Oliver Davis reviews the seventh episode of Game of Thrones Season Two…
A Man Without Honor.
Directed by David Nutter.
Written by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss.
Although not as good as last week’s episode, A Man Without Honor Honour is amongst the best of the series thus far. Nearly every other scene excels in duologue – Jaime/his ex-squire, Arya/Tywin, Cersei/Tyrion and Jon/Ygritte. It also contains a few major plot points, revealing where Daenerys’ dragons got to, what becomes of Bran and Rickon after their escape from Winterfell, and a tense showdown between Catelyn and Jaime.
This is all managed without three of the show’s best characters – Stannis, Davos and Joffrey – and Tyrion, the show’s top bill, barely features at all. Once you’ve recovered from the final scene, you’ll find yourself admiring the depth of the supporting cast.
Jon
…has been separated from his fellow crows far beyond the Wall, lost with Ygritte (Rose Leslie), his wildling prisoner. The previous episode ended with them having a little snuggle to keep warm, Ygritte doing all she could to entice Jon (Kit Harington) for a bit of sexy-time. Being a free woman equates to being a nymphomaniac. I give it one more episode before she gets her kit off. Only in Westeros!
Note: Beyond the Wall is not within the realm of Westeros, so the joke does not work.
Note: However, Jon is played by Kit Harington, so putting the emphasis on “getting her kit off” might have been a better gag.
Jon is looking for the other men of the Night’s Watch he set out with, led by Quorin Halfhand (Simon Armstrong). He keeps Ygritte on a leash with her hands bound, but it’s her mouth that’s the issue. She won’t stop provoking Jon until he hits her or kisses her.
During one argument, about the Wall and who has the rights to the land, there’s a wonderful moment when Jon realises the two aren’t so different. He has the blood of the First Men in him, as does she, yet they are enemies because of a geographical trifle. “So why are you fighting us?” Ygritte asks before she stomps away as far as her leash will allow. Jon just squints into the distance, in that pensive, angsty way he has.
It raises an interesting point – why are they fighting the wildlings? They raid the villages and towns close to the Wall, sure, but that wasn’t why it was erected, to keep them out. The Wall was first built for something else. It was meant for much colder, Other things. Perhaps the Night’s Watch have lost sight of that…
Arya
…continues her budding relationship with Lord Tywin (Charles Dance). She still wants to kill him, as the prolonged shot of Tywin’s exposed neck while Arya (Maisie Williams) holds a meat knife in her hand shows, but their conversations get a little warmer with each episode.
This is one of the deviations the television series has made from the book, and it’s proving inspired. Tywin is a shadowy figure, rarely seen in the literature, so his embellishment in Game of Thrones is quite welcome. The interplay between him and his smart, spunky cup-bearer is observed perfectly.
Arya is always the last to leave Tywin after his war council meetings. She has to clean the tables, and attend to Tywin if he requires more wine. And when the others depart, she becomes his confidant of sorts. Tywin gets more frustrated with his advisers each time, them either suffering from stupidity or short-sightedness. Arya seems more intelligent than them all once they’ve left, and, as Tywin reveals, reminds him a lot of his daughter, Cersei (Lena Headey).
Tywin almost assumes a Grandfatherly role, regaling his past triumphs and mistakes to a fidgeting, yet courteous Arya. Williams is great as Arya Stark, but she excels in these scenes with Dance. She seems to be learning a lot from the old actor.
But how will it end? As this is not something within the book, it’s more engaging than it would otherwise be. Tywin and Arya will be celebrating their fifth episode-versary next week, and there isn’t much more the show can do to develop their relationship. You have to assume Arya will escape very soon, but the duo will be missed.
Theon
…last week ended with disappearances of Daenerys’ (Emilia Clarke) dragons in Quarth, and of Bran (Isaac Hempstead-Wright) and Rickon (Art Parkinson) from Winterfell. With the help of the ex-wildling, Osha (Natalia Tena), and giant halfwit, Hodor (Kristian Nairn), the two Stark boys escaped from Theon’s men.
“You let a cripple escape!?” he points out to his guards. “Well, weren’t just him, guv’nor. He had that giant’s help.” Much better, Theon decides. A giant halfwit and a cripple escaped his best men. Theon isn’t very good at this whole ‘Prince’ thing he’s taken up. “Oh, and that wildling woman too. You know, the one you were fu-“
Alfie Allen plays Theon’s conflicting emotions perfectly, his brow never fully taking control of a situation. Upon hearing one of his iron men mention Osha, Theon explodes into rage. Partly out of frustration at his guards, partly because he realises his complicity. He let his cock get the better of him. He’s immature, and hates to be reminded.
Theon attacks this guard with an off-balanced punch and a few stumbling kicks. He doesn’t fight like a knight, or a man seasoned in combat; Theon’s an archer. The victim doesn’t fight back, but that’s probably because of Theon’s Greyjoy blood than his strength.
That’s how the episode began, a Theon panicked, struggling in the web he’s spun, and for A Man Without Honour’s conclusion, we return to Winterfell. Although the episode’s title relates directly to Jaime Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), indirectly it applies to a great deal more. Jorah, Clegane, but especially Theon.
The end of episode seven from season one had Ned Stark betrayed by Littlefinger. The usurping was planned, and Joffrey was to be revealed as a product of incest, but the City Watch turned on the Starks, killing the Northmen and imprisoning Ned. Although it’s episode nine that won the awards, where Ned is executed on Baelor’s steps, it was Littlefinger’s betrayal two episodes prior that packed the more powerful emotional blow. It’s because of hope, and how ruthlessly George R. R. Martin dismisses it.
Season two’s episode seven ends on a similar dashing of hope. A manic Theon, raging at the gathered folk of Winterfell not to defy him, though he seems to speak to his own men too, hoists up two blackly charred bodies before them. They are the burnt corpses of Bran and Rickon, swinging in the Northern wind to a score of soaring, discordant violins.
About time. There hasn’t been a child murder for, like, two whole episodes.
Oliver Davis
