Bear in mind two things about the following:
- It is a very incoherent, half-finished commentary on a half-obscure, ultra-specific piece of pop culture, so much so it errs towards being the worst blog ever on the Mango.
- Spoiler alert.
I will now paraphrase the first six episode of HBO’s Game Of Thrones. According to Wikipedia it was shot in Northern Ireland, Iceland, Malta and somewhere else. According to someone I met recently his brother was an extra in one scene. Other than that my only preconceptions were based on conversations with P! These preconceptions were mainly threefold:
- Game Of Thrones is really great and I should watch it; it’s the kind of thing I would enjoy.
- There are a lot of unnecessary sex scenes in Game of Thrones, which is a shame, because it’s actually a really great show.
- The fact that P! likes it implies it is probably slightly out there on the geek scale.
Episode 1 is a fantastic start. I am hooked immediately. Guys getting chased in a cold, stormy wood with these legitimately scary dudes beheading them. Taking them out. These are whitewalkers. Monsters of some sort. People don’t think they exist anymore. But they’re back. The men in the north, ‘northerners’ have traditionally defended the kingdoms against shit like this. They even have a big wall to keep the scum out. So immediately Game Of Thrones is playing on a familiarity theme. We have a mystical baddie (like the Cylons), with kingdoms of men (like Rohan and Gondor), the north (like Bolton and Preston), a wall (Hadrian say what?), the scum (Scotland)… So, it’s a fast start. Do you know what else is a fast start? The tits.
The rest of episode 1. It’s all a blur really. There’s the Stark family. We like them. They have honour and grit and guard the north (and Boromir is the dad, like Tim Taylor/Bill Adama). There’s also a new king who’s visiting to ask Boromir to be his new ‘hand’ (he’s buddies with Boromir but is a bit of a douche and is fat, just like Al Borland). He is visiting with the queen who happens to be pretty hot. It seems pretty common knowledge that she/her brother killed the king’s ‘hand’. The motive for this is almost certainly because the queen and her brother are secretly banging.
Anyway, Boromir’s kid son peeps this sordid scene (above) when he’s clambering the city walls only to ‘fall’ ( was pushed) to his death… (Or so we think).
Anyway, the next few episodes go quickly (60 minute thrillers each of them) but basically the new king needs Boromir to join him down south at the capital (‘London’?). A shitstorm is brewing and he needs a man he can trust – i.e. Boromir. He was the trustworthy one of the fellowship, right? Or was that Merry? I forget… Oh shit, another thing I forgot: there’s a dwarf involved. He’s pretty great actually. What else is great in these next episodes? That’s right. The chebs.
Who’s she? Well… She and her brother are basically seeking asylum in Malta, even though the brother (aka total headmelter) is an heir to a throne, ‘the’ throne? I’m not sure. But he wants to be a king I know that. Anyway, he’s going to sell his sister (tits McGee in the picture above) to a savage king so he can get an army of savages in return and take back his throne. One of the most moving character arcs is where tits McGee wins the tender affection of her new savage husband. In a stellar scene one of her servants tells her how to have sex with her new husband really skilfully.
Which turns their relationship from…
What else. Well, to be honest loads of stuff happens really. There’s a dwarf abducted, and Boromir’s son survives but is paralysed, stuff goes down at Hadrian’s wall, loads of backstabbing happens in London naturally, because London’s shit innit? Can’t get good groutin’ or a barmcake anywhere in London. Oh, and the douche who sold his sister? Turns out the savage king finds him a headmelter too and… melts his head! Boom!
Granted, each episode continues to provide can shots…
So yeah, I’m looking forward to the next episode.