Game of Thrones ended Sunday night, with a bit of a fizzle where there was supposed to be a bang. The episode wasnt going too badly, all things considered, until Tyrion (Peter Dinklage) emerged from the Red Keeps dungeons to propose that Bran Stark (Isaac Hempstead-Wright), a wheelchair-bound prophet, had the best shot at uniting the people of Westeros.
“Theres nothing in the world more powerful than a good story. Nothing can stop it. No enemy can defeat it,” he said. “And who has a better story than Bran the Broken, the boy who fell from a high tower and lived? He knew hed never walk again, so he learned to fly. He crossed beyond the Wall, a crippled boy, and became the three-eyed raven. He is our memory, the keeper of all our stories. The wars, weddings, births, massacres, famines. Our triumphs, our defeats, our past. Who better to lead us into the future?”
So after eight seasons of intrigue, Tyrions case for Brans ascension is a brief monologue that seemingly lays out the shows philosophy—how to break the wheel of oppression, rule, and struggle that has defined Westeross history. This endless conflict is what made Game of Thrones such a relatable battle epic. Tyrion, within the story, reasserts the power of story in his speech. But what he concludes is that the most compelling story belongs to . . . the cryptic bird guy.
Feinting to Bran is such an odd choice that for a moment I thought it was a joke. (I was not alone; even Hempstead-Wright initially thought the script was having fun at his expense.) To be sure, Game of Thrones has been determined to subvert expectations in its final season, and Vegas bookies had their money on Bran from the beginning of Season 8. But dispassionate, mysterious Bran is not exactly classic leadership material, and he certainly doesnt seem qualified to lead troops into battle, or to inspire a rabble of hungry Westerosi. It doesnt help that his sister seceded from Westeros entirely as soon as he was nominated for kingship—meaning that the Stark family isnt even a part of the Seven (or Six!) Kingdoms anymore, which might sit very strangely with the leaders of Dorne, the Iron Islands, and Highgarden, all of whom have also had their flirtations with independence.
And this is to say nothing of Brans immersion in just one of Westeross multiple religions. The Three-Eyed Raven is magic from the old gods, not the new; the resurgent sect of fundamentalist worship of the Seven might have a thing or two to say about answering to a heathen tree-worshipping bird warg, and thats without even touching what kind of inroads Melisandres religion, the worship of Rhllor, might have made after Stannis Baratheon brought the gospel of the night being dark and full of terrors to Westeros.
The only reason this tentative plan seems to stick is because Bran cant have children—a problematic assertion about people in wheelchairs, and also one that Sansa tells absolutely everyone, propriety be damned. The idea is to move away from dynastic monarchs to committee-selected monarchs. This is a nice idea, but not a perfect solution; Bran might break the wheel right now, but Tyrions tenuous compromise doesnt exactly set forward a path for the future.
Tyrions good at stories. The first time he was Hand of the King, in Season 2, he was adept at spinning Joffreys tyrannical rule into goodwill from the people. He believed in Daeneryss story—the long-lost Targaryen daughter, bringing her justice and her mercy on the backs of three fire-breathing dragons. I dont believe for a second that he actually thought Brans was the best story of anyone who gathered as part of that council. How could it be? We watched Bran, for multiple seasons, and his plot was frequently as dull as paint drying; a lot of confusing lore in an icy place, where the only action was watching Brans eyes roll back in his head. Yet hes somehow more interesting than a slave-turned-captain, a captive-turned-queen, a nimble assassin, Westeross first female knight, and the Lady of the Iron Islands?
In this scene, it feels less as if Tyrion is making Bran king and more as if he is making Jon Snow not king. Dissatisfying as this outcome may be, my colleague Joanna Robinson sketched out why that had to happen. The main reason: Jon takes to heart Maester Aemons words to him, “Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty.” And duty, for Jon, means making the hardest possible choice at great personal sacrifice.
Its a very depressing ending for a man who has been beleaguered from pillar to post, from the day of his birth in the South to his final exile in the North. The second son of Rhaegar Targaryen, the man with the strongest claim to the Iron Throne, is simply packed away—another bit of dynastic detritus that no one wants anything to do with. In the final scene of the series, Jon leaves Castle Black with Tormund and a band of wildlings, venturing north, beyond the wall, to find a new home. The way Jon looks back at the gate, its like hes looking back at Westeros for the last time—a place, his home, that brought him nothing but hardship.
In a way, I appreciate the twist of this knife. Life ought to be more just, this ending says, but theres rarely a grand reward for doing the right thing. His decision—kill the queen and be damned to a lonely, loveless exile in a cold, drafty palace—was the inverse of what his father Rhaegar chose, when he fled his wife and abandoned his throne for the love of Lyanna Stark. Their actions doomed Westeros to decades of war; only the repudiation of Jons love for Dany can set the country to rights.
On the other hand, its a strange conclusion about the nature of leadership, which was one of Game of Thrones longest-running threads. Daenerys, Tyrion, and Jon were often presented as leaders with distinct, crucial skill sets that rarely overlapped; Tyrion as the strategist and master negotiator, Dany as the conqueror and charismatic leader, and Jon as the just king who wins the trust of the people. For a tantalizing moment, it appeared as if all three would work together to create a super-leader—the three heads of the dragon turned into one mighty regime. That didnt happen.
But even without Dany providing the fire, Jon would have been a good king. Hes not the sharpest sword, but he means well and speaks with integrity. We see that everyday people trust him, and those who have fought with him have witnessed his courage with their own eyes. He may have been able to convince the North not to secede; unlike anyone besides Daenerys, he has a blood claim to the throne. He already represents the union of two kingdoms and two religions. (Three, if you count the fact that Melisandre called on the Lord of Light to raise him from the dead that one time.) He combines fairy-tale origins with personal gravity, a history of victory on the battlefield, and an apparent penchant for justice. Hes got a really good story. Yet in the end, the show—and Tyrion—ignores that.
I havent been a fan of this seasons twists and turns, especially when it came to how Game of Thrones female characters have been treated. As if to anticipate my protestations, “The Iron Throne” spends quite a bit of time with characters painstakingly explaining their behavior—giving the audience as little doubt as possible about what the story is intended to convey. (Tyrion and Jons urgent conversation about what to make of Danys fiery temper tantrum would have come in handy this time last week.) Its helpful that the twist that puts Bran on the throne comes attached with further lines of explanation—yet that explanation cant hold up to the slightest scrutiny, whether from the logistical angle of Brans rule or from Tyrions purported angle of “story.”
More to the point, I dont know what were supposed to take from this ending. Are we supposed to believe that Westeros has changed so much that a high-born, handsome war hero in his 20s isnt a natural candidate for the throne? True, this resolution of Jons story was apparently sanctioned by George R.R. Martin, who divulged an unknown number of future plot points to Thrones show-runners David Benioff and D.B. Weiss as the show threatened to overtake his original novels. Evidently, this sagas mastermind believes that the mythos of a just king, born for the throne, needs to be destroyed. Its laudable to suggest that a single person isnt going to solve all our problems—but at the same time, its very human to hinge our faith on heroes and idols, on kings and demigods.
The story Martins work implies is the one Id like to see on-screen—not the inner-chamber debate that led to a strange new king, but the struggle that pushed a nation away from relying on a just king, and toward the idea of dismantling monarchy entirely. Not the shows slapdash resolution of dangling plot threads, but an exploration of power and duty and righteousness, from characters teetering between life-and-death stakes. Id like to understand the tensions at play; Id like to go inside the characters minds. Good tales are more than sentences outlining themes, bound together in a paragraph and shot, cannon-like, into the faces of the viewing audience.
Tyrion is right: when done right, stories are more powerful than anything. But they have to be crafted well. Game of Thrones is over now; with it, I hope, goes our need to try to explain away the gaps in logic the last few seasons presented—the leaps that skipped over so much of the rich detail that made the series enchanting in the first place. Perhaps Martin will manage the impossible and guide us back to reading two books full of plot we already know so that we can be more gently led to his conclusion. Until then, well have to be satisfied with this a final season that feels like a flung dart. Game of Thrones may have gotten the ending it aimed for—but it didnt do much to earn it.
Get Vanity Fairs HWD NewsletterSign up for essential industry and award news from Hollywood.Full ScreenPhotos:Game of Thrones: 7 Other Shows That Tried to Take the Crown
Black Sails
The swashbuckling Starz series, which ran for four seasons from 2014 to 2017, followed a disparate band of pirates, promising all the old-timey sex and violence of Thrones in a more quasi-realistic setting. Executive produced by Michael Bay, the series actually did well with critics before coming to a close for good.Photo: By David Bloomer/Starz/Everett Collection.
Into the Badlands
AMC took a big, fantastical swing with Into the Badlands, a dystopian series about a fearsome fighter (Daniel Wu) and a poor boy (Aramis Knight) with dark potential. The show, which debuted in 2015 and will end this year, wasnt a ratings smash upon release, but has garnered strong reviews with each passing season.Photo: By Aidan Monaghan/AMC.
Marco Polo
In 2014, Netflix entered the realm of big-budget spending with Marco Polo, a 10-episode epic about the Italian explorer (played by Lorenzo Richelmy). The series clocked in at a reported $90 million, but never found its footing with viewers or critics, leading the streamer to cancel it two years later (a rare move at the time).Photo: By Sanja Bucko/Netflix.
Reign
If theres any direct parallel between Thrones and the TV it inspired, look no further than Reign, the CWs drama about Mary, Queen of Scots (played by Adelaide Kane). Though there were no fantasy elements, the show focused on a teenaged Marys quest to rule—punctuated by as much raunch as the network could get away with. The series ultimately ran for four seasons from 2013 to 2017.Photo: By Ben Mark Holzberg/The CW/Everett Collection.
The Bastard Executioner
Perhaps we spoke too soon about parallels, because, well—remember The Bastard Executioner? Created by Sons of Anarchys Kurt Sutter, the 2015 FX series followed a knight in 14th-century Wales who becomes a bloody executioner. Critics gutted the show, which ended up getting canceled after just one season.Photo: From FX Networks/Everett Collection.
The Shannara Chronicles
Based on the book trilogy, The Shannara Chronicles was MTVs turn at the fantasy bat. Set in a fictional realm called the Four Lands, the series followed elves fighting demons (to put it very simply). The 2016 show developed a passionate fandom, but was canceled after two seasons. It has since been shopped to other networks.Photo: From the Everett Collection.
Vikings
Historys 2013 series, based on the legendary tales of Viking Ragnar Lothbrok, follows a groRead More – Source
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