[MASSIVE spoilers throughout. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200 if you haven’t watched the episode.]
Let’s have a chat.
Since I began watching Game of Thrones religiously, after I read all of the books, I’ve been waiting for this week’s episode. When George RR Martin first announced that Storm of Swords, the third book in his Song of Ice and Fire series, would be split into Seasons 3 and 4 of the TV series, I knew exactly what the last couple of episodes of the third season would entail.
I was awaiting — almost with joy — the moment when the Red Wedding would take place. It would bring with it the single most monumental turning point in the books: the death of the North and the solidification of the Lannister empire. It would send the Starks into disarray, with the remaining children all now separated and hundreds of miles apart from each other. I imagined myself smiling as the episode would begin, my eyes focused on my wife as the scene unfolds. “WHOA!” she would say. “I bet you weren’t expecting THAT,” I’d reply. Then we’d discuss it, she’d ask about what happens next, and we’d have a great TV moment to share at the watercooler.
What actually happened was far from that.
My eyes were focused on my wife as the scene unfolded, but instead of “WHOA” there was an eerie silence. My wife sat there, with her hand covering her mouth, showing more emotion than I’ve ever seen her show while watching TV. She was shocked, and somehow I knew that she was saddened. Afterward, we didn’t discuss it. We went to bed, tired from the cliff we had just fallen from.
I’m only going to focus on the Red Wedding, because that was clearly the center of the episode. Though there were important happenings with the myriad other cast members, we’ll follow up with them later. The Red Wedding — which I’ll refer to as RW from here on — was what this entire season, and the last, was building up to.
There are three moments that struck me hard in the episode, that genuinely left me shocked and humbled, pulling at those emotional strings that I didn’t expect to happen having already known the outcome. None of them are in the book, coincidentally, or are extremely altered from their written form. But first, we need to talk about Lord Walder Frey.
David Bradley’s rendition of Walder Frey of the Twins is spot on. He’s a continuation of a theme of aging evil lords who take young brides, strictly to keep the balance of power in their favor. When we first met him in 2011’s Baelor episode, he was fiendishly striking a deal to have Robb wed one of his daughters. Now that the oath has been broken and the plan has fallen through, he’s vengeful toward the Stark clan. He pushes and pulls Robb throughout the episode, insulting him, his wife, and his family name. At times he’s even completely ambivalent towards the situation, acting both negatively and as if he doesn’t care. He’s a sick and twisted old man. With the possibility of a future King grandson now gone, he’s satisfied with his murder of the Starks as his giant lasting legacy. And now, he’s reaping the rewards of having signed a deal with the Lannisters.
In just once episode, Frey has joined the ranks of some of the most evil characters in television history. I hate Walder Frey, and I’m sure that anyone who watched feels the same. It’s impossible to leave this feeling otherwise. I kept thinking “if I only had a sword, I’d warn Robb and I’d kill Frey.” But I can’t; I could only sit and watch, preparing for the inevitable. Preparing as a demon of a man had his way with the rites of honor and hospitality, with the future of Westeros, and with the future of a noble House in the Starks.
House Stark. The family that was finally having a stroke of good luck in their plan to take down Casterly Rock and reclaim the North. The family that we’ve invested so much time into, that we feel as if their children are our own cousins. And it was all gone in a matter of seconds.
I mentioned that there were three moments that struck me with a force. Those moments — Talisa’s death, Catelyn calling to Robb, and the final scene — left me completely shaken.
Talisa, whom we’ve come to respect as both a caring Queen and a soon-to-be mother, is stabbed repeatedly in her belly. Her unborn child, carrying the Stark name as the child heir to the North, represented our hope for the North’s future. It (we never find out if it was to be a male or female) was even to be named after Ned Stark, Robb’s father. A better set up for a strong and free Winterfell there couldn’t have been. But watching Talisa murdered, stabbed mercilessly by one of the guards directly into her womb, was gut wrenching. I suppose that the child was both a threat to the Freys and Lannisters, and a constant reminder of the broken oath, but it was tough to endure even for a Lannister fan like me.
And Walder Frey sat on his chair and smiled.
As Robb is peppered with arrows, using every last ounce of his energy to go to his murdered wife, Catelyn calls out to him to leave. Her voice, raspy and stricken with fear, conveys anguish and pain. She’s lost everything: her husband, her children (to her knowledge) and now her only remaining eldest son. She’s in such distress for her son that she can’t even cry. She can only scream, hoping that somehow, some way this is all a nightmare that she will awaken from. She’s emotionally caught in the split second between shock and complete loss. It’s enough to make us want to call our own mothers, just to assure them that we’re alright.
And through that, Walder Frey sat on his chair and smiled.
Finally, when Catelyn is lost to the realization that there is no escape, that her world has crumbled, that she has just witnessed what no mother ever wants to see — the death of her son — she accepts despair. We’re left with an uncomfortably long few moments watching her. She pauses, takes her last breath, and her throat is sliced open. She stands like a statue for nary half a second in utter silence, reminding us of the magnitude of what we have just witnessed, leaving us to ponder and wonder about what happens next. Then, she falls. We don’t see her body hit the ground; our camera is still frozen in time staring at a wall in front of us.
Then credits. And then, most likely, Walder Frey sits on his chair and smiles.
The emotional highs and lows of this week haven’t been felt by me for years. The episode is more than just water cooler talk, it becomes family talk. It becomes outrage. It becomes sadness. It becomes one of the moments that we remember for the rest of our lives. “I saw Robb Stark die, while I sat on my couch.” And I guess that’s what makes this series so wonderful and memorable. The emotional roller coaster, at times letting us cheer and at others forcing us to weep, is the backbone of the show.
And wow, I have no idea how they can top this.
[All images courtesy HBO]
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