On Game Of Thrones, No One Was Safe — Now Everyone Is

At the end of the opening season of Game of Thrones, we contained our hands to our mouths at the prospect of Ned Stark's imminent execution. Surely, the show wouldn’t kill off its main character. Not Ned, the moral compass of an otherwise unruly cast of degenerates all battling it out for the Iron Throne. But the executioner’s blade fell, and Sansa Stark screamed as her father's head rolled to the ground. And thus started a dark, boldly original narrative — one that catapulted Game of Thrones to the best of HBO’s programming, and ends next month once the show wraps its eighth and final season.


Nevertheless with just three episodes left, has the show finally lost its steam?


The most recent episode of the drama ("The Long Night") was the long-awaited showdown between the living, led by Jon Snow, and the dead, led by the Night King. This conflict has been brewing from the first scene of the very first episode, any time the White Walkers were introduced to us as Westeros’s looming, mysterious threat. Over the course of eight seasons, that threat has habitually lingered, yet we still knew very little about the Night King's motivations and, most importantly, the purpose of his fixation with the Three-Eyed Raven, Bran Stark. Immediately after seasons of steely-gazed buildup between the Night King and Jon Snow, Arya Stark was the one to deliver the fatal blow to the supreme leader of the undead, wiping out his entire army of wights in the process.


While Arya definitely earned the moment — her training began all of the way back in Season 1 — the chapter on the undead was closed all abruptly, plus it made little impact on the game of thrones the show’s characters have been playing for centuries.


One couldn’t help although feel that the Night King’s end was a little anticlimactic. He died no more transparent than he existed, a mere plot device to temporarily distract our heroes from their larger power struggle. Right now, immediately after conquering the undead, they turn their attention South to King's Landing to stage one final battle with Cersei Lannister. Will more of our heroes perish in the crossfire? At this rate, maybe not.


Right considering that, this epic battle for Winterfell and the Seven Kingdoms turned out to be light on death. There were hordes of nameless Dothraki, Freefolk, and soldiers of the North who perished and were remade into soldiers of the undead. Nevertheless there were no meaningful losses on the battlefield (unless you count Dolorous Edd’s with little effort telegraphed exit). Beric Dondarrion had been dead on numerous occasions, what was one, more final exit? Lyanna Mormont somehow took down a giant. Melisandre, the plot device that kicks the show in the shins any time it needs a jolt, died of her own accord.


Theon Greyjoy and Ser Jorah Mormont were the only show-stopping casualties. However they wrapped up character arcs that were, let’s face it, kind of predictable. Theon, on this redemption road since forever, had to perish for someone; it just wasn’t clear if it could be for his sister, Yara, or a member of the Stark family member (“You’re Greyjoy as well as a Stark,” Jon instructed him in Season 7). And Ser Jorah fought through hell and high water for Daenerys all of the way to the end. There was nothing left for him to do, however at least he died having made his family member name delighted with a Valyrian steel sword in his hands.


"The Long Night"'s problem — clearly visible plot armor that robs pivotal characters’ conflicts of any real danger — began in Season 6 any time Jon Snow rushed headfirst into a battle with Ramsay Bolton’s enormous army, facing an opposing horde twice the size of his own. Yet Snow’s plot armor was made of Valyrian steel. Arrows felled boys all around him, nevertheless he emerged unscathed. He was literally buried under a mountain of terrified males and corpses, only to magically rise to the best for the sake of a callback to the finale of the third season. He was the opening onto the battlefield and the last one out, given the honor of punching Bolton to the point of death. The rugged, grotesque aesthetic was visually outstanding. Although the logic beyond Jon Snow’s determination to be the classic hero cheapened the victory and the show for it. In Season 7, he took on the army of the undead with a crowd of people and, at one point, became the only one still involved in the fight. Just as he was about to kick the bucket, again, he’s saved; this time by Daenerys who just so happened  to be in the correct place at the correct time.


Jon's luck continued in the Battle of Winterfell. He chased immediately following the Night King by himself, literally immersed in a gigantic cavalcade of previously raised soldiers, only to take them out one by one. Immediately after looking him up and down, the Night King could sense the episode’s writers were on Snow’s side. He turned around and walked away. I sighed. Minutes later, Snow was engaged in a screaming match with a undead dragon and was saved from becoming the banner of the Flayed Man by Arya Stark’s twist-for-the-sake-of-not-being-too-predictable: stabbing the Night King. Jon lives another day, again. So does (almost) each person else. And right now we march onwards past the show’s biggest battle.


The earliest seasons of Game of Thrones thrived on their unpredictability. George R.R. Martin’s source material is riveting and perplexing, giving characters the axe without warning. There was a sense that each episode would be a character’s last because that’s just how life is. We don’t routinely complete our character arcs — we just perish. And in Game of Thrones’ early goings, people died. There was no plot armor. Characters made believable nevertheless ill-fated decisions and suffered the repercussions of their actions. Nothing felt inexpensive, and every death felt earned. I was shocked once Robb Stark died up until I realized that he was the cliche. He was the opening place on Earth, charismatic son, seemingly unkillable in combat, on a path to retake the kingdom in the name of his betrayed father. For Martin and the showrunners, he was a required sacrifice to get to the real story.


But blowing past this epic source material made Game of Thrones play fast and loose with the logic and suspense of the narrative. As soon as Sam Tarly is a hardened wight slayer who battles a squadron of the undead without so much as a scratch on his face, you won’t find it as fun. As soon as Ser Brienne of Tarth and Podrick Payne survive frontline assaults by numerous wights while each person around them dies — nevertheless not the blacksmith Gendry, needless to say — the scenes feel like nothing more than elaborate CGI without stakes or a sense of meaning.


So close to the end, Game of Thrones has been robbed of its venom. It’s no longer a snake. It’s a belt.