Game of Thrones: The Family Business of Ruling the World

A family name is useful, until it isn't

The houses of Westeros have histories that reach beyond the immediate story. Children inherit obligations along with their privileges, and the adults have not necessarily learnt more sensible ways of handling either. An insult can matter for years. A marriage proposal can be a military decision in better clothes.

That is what makes the politics so enjoyable. People argue about honour and rightful rule while also worrying about their own children, money and survival. A public principle and a private motive can sound remarkably similar when the right person delivers the speech.

The world is big enough to get lost in

Winterfell, King's Landing and the lands beyond the Wall feel different before anyone explains them. The clothes, manners and expectations change with the place. Travel initially has weight: leaving somewhere means separation, uncertainty and time in which other people can act.

The fantasy grows out of that established world. You don't have to arrive as a committed reader of fantasy novels to care about it. The human disputes are immediately recognisable, while the larger mysteries give them an unsettling backdrop. The people competing for power are not necessarily paying attention to the most important danger.

I particularly like how much of the early tension comes from incomplete knowledge. The audience can know something a character doesn't, yet still have no obvious answer for what that character should do.

An ensemble worth the attention

Peter Dinklage makes Tyrion's wit both entertaining and defensive. He is enjoyable company, but the jokes don't erase the family situation that produces them. Lena Headey gives Cersei a wonderful capacity to make a civil exchange feel hostile. You can see her deciding how much contempt to let through.

Sean Bean's Ned Stark has an entirely different assurance: he expects certain standards to mean something. Charles Dance, as Tywin Lannister, barely needs to raise his voice to establish who expects obedience. The contrast between those kinds of authority is more interesting than a simple division into heroes and villains.

Natalie Dormer brings a knowing warmth to Margaery Tyrell. A smile can be sincere, useful or both. Emilia Clarke, meanwhile, gives Daenerys's uncertainty and determination a clear personal centre even when the world around her grows much larger.

The spectacle has something behind it

The battles work best because the preparation has made the positions matter. You understand why people are there and what they believe they are protecting. The size of the production adds to that investment rather than having to create it from nothing.

Ramin Djawadi's music is an enormous part of the experience. The opening theme still promises an evening of proper television. Recurring musical ideas give families and places a presence even before the dialogue catches up.

For all the money visible on screen, some of the strongest scenes depend on little more than two well-cast actors watching each other. A lavish production is welcome; knowing when to let it sit behind a conversation is better.

Where the patience starts to go

The later seasons move faster, and not always to their benefit. Distances that once created obstacles become easier to cross. Some decisions get less preparation than they need, while the scale of the action continues to increase. The result can look magnificent and still leave the reasoning behind it feeling thin.

That is a real reservation, not a reason to pretend the whole series was a mistake. The early and middle stretches contain far too much exceptional television for that. I still recommend the show strongly. I would simply rather have had more of the patience that made its complicated choices convincing in the first place.

More than its final argument

Discussion of Game of Thrones can become a debate about the last stretch before anyone mentions what made it such a pleasure. The family tensions, the humour, the competing loyalties and the sheer range of performances are not cancelled out by disagreement over its finish.

It remains a remarkably absorbing place to spend time. Once the names and relationships settle in, the size of the ensemble becomes a strength: a small change in one part of the world can alter your understanding of a conversation somewhere else. Very few shows sustain that many reasons to keep watching.