‘Mother’s Mercy’: Winter has arrived on ‘Game of Thrones’
By Kendric Chua, contributor
As of last month, another season has passed and we’re back in that familiar place, picking up the pieces of what’s left of our “Game of Thrones” infatuation. It wasn’t hard for the series to establish its unpredictable personality — it only took the death of Ned Stark in the first season to help us understand that this show was going to be different, that we’re not looking at a story where our heroes can’t die. Said plainly, this finale felt much more saturated with that trademark “Game of Thrones” shock value than the previous finales. Typically finales bring resolution accompanied by a cliffhanger, but this one leaves us with bigger, more difficult questions — not just about the plot of the show, but about its place in the grand scheme of things.
At the beginning of “Mother’s Mercy,” we’re taken into Stannis’ camp where things have taken a turn for the worst, a scene not packed with action but worth a gasp. After we’re introduced to the first shock of the show, the plot then spirals into a constant eruption of events, with bombshells around every corner. From the forward movement of Theon’s moral struggle to Cersei’s walk of shame, this finale is quite the emotional roller coaster. The series balances positive surprise against the tragic kind, creating a pairing of opposing qualities in almost every scene: Arya crossing a name off her list but suffering the consequences of disrespecting the Many-Faced God; Cersei’s repentance that portrayed her as the victim she never was; and Jamie and Myrcella finally having a father-daughter moment, only to see it be short-lived. The pacing of the episode constantly keeps you on your toes, without a breath of fresh air. Sometimes this is a good thing when it’s a necessity for the plot, but when done with a heavy hand, the pacing can come off as a gratuitous shock tactic and the precarious balance falters.
Setting that aside, the finale strayed away from some of “Game of Thrones” traditional visual flavors but not by much. We still see those beautiful establishing shots: the oh-so-awaited snow finally falling on Winterfell, the breathtaking shots of the Narrow Sea at Dorne, all encased by lighting schemes ripped straight out of a Caravaggio painting. One thing that was specifically jarring was a “beat you over the head” approach to cuts (both to matching shots or to black.) In one instance the camera sees Brienne about to execute a fallen enemy, then cuts away right before she can perform the coup de grace.The frustrating overuse of this approach in the episode creates more questions than answers.
Finale director David Nutter has directed one other finale for the series (“Mhysa,” Season 3) and a few more episodes, including the infamous “The Rains of Castamere” (in which the Red Wedding took place). It’s safe to say that the series has put a lot of faith in Nutter and cinematographer Robert MacLachlan, who has worked on most of the same episodes Nutter directed, to handle gigantic story arcs. When it comes to major plot twists and scenes that require more finesse, the pair are a perfect match. Besides the strange cut behavior, Nutter and MacLachlan did a good job with this finale, adding some additional flair to Cersei’s walk of shame that I can only describe as intense and almost biblical in nature. The finale (and quite frankly, the whole season) had a stronger visual effects presence, cranking it up a notch or two … or three. Let’s just say those dragons don’t feel as distant as they did in the previous seasons. The actors can interact effortlessly with CG environments and characters. The sheer quality of this small-screen production is remarkable, an effort definitely worthy of recognition.
We’ve been taken to the edge of Westeros’ history so far, where most of our characters are at the end of George R.R. Martin’s latest book, leaving us with an almost total atmosphere of mystery. There have been allusions to what might transpire in the sixth season, but most of these are nothing more than theories based on fans grasping at straws.This desperation, although expected after each “Game of Thrones” finale, feels much more intense this time around. It wasn’t just any specific plot, event or major catastrophe that has driven most viewers to a decision of whether or not to continue watching, but also the fixed structure and model of how the series appeals to its audience.
D.B. Weiss, David Benioff and Martin have clearly established that “Game of Thrones” isn’t your traditional “bad guys vs. good guys” conflict; it is more about a clash of different worldviews. We get it: the show is dark, much like life. But an important question to ask about the show is, at what point does darkness become unoriginal or played out? What happens when that feeling you get after too many terrible things have occurred just makes you numb? Maybe the question is, do we still want to see this kind of tragedy on television? Do we all still want a genuine reflection of the dark side of human nature and society, or will we start to look for a TV series that inspires us or gives us hope? For “Game of Thrones,” it needs to decide which direction to take; whether to follow the path it’s on, or change and pave a new one. Only then will these questions have answers.