was setup for “Jon is the one true king.” Since I don’t want to do that, though, I’ll leave it at called it. Not only is the writing on this show bad, it’s predictably bad.


This episode in particular hammers home the Dany=irrational, Jon=good narrative, but is ridiculously clumsy about it. For one thing, all the things Dany’s angry about, she has every right to be angry about. But women aren’t allowed to be angry, right? Women angry equals overly emotional, irrational, crazy, you know, all the stereotypes. (This is very similar to how they treated Cersei a few years ago before she went full Evil Queen; they wanted us to think she was paranoid while everyone around her actually was dropping dead.) So Dany’s male advisors decide that she can’t be trusted to rule well, so they’re planning to overthrow her before she even gets started and replace her with Jon, who does not want to be king. Did we forget what happened the last time we had a king who didn’t want to be king? We had Robert Baratheon, who bankrupted the crown, left a bastard in every port, failed to keep the alliance with the Lannisters together, and moped about Lyanna for decades.

(Quick side note: Robert’s Rebellion was a justified war. It wasn’t started because of Lyanna, and it wasn’t “built on a lie,” and the writers can go jump off a cliff for that whole in-universe backseat rebelling.)

So, in order to keep that problem from even coming up, Dany asks Jon for one thing. To not tell anyone about his heritage. Jon can’t manage that, not even to prove to his queen and the woman he loves (and, incidentally, his aunt) that he backs her claim to the throne. Jon’s parentage is what’s going to bring this whole thing down—without that knowledge, Tyrion and Varys probably wouldn’t even be considering having Dany assassinated to replace her with Jon.


Meanwhile, Jon’s been super busy denying being a Stark, like he’s forgotten that his mother still was one. He literally says out loud “I was never a Stark” before having Bran tell Sansa and Arya about his parentage. Since when does one’s father wipe out the heritage one gets from one’s mother? Having a Targaryen father and a (utterly ridiculous) Targaryen name does not make him 100%, no taksie-backsies, Targaryen. Not only that, but if Theon can be considered an honorary Stark—as Sansa leaving him her pin would seem to indicate—then surely Jon being raised by a Stark in a Stark household and literally having a Stark mother would make him a Stark. Blood isn’t everything, and Jon has no Targaryen influence at all.

And then he sends Ghost north, which I think is equal parts “he’s not a Stark anymore” and “we don’t have the budget for more direwolves.” (Maybe it’s “we’re about to get Nymeria back and we can only afford one direwolf” but I’m not holding my breath.)

In short, if we were going to end up with Jon on the throne, I’d much rather it be because Dany sacrificed herself and her dragons to save the world from Winter rather than whatever this all is. (I know what it is. It’s misogyny disguised as “strong female characters” and has been from the jump.)

Then there’s the other big incident in this episode.

Missandei.

So much went wrong here. From the obvious setup with her and Grey Worm being too cute and wholesome for this show to the chains to her last words to the beheading, it was all bad. But since I’m a white woman and not a critical race theorist, let me lead this bit off with some words from actual women of color:



You know what would fix or at least alleviate problems like this? Having more women of color on the show. When there’s only one, the way she’s treated becomes the way the show treats all women of color, full stop. And Missandei died in the way she most feared—in chains—in order to a) show that Cersei (despite Tyrion’s words) absolutely is a monster (which we knew); and b) motivate Dany to burn everything to the ground. A woman of color is killed off to inspire a white woman have her Feelings and that’s pretty much the definition of fridging.

Unfortunately, the first half of the episode was mostly pretty good before the proverbial shit hit the fan. The funeral was touching, Jon’s speech was actually pretty inspiring, and it gave the characters a chance to react to the battle and having survived it. Being not entirely immune to fan service (do they make a vaccine for that?), I squealed over Brienne and Jaime. (And then I got super annoyed that she was reduced to standing in the snow in a housecoat begging him not to leave and crying over him because seriously.)

Even Arya and Gendry’s thing actually makes thematic sense. Of course she would refuse him and instead ride off with Sandor to probably go murder Cersei. That’s the character they’ve built up since season one. That’s the kind of thing I expect from Arya, not whatever last week was about. (Shock value. It was about shock value.)


But even this opening party scene isn’t without its deeply problematic elements, and as usual, they have to do with Sansa.

Here’s the dialogue:
SANDOR: None of it would have happened if you’d left King’s Landing with me. No Littlefinger. No Ramsay. None of it.
SANSA: Without Littlefinger and Ramsay and the rest, I would have stayed that little bird all my life.
The implications here are deeply troubling. First, that all the trauma she went through was somehow good and necessary for her character development, which is, of course, horseshit. Second, that she wasn’t already starting to grow up and understand the world before “Littlefinger and Ramsay and the rest”; you know, after Ned’s death and Joffrey’s abuse and being forcibly married to Tyrion and everything that happened in seasons 1-4.

Third, it sounds very much like the writers are arguing that taking Sansa in the direction they did, far far away from her story in the books, somehow made her a better character. Granted that we don’t know the culmination of Sansa’s story in the books yet, but I highly doubt that she’s somehow worse than this ice queen David & Dan have given us.

Only two more episodes to go. Let’s see how big of a conflagration we get in next week’s episode and how Dany’s demonized for it.

Deaths:
Rhaegal
Missandei

Saturday, May 4, 2019

Yet More about #Kzoo2019

𝔗o follow up on an earlier post, and per §5.1 of the Society Constitution, Society members are advised that the Annual General Meeting of the Tales after Tolkien Society will take place at the International Congress on Medieval Studies at Western Michigan University in Kalamazoo, Michigan, USA, at 5:15pm local time in Fetzer 2030. Current agenda items are
  • Elections for Vice-president (USA) and Social Media Officer
  • Panel proposals for the 2020 International Congress on Medieval Studies
Currently, incumbent Luke Shelton is standing for re-election to the Vice-President position; he and Rachel Cooper, current Society Secretary, have been nominated to the Social Media Officer position. Additional nominations may be emailed to Society President Geoffrey B. Elliott here.
Currently, panels up for consideration for proposal to the 2020 International Congress on Medieval Studies are "More Afterlives of Medieval Religion" (offered to help develop more materials for the long-proposed third Society collected volume on the topic) and the perennial "Unconventional Medievalisms" (focusing on non-literary, non-film mis/appropriations of the medieval). Other proposals may be emailed to Society President Geoffrey B. Elliott here.
Additional nominations and proposals may be suggested during the meeting.
We hope to see you at the 'Zoo!

Thursday, May 2, 2019

Galavant Rewatch 1.5, "Completely Mad...Alena"

Read the previous entry here!
Read the next entry here!

Conflicts continue along with the season, and one of the more notable guest stars on the series appears.

1.5, "Completely Mad...Alena"

Written by Casey Johnson, David Windsor, Jeremy hall, Luan Thomas, and Joe Piarulli
Directed by John Fortenberry

Synopsis

Not all are unaware.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.
Galavant, Isabella, and Sid proceed to Valencia aboard the pirates' ship. Galavant confers with the others as to the best course of action to take, convinced of his ultimate success. Isabella, owing to her arrangement with Richard, is nervous about the whole affair, however.

In Valencia, Richard anticipates Galavant's arrival. He explicates his nefarious intent to Gareth. Madalena intrudes, summoning her handmaiden, and said handmaiden and the king's chef confer. The latter attempts to woo the former, and Madalena rages against Richard's seeming inaction--in song.

With faces like these, other traditions are in play, as well.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.
After arriving in Valencia, Galavant, Sid, and Isabella plot their assault on Richard. Isabella calls for a delay, but Galavant is impatient to begin. He is convinced to delay by his aroma, however, and the three put in at a monastery--as is tradition. They are welcomed warmly and harmoniously, as is also traditional. And Isabella asks for the sacrament of confession for her perfidy.

Richard's cook finds himself the focus of Madalena's attentions. She presses on him for details of Richard's plans; she offers to send her handmaiden to him in exchange for information. He offers it to her.

At the appointed time, Richard awaits Galavant--who is late. Isabella arrives in his stead, working to bargain for Galavant's life. No change to the deal is available, however, and the plan proceeds, if with some delay. Galavant and Isabella begin to grow closer, as well.

It is a strange and awkward thing that moves far closer to harassment and
coercion than is comfortable, their burgeoning relationship. It's another mark
against the series.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.
As matters proceed, Madalena sends a message to an unknown recipient and rewards the cook. He takes the opportunity to press his suit with the handmaiden, who is reluctant due to socioeconomic factors but eventually relents.

Galavant, Isabella, and Sid infiltrate the Valencian castle. Isabella tries to intervene, but Richard intercedes and takes the three captive. He also reveals Isabella's perfidy.

The three find themselves incarcerated pending Galavant's execution. Galavant is led away to be hanged, but the cook is substituted for him; Madalena takes Galavant into her chambers to try to reclaim his affections as the episode comes to an end.

Discussion

Of some note in the episode is a possible reference to the less-known Thomas Hoccleve--specifically, his Complaint, in which his narrative persona confers with itself in a mirror. Hoccleve's conference seems to have a better end than Madalena's, but, owing to my work under Chris Healy at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, the piece still comes to mind.

A more prominent, recurring joke in the episode pertains to timekeeping. Several characters make reference to astronomical phenomena as they discuss when events will occur--followed by others, seemingly more pragmatic, confirming the times in modern chronology. Gareth's "So, like, nine o'clock" is an early example. Two things are going on in such interchanges. One is the nod towards the relative unavailability of reliable timekeeping in the medieval period. While it is the case that religious bodies tracked time--witness various liturgies of hours--and secular life did orient business around the religious bodies' notation of that time, the divisions were relatively broad. In the sparsely populated medievalist milieux of Galavant and other properties, many places are out of easy earshot of the bells usually used to mark such time in Western Christian communities; astronomical phenomena would then be the go-to reference points (and might even be when bells were available, as the motions of the heavens are more regular and reliable than personal timekeeping). Chaucer's Parson's Prologue makes such an equation, for but one example, using the height of the sun and the length of the narrator's shadow to assert the time (ll. 2-9).

The other is a long-standing trope of mocking those overly eloquent in their phrasing. (The irony of someone given to academic writing styles and lengthy asides making such a comment is not lost.) The florid, even turgid astronomical phrasings give way to concise clock-bound statements that seem meant to distill base information and tacitly to make fun of the former--and while such patterns proceed far back into the historical record, there are notable medieval instances of them that are commonly taught and so serve as reference points for many audiences. The Second Shepherds' Play, for example, notably (and to the delight of undergraduates and some lucky high schoolers) bids Mak "take outt that sothren tothe, / And sett in a torde!" (ll. 215-16), or to leave off fancy speech. Similarly, Chaucer's Parson gives a backhanded insult in his prologue, commenting with some aspersion on the "rum, ram, ruf" (l. 43) of more ornate presentation. Both seem good antecedents for a medievalist comedy series...

Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Game of Thrones Watch 8.3: "The Long Night"

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here


8.3 “The Long Night” 
Written by David Benioff & D.B. Weiss 
Directed by Miguel Sapochnik 

Okay, well. Here we are on the other side of the great big battle against the Big Bad, and we all survived. Well, most of us survived.

This episode was visually and emotionally stunning. Once again, Ramin Djawadi does most of the heavy lifting when it comes to making the story compelling. And once again, the thematic unity of the series is all over the place.

The placement of this battle at all is kind of iffy to me, anyway. One of the underlying themes of the books is that the battle for the Iron Throne is a distraction, that politics and petty infighting are keeping everyone from realizing the true threat. “Who will sit the Iron Throne” isn’t the point of the series. Sure, somebody will at the end, but the point is pulling together to defend all of humanity from this huge, unstoppable threat, and the people who can’t or won’t do that die. So I’m not sure how I feel about having this battle first, before taking down Cersei, who’s actively working against unity. It seems to me that her demise should be a direct result of refusing to help, by having to face her choices and dying because of the White Walkers, not in an otherwise perfectly mundane battle for the throne.

Also, none of the choices she made affected this battle in any way. A few thousand more men wouldn’t have helped. Ships wouldn’t have helped. So “all” she did was break her promise, not cost the north this battle. Everyone will go south to fight her because she’s a tyrant and a terrible queen, but not because she actually crippled the armies of the north.

 99% of the episode is fighting, and I’m not a tactician, so I won’t attempt to pick apart the battle itself. (We’ll leave that to Jeff “BryndenBFish.”)(Click through for thread.)

Instead, let me focus on a few specific scenes or incidents, in more-or-less chronological order.

I was actually really glad to see Melisandre again; I love her character in the books and I wish the show had treated her better. I also like that she seems to have found her inner strength again and that she’s not attached to a man in order to have it. (The Arya thing is an entirely different matter and we’ll get to that closer to the end.) Instead of guiding some dude toward his destiny, she’s here on her own behalf to assist the armies of the living against the army of the dead. And her thing with the Dothraki arahks just looks cool. Of course, it’s also necessary, because it doesn’t look like the arahks are made of obsidian, which means they’re just regular steel. Why did nobody say anything about sending the Dothraki in to fight the dead with just regular steel?

In a meta-sense, it’s probably because they intended Mel to come in and do her fire trick anyway. In-universe, it’s ridiculous and makes it look even more like the Dothraki were expendable cannon fodder.

Which brings me to the Dothraki charge.



This show has never treated the Dothraki well. They went from “barbarian” to “noble savage” (admittedly a problem they inherited from the books), back to “barbarian” before Dany “tamed” them and bound the entire Dothraki nation to her cause. The idea of the Dothraki as “other” has never been interrogated or problematized. Few of them have been named, and most of those died or fell off the radar before we ever got here. So now we have a nameless horde of racially-otherized people being sent in as the first wave and getting utterly massacred. It felt very much like the first death in a horror movie, the one that’s supposed to show how serious everything is. It didn’t even have a last-stand, grand epic sacrifice kind of feeling. It just felt wasteful.

It did, however, give Dany a reason to throw the whole plan out the window and just take the dragons and charge in. Now, I’m not saying I necessarily disagree with her, especially her observation that “the dead are already here,” but it feels like either they needed to get there sooner and just open with the dragons rather than throwing thousands of Dothraki at the dead to make more corpses, or Dany needed to be able to see the bigger picture and stand her ground with regard for waiting for the Night King.

And then the dead reach the main force, and we get some fabulous face acting from Jacob Anderson (Grey Worm). I am so glad he survives this battle, though, again, that “let’s run away” scene was too sweet for both of them to survive the whole series. (I will be incredibly glad if they do, but I’m not holding my breath.) And everything is chaos, with a few standout moments. Brienne going down under a bunch of wights and screaming reminded me of her scene in A Feast for Crows when she’s fighting Rorge and Biter. Grey Worm is a big damn hero pretty much throughout, but especially when he’s guarding the retreat.


I seem to remember Sansa being better at the waiting-in-the-dark thing back in season two. She was much more effective during “Blackwater” than she is here; except for not getting piss-drunk, she’s acting much more like Cersei did than being the encouraging, supportive princess she was then. Also, I really wish they’d stop trying to create a Sansa-Tyrion friendship. There’s so many problems with it (there were so many problems when they were doing it in season three), and it’s just more of their inability to admit that Tyrion is an asshole, not the hero of the piece.

And then we have the dead World War Z-ing over the walls, and the Stark dead rising in the crypts (which every single Game of Thrones watcher I follow on Twitter totally called). I don’t quite buy it? Mostly because the last person to be buried down there was Lyanna, roughly 20 years ago, and the books talk a lot about how only their bones were left to be interred (because they don’t have the tech to preserve the bodies for a trip from King’s Landing or the Tower of Joy to Winterfell), so honestly there shouldn’t be enough left of any of the Stark dead to actually make a walking corpse. But I’m just glad they didn’t surprise us with a Sean Bean cameo (I wouldn’t have put it past them to “forget” that Ned was reduced to bones to be sent north).

This is where we give props to Ramin Djawadi again for the soundtrack, and whoever the sound mixer is who handled the post-dragon fight scene, because the choice to dampen the battle noises and have the piano line over it was genius. I do think it went on maybe a bit too long? But it was really pretty anyway. Also, you can very much hear that Djawadi also does the Westworld soundtrack in “The Night King,” which is the piano piece here.


I do wonder what Jon thought he was going to accomplish by standing in the open and screaming at Viserion.

The last 20 minutes or so show what I mean about shaky thematic and narrative flow. Jorah dies protecting Dany, which is absolutely appropriate considering his entire story arc. There was no other way for him to go out (even if it did mean he had to retreat and abandon the Dothraki during their charge).

But. It makes no thematic sense that Arya’s the one to take out the Night King. There has been exactly one vague hint in that direction—Bran giving her the Valyrian steel dagger. Yes, I know they retconned Melisandre’s prophecy to fit this. No, it still doesn’t make sense. If Jon’s purpose isn’t to take down the Night King, why did he come back to life? Why didn’t dragon fire hurt the Night King? During the “Inside the Episode” follow-up, Weiss says that they knew for “about three years now” that Arya would be the one to kill the Night King, which would put that decision happening around 2016, probably when they were writing season seven. Which means that they had no way of seeding that in or making it work thematically before that. I think they decided on Arya because a) they wanted a Stark to do it; but b) they wanted to create a surprise for the audience. But that’s a failure of storytelling, and one that Game of Thrones is particularly prone to; they throw in twists and shocks for the sake of twists and shocks, not because they’ve managed to very carefully seed and hint and misdirect and then everything comes together and it’s obvious this is what was meant to happen all along.


(Also, their claim that this was a decision they made three years ago indicates that this isn't how the battle against the Others will go in the books. For one thing, there is no Night King in the books, and for another, if Arya was to be the one to strike the final blow against whatever needs killing, that would obviously be something Martin would have told them in that infamous hotel meeting.)

Don't get me wrong; aesthetically I thought the scene was really cool, and I like that Arya got to be this level of badass. Her character arc and training storyline even make sense for it, taken in isolation. But she’s not in isolation; she’s part of a larger story, and that story didn’t effectively seed or foreshadow or prophesy (retconning notwithstanding) that Arya would be the one to effectively save the world. For such a buildup to taking out the White Walkers once and for all, I feel like the story needed to be there, and it wasn't. I'll probably take a lot of crap for this; I see lots of people online already who love this scene and are calling people who didn't sexist. But I stand by my opinion: cool does not outweigh a thematic through line.

Then we’re back on thematic unity with Melisandre dying now that she’s completed her life’s work. What she said about Beric—that the Lord of Light brought him back for a purpose and that purpose was fulfilled—holds true for her, as well. (And draws attention to the fact that it doesn’t seem to hold true for Jon.) Mel has lived for a very long time, she’s made some mistakes, she’s backed the wrong horse over and over, but she was instrumental in helping to defeat the Long Night, and now her watch has ended.

Next week: the war for the Iron Throne begins.

Deaths:
The Dothraki
Edd
Lyanna Mormont
Beric Dondarrion
Theon Greyjoy
Jorah Mormont
The Night King
All the White Walkers
Viserion (again)
Melisandre
Scores and scores of extras

Thursday, April 25, 2019

Galavant Rewatch 1.4, "Comedy Gold"

Read the previous entry here!
Read the next entry here!

The protagonists continue to quest towards their goal, and Richard towards his, and Richard develops more as a sympathetic character along the way.

1.4, "Comedy Gold"

Written by Kat Likkel and John Hoberg
Directed by John Fortenberry

Synopsis

Galavant, Isabella, and Sid reach the ocean as they progress toward Valencia. Isabella warns against the path Galvant proposes to take; he rejects the warning, heroic arrogance rising to the fore again. Tension resulting from their persistent contact emerges in song...
Harmonious motion...
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.

...allowing them to be taken by the bandits about which Isabella had given warning.

In Valencia, Richard struggles with being cuckolded. He arrives at the idea that being funny will help woo Madalena back to him; Gareth's advice on the matter is decidedly earthy. Richard pursues his own plan, leading him to confer with the narrating jester about learning humor.
Going straight to the point...
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.


The captured Galavant, Sid, and Isabella are taken to a putative Pirate King, whose crew is stuck aground after a shipwreck explicated in song.
They seem a nice bunch.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.

In Valencia, Richard begins his tutelage with the jester. Richard's practice does not go well, and the jester tries to duck out of the situation--to no avail. He perceives himself as bound to flatter Richard's ego despite the man's repeated failures.

Among the pirates, evidence of intra-group tension emerges, and its presence among the protagonists reasserts itself. The Pirate King, Peter Pillager, confers with Galavant about their respective situations. He tries to recruit him, to no avail.

In Valencia, Richard puts on a comedy show. It goes about as well as could be expected.
He's not funny for the reasons he would like to be.
Image taken from the episode, used for commentary.

The protagonists manage to subdue the pirates independently; Sid and Isabella take the camp, while Galavant takes Peter. Both groups manage to reunite, and they purpose to free the pirates' ship in exchange for the protagonists' transit to Valencia.

In Valencia, the jester finally rebuffs Madalena's advances. Madalena orders him imprisoned for it. Richard enters moments later, noting the jester's name--Steve McKenzie--and casting terrible jokes at his queen.

And, at the end, Isabella confesses her perfidy to an inattentive Galavant.

Discussion

The series cannot help but remark on the popular Game of Thrones again, it must be noted. (Just as it must be noted that the Society's own Shiloh Carroll cannot but do so, either; go read her work!)

The episode departs from the medieval in favor of the anachronistic medievalist in the inclusion of pirates that follow the models typically ascribed to the 17th and 18th centuries. (The accuracy of such depictions is, of course, contestable, but having that particular discussion seems to exceed what this particular webspace allows.) As I've noted, however, such mishmashes and anachronisms are typical of presentations of older post-Classical periods, occasioning little comment save from those of us who actually look for such things. The inclusion of later period materials therefore does not break the medievalism in which the series is enmeshed, at least not for the popular viewership likely to be addressed by what aired as a Sunday evening entertainment on a broadcast network.

Neither does the focus on comedy break that medievalism--or, in the event, even with the medieval. As has been noted, the comedic genre of the fabliau is prevalent in the medieval--and seems to be a major generic model of the series. Too, the kind of comedy in place in the series runs to the bawdy and bodily, something that a 2013 Medievalists.net article (accessibly among many others) demonstrates and a 2016 piece by Kathryn Dickason attests as being a commonplace in medieval literature. Nor yet is the sometimes-problematic nature of the current humor wholly removed from the medieval, as Jamie Beckett notes. So even such seeming incongruities as Gareth's abundantly censored stream of "humor" are in line with the medieval antecedents Galavant invokes. And it might well be worth considering if the theory of humor articulated in the episode corresponds to what such theory might obtain in medieval literature, as well.

Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Game of Thrones Watch 8.2: "A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms"

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry here!


8.02 “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms”
Written by Bryan Cogman
Directed by David Nutter

I solemnly swear that, unlike Cogman and Nutter, I will not suddenly stop this discussion right as it gets to the good/important part.

This episode is kind of a mixed bag. On the one hand, it’s nice that they slow down a bit, and do it in a way that doesn’t feel like wheel-spinning (see the first third of “The Dragon and the Wolf”). It gives us a chance to spend time with the dozens of characters we now have all in the same place and for a few reunions. On the other hand, there’s a lot going on here that is seriously problematic, even verging into the disturbing.

Because I love Brienne so much, despite the Really Bad Choices I feel the show made in adapting her character, let’s start with the titular scene. While waiting for the dead to descend on them and their doomed last stand to begin, Brienne, Tormund, Davos, Pod, Jaime, and Tyrion are sitting around having a drink. Tyrion refers to Brienne as “ser,” then corrects himself, which offends Tormund, who still thinks Brienne hung the moon. He doesn’t understand why women “can’t” be knights, and says “fuck tradition.” Jaime points out that any knight can make another knight, and proceeds to knight Brienne in a scene that’s beautifully acted and got me choked up in ways I didn’t know Game of Thrones could still do.


Do I wish Jaime had thought of it first? Sure. Do I still kind of get squicked by the way Tormund drools all over a clearly disinterested and even uncomfortable Brienne? Absolutely. Have I been waiting for Jaime to knight Brienne since he started his redemption arc? Hell yes. Also, calling her the Knight of the Seven Kingdoms is a nice Easter egg for book readers, since her lineage includes Ser Duncan the Tall, and the Dunk and Egg collection is titled A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms.

Not all the conversations go this well. Both major conversations Daenerys is involved in—once with Sansa and once with Jon—go from bad to worse to over before they can really dig into the problem they’re trying to hash out. We almost get Dany and Sansa making up and being friends, but of course we can’t have it because they’re women with a man in common. Sansa rightly wants to know what Dany intends to do with/for/about the North if they survive this battle, but just before they actually get to discuss that—beyond the clear you are part of my kingdom and I have dragons face that Dany’s giving her—they’re interrupted by Theon. I hope that Theon’s “I want to fight for Winterfell and the North” speech does something to Dany’s thought process re: what they’re all fighting for, but I’m not holding my breath.

The other major conversation is Jon telling Dany about his parentage. I’m really glad they just got right to it instead of letting this secret hang over them for episodes and episodes (creating tension through characters keeping secrets they don’t need to be keeping is one of my least favorite storytelling tools; I’m looking at you, Supernatural). However, there’s a few continuity issues in that I don’t remember Dany ever really having any conversations regarding Rhaegar being a rapist? Barristan told her about Rhaegar going amongst the smallfolk and busking on street corners, but his relationship with Lyanna didn’t ever come up that I’m aware of. And I highly doubt that Targaryens-first Viserys would ever have called Rhaegar a rapist. In the books, every story Dany hears about him is positive, and she identifies with him more than her father. So her assertion that Rhaeger kidnapped and raped Lyanna—without something like “the way your people tell it”—is weird and off.

(Dr. Kavita Finn has a much longer take on the way this episode is divorced from the entire history of Westeros here.)


But, again, Dany comes to the conclusion that Jon could challenge her for the Iron Throne. At least she verbalizes that it’s because he’s male and not just because he’s Rhaegar’s son. But before they can talk that out, the horn blows three times and the White Walkers have arrived.

It’s interesting that Sansa mentions to Dany that men are easily manipulated by women when Dany’s constantly manipulated by the men around her. Case in point in this episode: she’s mad at Tyrion for not catching on to Cersei having lied to her—on top of the other mistakes in judgment he’s made. But then Jorah goes to bat for Tyrion because Seven forbid we ever think Tyrion is less than perfect, and Dany’s halfway to forgiving him before Sansa even has a chance to sing his praises (which is problematic all on its own).

Easily the most problematic bit, the one that squicked me out the hardest, was Arya’s seduction (if you want to call it that) of Gendry. First of all, we again had to start with Gendry’s sexual assault being downplayed and even joked about. Then, it almost felt like a job interview on Arya’s part—how much experience do you have? Great, then you’re the man for the job. This is also the first time we’ve seen Arya show any sexual interest at all, other than the crush she had on Gendry way back when they were traveling the Riverlands. And even here, there doesn’t seem to be so much interest as checking something off her bucket list. The cold, stonehearted (ha) character Arya has turned into doesn’t have the same chemistry with Gendry that twelve- or thirteen-year-old Arya had.

Then there’s the nudity. And yes, I’m aware that Arya is eighteen—HBO made damn sure to let us know that she’s “legal,” in a move that’s squicky all on its own. I’m also aware that Maisie Williams is in  her early 20s. But something about this scene feels like “now she’s old enough for us to have her nude on screen” rather than an organic idea that came from the characters and their relationship. I think if they had to have this at all, it could have been written better (and directed better) to make it sweet rather than bucket-listy.

Here’s the small things I noticed or had questions about in passing but not enough Thoughts about to yammer on for several hundred words:

Dany says that she delayed her war for the Iron Throne for Jon. But what happened to defending her people? Not wanting to be queen of ashes? Becoming a queen by acting like one? I guess when you make a character so easily manipulated, it’s hard to remember why she does anything.


Is Davos crediting “the Battle of the Bastards” (again, I hate that they’re calling it that in-universe) as his first fight? Have they forgotten all about “Blackwater”? And Stannis breaking the siege on the Wall?

How are they making these obsidian weapons? We see them in the regular forge, but that’s not how you’d shape obsidian and I didn’t notice anyone doing any knapping.

Sam needed to remind us of his man-cred again. White Walker! Thenn! Protecting Gilly!

Gilly continues to be a delight and far too good for this show.

I’m not entirely on board with Sam handing Heartsbane over to Jorah. It thematically doesn’t make any sense to me.

Grey Worm is totally going to die. The “let’s run away together” scene is way too sweet and wholesome for this to end any other way.

I am Here For “Jenny’s Song.” It’s mournful and sweet and actually makes sense in context, unlike Ed Sheeran singing “Hands of Gold” or Shireen, sans Patchface, singing Patchface’s rhymes.

Next week: Waiting in the dark! Fighting in the dark! Everything is dark! What is happening?