House of the Dragon worships the old show and the new.
There’s no place like Westeros…there’s no place like Westeros…
The Short Take:
The first episode of House of the Dragon wastes no time in thrusting us back into the signature violence, sex, and political machinations of its predecessor. A complex, more focused family dynamic grounds it all.
Dragon Count: 2
Image Credit: Nerdist
[Spoiler-free for a little less than half the review. Don’t worry, I’ll roar before switching to a spoilery discussion.]
The Long Take:
In the context of entertainment history, a lot rides on this series because we are at a crossroads. Will Game of Thrones become a full blown IP franchise, or will we only remember it as a television series that happened to have a prequel spin-off? If House of the Dragon can deliver, and deliver enough such that viewers forgive or forget the disappointing final season of Game of Thrones, HBO could make multiple series in perpetuity, raising the George R. R. Martin-verse to the level of Marvel or Star Wars. Considering reports that this past Sunday was HBO’s biggest premiere yet, we may already be well on our way to that.
Ryan Condal and Miguel Sapochnik’s adaptation of Martin’s Targaryen history, Fire and Blood (which I started but never finished, unfortunately), reflects a keen awareness of these high stakes, as so much of the episode features familiar touchstones from the heights of the progenitor series. Even casual fans will recognize many familiar names, places, and conflicts re-presented in the prequel, set 172 years before Daenerys’ birth [insert obligatory “KALEESI!!!” here]. I lost count of how many houses/families I recognized through minor characters or in passing conversations. We spend time on the Iron Throne, in a brothel, and at a small council table. We meet maesters giving questionable medical advice, prostitutes acting as therapist consorts, and soldiers beating up people in the streets. Characters repeatedly make references to the Sept and discuss the arrangement of marriages. There are whispers and backdoor conversations. Key phrases like “the old gods and the new” and “dracarys” echo like bats trying to find their way home. Remember what you loved about the other show? They’re giving it all to you again.
More forcefully and noticeably, though, this premiere leans hard into the graphic spectacles that made waves when Game of Thrones first aired in 2011, setting it apart from other fantasy series. The sexually explicit scenes were exactly what I would have expected — I did mention earlier that there’s a brothel. The violence, however, seemed even more intense. Perhaps it was just a higher volume for one episode, but part of me thinks that the type of violence or the nature of the violence was more on the brutal end of the Thrones spectrum, which is saying something.
I’m usually hyper-spoiler-sensitive in these reviews, but I do feel a responsibility to warn anyone who has not yet watched the episode that there is a birthing scene that I could barely stomach. I actually had a pillow in front of my face for a good portion of it because it was too visceral and evocative of my own labor and delivery experiences. And that’s only one of three extremely gory sequences I can think of off the top of my head. (The other two are more combat-focused.)
In spite of all these potentially desperate nods to and reminders of what made Game of Thrones singularly great, I did not feel as though the series performed a surface-level rehashing or carbon copying. There was enough new material to set this apart from Thrones, especially in the relationships established between our three main characters.
In the trailer and in this episode, King Viserys says one of the lines that best sets up the premise of the show: “I will not be made to choose between my brother and my daughter.” While desperately trying to produce a male heir, Viserys’ court debates who should inherit the Iron Throne: the young and carefree dragon rider, Princess Rhaenyra, or the reckless bloodmonger Daemon, a proper position for whom Viserys has struggled to find.
Image Credit: Vanity Fair
To be honest, I would have tuned in for standard Game of Thrones goodness no matter what, but the scenes establishing the complex relationships between these three characters were what ultimately sold me on this entire undertaking. There’s love and caring in some and searing resentment in others. And it all makes sense together — makes these characters more believable. I would have assumed that would be difficult considering they’re Targaryens, who, as Rhaenyra says in the episode, are closer to gods than men.
The story, to me, seems more tightly focused on these three characters, from the same house and concentrated in the same place (at least for now). So, hopefully, House of the Dragon will not be at risk for some of the pacing issues from which Game of Thrones Season 8 suffered. For me, the biggest disappointment of Thrones was Daenerys’ turn from breaker of chains to mad queen. Maybe I never would have liked that fate for one of my favorite characters, but more time for that development to build and breath would have certainly softened the blow. Arguably, I can blame the rushing of key character arcs on the many houses and storylines the creators had to weave together at that point. It may be too soon to tell, of course, but House of the Dragon does not seem like it will have this problem.
Before I move on to spoilers, I’ll make my recommendation. If you devoted every Sunday to Game of Thrones when it was on, then you will almost certainly enjoy how House of the Dragon starts. Conversely, if you didn’t enjoy Game of Thrones — especially if you thought there was too much sex and violence — then this series will likely repeat that experience. House of the Dragon is only a fresh start in its story; its tone and milieu extends what we’ve seen before.
[I will now hurl SPOILERS at you, like a dragon breathing fire. Rawr.]
Even though the violence was tough for me to watch — perhaps even more intense than OG Thrones — I would not call it gratuitous. In the season preview at the end of the episode and various interviews, Miguel Sapochnik has said that he’s never believed in violence for violence’s sake. The brutality always has to advance the story in some way. I’d say that he accomplished his goal, especially in making the choice to intercut the hyper-violent tournament with the equally perilous birthing room. Even before hearing Sapochnik talk about this scene, I thought that it illustrated how the patriarchal society of Westeros exploits women for the sake of royal succession and political power. I’ve seen some complaints about how the show, and not the characters within the show, exploit women by graphically displaying a violent and bloody birth trauma, but I think the show indicts Viserys and the maesters as opposed to fetishizing violence against women. Are those two things always mutually exclusive, though? How do we really know if we’re getting one or the other?
And how culpable is Viserys in Aemma’s death? The maester implies that both mother and child are going to die anyway, so they might as well “sacrifice one” to save one instead of “losing them both.” But I found his language intentionally vague and hypothetical in a way that obscures what the prognosis actually was. Furthermore, Viserys latches onto the idea of saving his baby (that he is convinced will be a male heir), in a way that seems like selective hearing to me. He very quickly agrees to the crude, dangerous c-section. And at no point does he or anyone else consult with or even inform Aemma. The blocking of the scene, to me, implies that everyone in that room is about to murder an unsuspecting Aemma, as they swiftly and forcefully pull her down the bed, take away her pillow, and hold her down as they make the incision. The confusion and terror on her face was extremely distressing, and, even if she were going to die anyway, makes me feel very uncomfortable with Viserys’ choice.
Image Credit: LA Times
I knew Queen Aemma was doomed from the moment I saw her pregnant belly. Later, her pleading reminder to Viserys of all the failed pregnancies and all the physical trauma that came with them made me 100% sure that she would die in childbirth. But I was not expecting her to lose all agency and become the victim of a patriarchal system that pressured her into repeatedly endangering herself after a pattern of problematic pregnancies emerged. I was not expecting her own husband to lie to her by omission, only repeating the phrases, “they’re going to bring the baby now” and “don’t be afraid.” It’s horrifying.
By paralleling this awful scene with the tournament, the creators have meaningfully highlighted the interconnectedness of royal succession, patriarchy, and violence. In an earlier scene, Queen Emma says to Rhaenyra that their (a woman’s) battlefield is the womb, and the quick editing back and forth reinforces that idea very clearly, as we see the knights and Aemma side-by-side, both fighting for their lives in this perverse “celebration” of the birth of a male heir and continuation of the Targaryen dynasty. Both jousting and birthing are senseless, as well, it seems. The knights slice each other to bits and smash each others’ faces in purely for sport, or as Rhaenys, The Queen that Never Was, argues, to let out pent up aggression during more idle peacetimes. Queen Aemma didn’t really need to put herself through another high risk pregnancy for the political welfare of the realm when her daughter Rhaenyra is right there.
Gender politics have always been a part of Game of Thrones, with Cersei telling her father, Tywin Lannister, that he only cares about her brothers when perhaps she is the one most qualified to carry on the Lannister legacy. Arya bristles when her father, Ned Stark, says that her only option as a woman is to marry a ruler rather than be one herself. Sansa faced her share of discrimination as Queen in the North when so many endorsed Jon Snow instead. But House of the Dragon introduces a more rigid version of male primogeniture. (Please correct me if you disagree!). In our world, England never legally prohibited female heirs — they only gave preference to male ones. Female heirs were not, however, socially accepted by English nobility for centuries, similar to how many in court snub Rhaenys and later Rhaenyra in House of the Dragon. In 1120, for example, Henry I wanted to name his daughter, Matilda (later known as “Empress Matilda”) as his heir after her brother accidentally drowned, but a woman ruler was unprecedented, and the barons rejected her. When Henry I died in 1153, this dispute precipitated a 15-year civil war called The Anarchy. Sound familiar? England, by the way, only just removed male primogeniture from the laws of succession with The Succession to the Crown Act in 2013. That’s wild.
Though more focused on gender, the political intrigue featured in this first episode is still very reminiscent of Game of Thrones. Each faction of Viserys’ court has its own agenda, and they are all secretly operating to advance those agendas and increase their own power. Otto Hightower seems like the biggest perpetrator of the “present yourself with niceties but secretly harbor ulterior motives that you only discuss behind closed doors” strategy. At the small council meetings, he seems to have Viserys’ back, but then after the death of his king’s wife and son, he sends his own 14-year-old daughter to console the grieving old king in the hopes that she might become his next queen. Otto is such a stark contrast (sorry, can’t help it) to Sean Bean’s Ned from Season 1 of Game of Thrones. He seems like a reasonable advisor initially, but then we quickly see that, just as Daemon warns his brother, he’s interested in his own power and station more than what’s good for his king or the realm. I love the complexity this creates — that Daemon can both be bad news and right. That he can be Viserys’ enemy but also his only true friend.
Image Credit: Forbes
The core Targaryen family has all sorts of complicated and messy dynamics between them, as I mentioned earlier in the non-spoiler version. I was actually quite astounded by how much they established in just one episode. To see Daemon and Rhaenyra speaking high Valyrian to each other while bonding over Valyrian steel instantly made me believe that they were very close. I also relished hearing that much conversation high Valyrian, as I recall only getting snippets of lines here and there in Game of Thrones. With dulcet tones and lilting cadence, it sounds like a more latinate, less modern Italian. The dramatic irony here was palpable because I know from the trailers and other promotional material that, in future episodes, uncle and niece will likely oppose each other fiercely in a civil war. Some of the critics and podcasters I’ve listened to, like David Chen on A Cast of Kings and Richard Lawson on Still Watching, have said that they pick up on some incest vibes here. I did not get that at all because, to me, this scene was more about showing how special and coveted Targaryen culture is, but I am probably more naive than the average viewer. Later in the episode, Daemon tells Rhaenyra that her father needs her now more than ever, and this struck me as similarly caring. I would not have expected that for a stereotypical rogue prince character. (Matt Smith is crushing it, by the way. I enjoy him in general, but this may turn out to be a defining role for him, which is crazy if you consider he’s played both The Doctor and Prince Philip.)
Image Credit: Entertainment Weekly
Much more fun than incest speculation is dragon watch! While I am greedy and always want more dragons, I was pretty satisfied with the dragon time we got in this first episode. If Rhaenyra and Daemon are going to lead opposing sides in a war for the throne, it seems appropriate that their dragons — Syrax and Caraxes — are the ones we meet first. I’m already attached to Syrax. The look she and Rhaenyra exchange during the funeral pyre scene right before she says “dracarys” (Chills! Hot, fiery chills!) was enough to win me over. I actually felt like Syrax was mourning alongside Rhaenyra, or at least picked up on her rider’s grief and felt bad for her. I hope we get a chance to see these and other dragons as characters with personalities rather than flashy adornments.
Image Credit: Nerdist
In general, this episode exceeded my expectations because while it did cash in on many beloved hallmarks of Thrones, it also offered enough exciting new material, enough of a contextual shift to leave me hopeful that House of the Dragon will be able to stand on its own.
Consider the massive revelation that the Targaryens knew about the long winter/whitewalkers long before the Starks encounter them at the start of Game of Thrones because Aegon the Conquerer, the first king of the Targaryen dynasty, had a dream that has been secretly passed down from king to king. Viserys says to Rhaenyra, “Aegon called his dream, “The Song of Ice and Fire.”’ My knee-jerk reaction to this was to assume this was another attempt to remind readers that this new show will bring them back to their Game of Thrones happy place. But, the more I thought about it, the more I saw this lore bomb (which, to my knowledge, has not appeared in any of the books and is completely new information for everyone) as a way of opening up more opportunities for new story, because now I want to know how long the Targaryens can keep the relay race torch going, and what happens such that Daenerys has zero knowledge about this 172 years later.
And now that I want to follow this story, HBO can be ready and waiting with many more seasons of this series, chronicling many more generations of Targaryens, all the way up until someone finally utters the phrase, “winter is coming.” Gotta love that franchise synergy.