The Game of Thrones Asshole Surplus
Guys. I’ve got a scolding hot take for you. Ready? I like Game of Thrones.
Though I’ve never read the books, I watched the first episode the night it aired, and I’ve been a loyal follower ever since. Game of Thrones, above all else, felt like the big cultural behemoth it is now from the very beginning, and while I think its caused a certain amount of collateral damage to the TV landscape (the rise of the needlessly myopic television show, etc.), I’ve always considered myself a fan.
But I’ve never loved it, and when people bring it up in “greatest of all time” conversations, that’s when I conveniently go to the bathroom.
The reasons why are multitudinous, but most of them boil down to the simple fact that when you have a show as massive and sprawling as Game of Thrones, there will always be a handful of storylines that don’t hold their weight. In season three, for example, Daenerys was conquering Astapor in style, weddings were turning red, and Jamie and Brienne were having their adventures on the road. It's one of the best seasons of the show. However, Theon spent the entire season being tortured in a dungeon and Jon Snow learned over and over again from Ygritte that he knew nothing. Game of Thrones is a unique vehicle for a specific type of storytelling, and though that vehicle delivers its share of astounding moments, it’s also one that stalls. A lot.
However, I made my peace with that element of Game of Thrones a long time ago. At some point, you accept that all shows have limitations, and life becomes more enjoyable if you can learn to deal with them and love 'em regardless. So I told myself, “As long as the number of stories that don’t work on Game of Thrones remains lower than the number of stories that do work, I’m good.” And it has, for the most part.
Instead, I want to talk about an issue in Game of Thrones that gets to me more and more every season, and that is its overreliance on assholes. You know, those characters you love to hate, or in more and more cases these days, “love” to hate with big exaggerated air quotes that don't translate well in writing. Your Joffreys and your Ramseys and what have you. The characters with nary an ounce of humanity that never redeem themselves and never try to. I think the abundance of these characters impact the show in three negative ways.
Spoilers below!
1. It Devalues Asshole-ery on the Show as a Whole
I would be willing to bet that at some point in your childhood, you wondered at least once, “If the government has a problem they need to solve, why don’t they just print out a bunch of extra cash and use that to fix it?” (Or at least you thought this if you were a child growing up in America.) Then one day, before you have any financial stakes in the world around you, your parents (or in my case my eighth grade math teacher) explain to you that the more cash floating around in the ether not being spent, the less value all cash has as a whole.
Or to put it simply with an admittedly flawed analogy, when my checking account's running low, my impulse is to spend as little money as possible and only buy essentials. When I’m flush, my attitude shifts from "Don't spend" to "Fuck it, let's buy a forty dollar box set of Ella Fitzgerald’s Decca recordings". (No, you did that freshman year of college!)
The same concept can be true of the kinds of personalities you choose to inject into your TV show. One comical idiot or crusty but benign cop is fine. However, if you flood your show with only one kind of personality or character trait, you’ll find your audience dwindling because there isn’t anyone worth caring about. Flood the market too much and not only does value sink, but also demand.
Game of Thrones, I feel, has effectively done this with assholes. Of course, not all characters on Game of Thrones are monsters who commit horrible acts. However, there have been enough assholes that whenever any of them do something horrible at this point in the show, I don’t really care anymore.
Case in point: This. At the risk of sounding heartless, I didn't care at all about what happens here. If anything, I got annoyed that he was dragging it out so long.
Take, for instance, Ramsey Bolton. Ramsay has caused more controversy on the show than most, save for maybe Joffrey. It’s not hard to see why. After all, Ramsay, to put it mildly, is a gaping one note asshole. I actually think Iwan Rheon deserves more credit for his performance than he gets because he actually brings a lot to said one note character. But in the broad strokes, he’s a paper thin character who often does cruel things for cruelty’s sake, and every time he does, we don’t learn anything about him and meaning fails to surface. He’s brought into the world an asshole, and that’s how he goes out.
Ramsay was universally hated, but not in the fun way like Joffrey was. However, if we consider the most vile characters Game of Thrones has ever produced, is Ramsay any different than, say, Joffrey or Walder Frey? The same system that produced Joffrey and Walder had a hand in Ramsay, and I don’t recall him ever doing anything that any of the other evil characters wouldn’t or hadn’t done before. So why do we love to hate Joffrey, but roll our eyes at Ramsay?
There's probably a bunch of reasons, but to be perfectly honest, I think it mostly boils down to the simple fact that Joffrey came first.
We’ve seen horrible people rise and fall on Game of Thrones and commit a large number of atrocities in the process. Some of these people, Joffrey being at the top of the list, were huge characters who lasted many seasons. Some, like Craster, the incest machine who lives north of The Wall, only last an episode or two. Either way, these characters cropped up over and over again, and by the time it was Ramsay’s turn to take the big bad reins on the show, we were all fatigued. And the more horrible shit Ramsay did and said, the more that fatigue transformed into impatience.
Cruelty once held a certain amount of significance on Game of Thrones. Now it’s the norm, and at worst, a nuisance.
2. It Traps the Show in Cycles of Repetition
This is Alliser Thorne, played by a fantastic actor named Owen Teale. He’s my least favorite character to have ever been on the show.
True, he’s only committed one atrocious act against a character fans have a vested emotional interest in, as opposed to Joffrey or Frey who have committed several. However, at least the others have a narrative justification for existing. Alliser’s raison d’être, for the most part, is to be an obstacle. (Yes, yes, "Thorn in his side.") He is a soulless machine created to generate conflict, and though the show tried to retcon some humanity into Thorne in the later seasons, for me it was too little too late.
We first meet Thorne when Jon Snow arrives at The Wall. For seemingly no reason, he’s a dick to Jon almost immediately. Is he resentful of Jon’s connection to the Starks, as a few internet comments here and there have led me to believe? Maybe, but the more I sit down and watch Thorne’s scenes and judge his actions and what he says, the more they read to me like someone who has a personal beef that has nothing to do with bloodlines or patria. So is it jealousy? Or does he simply not care for Jon’s attitude? I’m sure there’s a decent answer in the books, but at least in the context of the show, the answer appears to be “Just ‘cause.”
Jon rises in rank. Thorne is a dick. Jon accomplishes stuff. Thorne is a dick. Whenever Jon surpasses Thorne’s expectations, there’s a new set of mental gymnastics, and suddenly Jon is the villain all over again. Eventually, Jon Snow defends The Wall in battle, and Thorne murders him after Jon recruits the Wildlings. Eventually Melisandre resurrects Jon. Jon kills Thorne. The end.
Not to be the smug guy on the internet yelling out “Called it!” But yeah, I called it. Why? Because other than the resurrection element, we’ve seen this play out before.
Joffrey Baratheon was an uncontrollable monster to everybody in his life. He never really had to face an obstacle or do things actual characters do. (Though that’s kind of the point. I’m not saying Joffrey’s a “bad” character so much as emblematic of a problem the show has in evolving.) Though he would occasionally get slapped or get hit with shit, the show usually wheeled him out to do something horrible and move the plot forward. He never shows any humanity. Eventually, he’s murdered by Olenna Tyrell, a beloved character. He lasted until season four.
Had to get this shot in somewhere.
Tywin Lannister was another asshole, though a more cunning one. (Or at least he appears to be more cunning because Charles Dance devours the scenery every time he’s on screen.) He has a hand in orchestrating the Red Wedding, he treats his children like shit, and he conspires against everyone we're rooting for. Eventually he sentences his own son, and one of the most beloved characters on the show, to death. He never shows any humanity. Eventually, he’s murdered by Tyrion, said beloved character and son. He lasted until season four.
Stannis Baratheon spent most of his life being, to put it mildly, a joyless stick in the mud. He was also a monster. A more nuanced monster than most of the monsters on Game of Thrones, but a monster nonetheless. It takes him a while to join the ranks of Joffrey or Walder, but he finally gets there when he sacrifices his daughter at the stake to placate Melisandre. Unlike the others, he did show humanity here and there. But in the end, it didn't matter. Eventually, he’s killed by Brienne, a beloved character. He lasted until season five.
There are many more. I know I’m being a tad bit reductive here, and each of these storylines have their own nuances. I also realize I’m not the first person to point this out. However, I think it’s a point that bears repeating because formulas can take a show you love and turn it into cold mathematics. You’re aware that you’re watching something that functions well, but you feel nothing.
The monsters on Game of Thrones either have no humanity or eventually sacrifice it and ruin any good will they had going. They last a long time, but the biggest defect in their personality eventually comes around to bite them in the ass, and they’re killed by a character who’s in the audience’s good graces.
Not every asshole on Game of Thrones is a big show defining character. Thorne wasn’t as big a presence as some of the others. But because we’ve seen this cycle play out so many times before, Thorne’s death brought me no pleasure or catharsis. It didn’t feel like the culmination of anything. Jon needed yet another obstacle, and Thorne’s neck was there to provide.
Thorne hangs, and the formula is once again fulfilled.
3. It Makes the Universe Feel Smaller
One thing I’ll always respect about Game of Thrones is that it does an incredible job showing how all of its characters come from the same world. The same place that created the Starks also created the Lannisters, and I think the show has thoroughly outlined why that’s the case. This is a medieval society that doesn’t value human life as much as our own, and there’s a different set of standards. After all, the same universe that created men like Walder Frey also labels Ned Stark “noble” for personally executing petty criminals.
In this world, cruelty prospers because there’s no expectation that it’ll be stopped.
However, though Game of Thrones does such a great job detailing the societies of Westeros, this is a show about people fighting for power and a throne, and as such, similar personalities from all the cities and states are going to hog the spotlight regardless of where they’re from or how they grew up. It doesn’t matter if you’re from Dorne or Winterfell or Casterly Rock. Everyone wants the same thing.
Thus, in another admittedly reductive point, it often feels like there are two types of characters on the show: Assholes and “good guys.” The assholes will occasionally dip their toes in the waters of humanity, and the good guys will occasionally do things we find yucky. But both sides have a different taxonomic rank than those who don't seek power. (If we want to mangle our scientific concepts a bit.) The powerful good guys and the powerful assholes will always fight it out, and in the end, the snows of winter will gently cover the bodies. Or whatever metaphorical image winds up ending the show.
The advantage of this kind of storytelling is that Game of Thrones can constantly deliver massive world shattering moments, and it’s always thrilling to watch. Through the eternal struggles of powerful men jockeying for the crown, we get to have epic blockbuster battles and scenes such as the one where Cersei blows up a quarter of the cast in one fell swoop, solidifying her power and hopefully clearing a whole lot of room in the budget for some big grandiose stuff in its final seasons.
The disadvantage, however, is a sense of tunnel vision. Everybody wants the iron throne for the same fundamental reasons. Thus we lose the perspective of anyone who doesn’t want to play the game, and to me at least, the world feels smaller as a result.
For contrast’s sake, let us look at another show that built a big world: Firefly. Now, these shows have different goals, and ultimately it’s not fair to compare them. However, Firefly feels like a big world to me, and Game of Thrones doesn’t, despite having a larger cast and a much higher budget to do bigger shit.
And now, once again, I want to rewatch Firefly.
The rulers of the Firefly universe already seized power a long time ago. They make an appearance here and there, but we’re mostly watching Mal and his crew get by through living in the shadows and interacting with those who live under the Alliance’s boot. As such, we get to go all over the universe and meet people from not only desolate worlds where they sling mud for a living, but also big shiny cities with flying cars. We see how the societies differ from one another. Somebody who lives on one of the outer planets will have a different set of aspirations than those who live on the Alliance planets, and each planet has a different set of wants and needs. But we also get the sense that this is one big literal universe where all these planets can coexist, even though conflict is almost inescapable.
So to me at least, the Firefly universe feels massive.
(Note: Firefly also has the advantage of trapping a bunch of characters together from different parts of the universe in one confined space, and thus the differences can be made more clear.)
Game of Thrones feels like one universe, and different cultures exist in its framework. However, they all run on the same trajectory. If you’re of the ruling class, you’ll fight for power, and you’ll either be an asshole or a good guy. If you’re somebody in between, you effectively don’t exist. With the possible exception of Dany, those fighting for the throne don’t care about their subjects, and thus we don’t either.
This isn’t to say that we don’t occasionally see how most of the people who populate Westeros live. I loved the theater stuff with Arya, for example, almost as much as I love whoever threw that shit in Joffrey’s face. Both show how “the people” feel about those in power, and how easily they can be manipulated.
This also isn’t to say that the show needs to start focusing on the daily struggle of farmers and bankers, especially this late into the show’s lifespan.
I am saying, however, that the frame in which the show is built is a double edged sword. It can deliver huge moments, but at the expense of limiting the world to the actions of assholes and good guys.
And hey, If that’s all you need, that’s all you need. That’s totally fine. But I want a little more.
So when the show introduces yet another monster into the mix, it reminds me of how small this fictional universe can feel. Joffrey, Walder, and Ramsay come from vastly different cultures, but they also have more in common than not. When we’re in King’s Landing following Joffrey, and then later we cut to Ramsay in Dreadfort, I know from looking at the map that the two places are hundreds, if not thousands of miles apart. However, on an emotional/metaphorical level, they feel like they’re right next to each other. The bridge between them isn’t shortened by a literal decline of land mass, but a cycle of asshole-ery that plays out in almost identical patterns.
Or to put it another way, I know how far away Russia actually is from where I currently sit. Now thanks to Trump, I feel like I can walk there. Of course I don’t mean that literally but… never mind.
I’d like to end things by restating that I do consider myself a fan of the show. I may be critical of it, and there are times when I find the show frustrating on an annoyingly primal level. But at this moment in time, I have every intention on sticking with it until the very end, and I’m probably going to tackle the books once the show is finally over.
I don’t know what to expect in the show’s endgame, but I’m looking forward to it. With the death of Ramsay, we don’t have a whole lot of one note assholes left anymore. In fact, apart from the Night King, the most villainous character still breathing is Cersei, and I think she’s one of the best developed characters the show has to offer. We’re also venturing into territory where characters we like are going to have to fight one another. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but at some point, I’d bet that a character we all love will kill another character we all love. I'm not a masochist or anything, but it’ll be truly unmapped territory for the show, and I'm eager to see how it plays out.
I just wish we got there sooner rather than spending all of our time with these assholes.
