{"id":113,"date":"2014-06-09T13:31:06","date_gmt":"2014-06-09T17:31:06","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.hardwoodandhollywood.com\/pop-culture-spin\/?p=113"},"modified":"2014-08-05T22:42:01","modified_gmt":"2014-08-06T02:42:01","slug":"game-thrones-watchers-wall-bleedin-poet","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.hardwoodandhollywood.com\/pop-culture-spin\/2014\/06\/09\/game-thrones-watchers-wall-bleedin-poet\/","title":{"rendered":"Game of Thrones – \u2018The Watchers on the Wall\u2019: Not a bleedin\u2019 poet"},"content":{"rendered":"

Brought to you by our friends at Talk Thrones<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n

What did \u201cThe Watchers on the Wall\u201d, the ninth and penultimate installment of this fourth season of Game of Thrones, give its viewers?<\/p>\n

Some obvious things: the first one-setting episode since \u201cBlackwater\u201d in Season 2; a (very) temporary reuniting of Jon Snow and his Wildling lover Ygritte; a massive arrow launched from one side of The Great Wall to the other by a giant, picking up a passenger along the way via chest cavity.<\/p>\n

But digging a little deeper, this hour didn\u2019t just display the power of a mammoth or a Wildling army; it expressed the power of the show itself. With its landscape-obliterating tracking shots, stunning special effects (the aforementioned giants and mammoths, particularly), and ability to dart from heart-felt to gut-revealing, \u201cThe Watchers on the Wall\u201d shows that Game of Thrones\u2019 producers can wield their vision (and camera) like a pre-handputation Jaime Lannister could a sword. In that regard, the show is unmatched.<\/p>\n

Yet, there is a chink in the armor of this power-displaying episode. While it is a fantastic hour of television, it isn\u2019t a particularly satisfying episode of Game of Thrones\u2014at least for those eager to see the show\u2019s plot move forward. In that sense, it accomplishes almost nothing. By the time the battle is over, nothing has changed, save for the body count, and Jon\u2019s resolution to seek out Mance Rayder is as viable as it would have been before losing so many of his friends and the woman he loved.<\/p>\n

With each season of this fantastic series, we\u2019ve seen the number of \u201cmajor developments\u201d dwindle. This season, I\u2019d posit that the only two have been Joffrey\u2019s murder and the subsequent trial (one could also make the argument that Lysa Arryn and Littlefinger\u2019s involvement in the murderous prologue to the series as \u201cmajor\u201d\u2014I would, too\u2014but I\u2019m filing that under a \u201creveal\u201d rather than a \u201cchange\u201d). Outside of that, really, not much has changed, especially for a show that prides itself on the prospective danger any and all characters find themselves in. Of course, this may not be a fault wholly attributable to the show’s creators, but to the source material: from what I understand, as the books have gone on, more and more plots are losing page-time to descriptions of clothing and foodstuffs; trying to maintain my objectivity to the show, I\u2019m not a book-reader, so I\u2019ll have to take message board posters\u2019 ALL CAPS words for it.<\/p>\n

Still, as a contained hour of television book-ended by credits, it was more than pleasurable.<\/p>\n

Despite being the most battle-centric episode in two seasons, the central theme of this episode is love between man and woman. Particularly, Jon Snow and Ygritte, and Sam and Gilly (you could throw in Tormund and his soft-below bear in there, too, depending on whom you believe more, him or Ygritte).<\/p>\n

In the opening scene, Jon and Sam stand watch atop the wall, before the portly one begins a line of questioning not unlike one delivered to Ron Burgundy by his news team<\/a>. Sadly, Jon isn\u2019t so familiar with Starland Vocal Band and can\u2019t quite find the words to placate Sam (\u201cI don\u2019t know, I\u2019m not a bleedin\u2019 poet.\u201d \u201cNo, you\u2019re really not.\u201d), but the message is understood, mostly because Sam is perhaps the only other young crow to know how Jon feels.<\/p>\n

Perhaps fueled by the visibility of Jon\u2019s lovelorn longing, but most likely fueled by his thinking his love was lost forever, Sam refuses to blow his second chance with Gilly, despite her terrible timing. Minutes before the onslaught on the wall begins, she arrives, baby in tow, to the front gate, and for the first time on screen Sam is assertive and displaying testicular fortitude: \u201cPyp! Open the fucking gate!\u201d; \u201cAnyone who tries to throw you out will be having words with me\u201d; \u201cI made a promise to defend the wall, and I have to keep it. Because that\u2019s what men do\u201d (kiss).<\/p>\n

In discussion with Sam in the wall\u2019s library, even Maester Aemon gets in on the mushy-gushy talk, telling of his own lost love, and that to him, she\u2019s more real than the fat boy sitting feet away from him. But he\u2019s quick to remind Sam and the show\u2019s viewers what they came for: \u201cWe could spend all night trading tales of lost loves. Nothing makes the past as sweet a place to visit than the prospect of imminent death.\u201d Oh yeah, that.<\/p>\n

That prospect of imminent death reveals to us sides to a few characters we\u2019ve yet seen on Game of Thrones. Ser Alliser is both thoughtful and almost magnanimous when telling Jon Snow that the squire was right about sealing the wall\u2019s tunnel, and offered a mini-monologue on what it means to lead\u2014a particularly meaningful lesson considering positions of command were being handed down all episode like Mormon overalls. Couple this hard-and-fast lesson with his immediate return to scorn for the young bastard and some pretty badass swashbuckling and speech-delivering, and for the first time I don\u2019t hate Ser Alliser. He takes a sword to the gut from Tormund, but one has to assume that because we don\u2019t witness his actual passing, Alliser is in recovery.<\/p>\n

Others step up when called upon in the face of doom: Kevin Love\u2019s little brother Grenn seems right at home in the leadership role, taking five men down to the tunnel to defend the inner gate, shouting obscenities of encouragement. Jon stresses the importance of holding the gate, and the six men give their life to do so at the hands (and falling carcass) of a giant. Pypar grows a pair at the encouragement of Sam of all people, but makes the mistake of smiling on the battlefield\u2014ask Oberyn Martell how that works out.<\/p>\n

NOTES<\/strong><\/p>\n