One of the best things about a long-form narrative on television is how one’s interpretation of the earliest installments can be changed over time.  Some of my favorite shows, such as Babylon 5 or Lost, inspire the devoted viewer to go back and rewatch the beginning of the story, to see how later revelations have been foreshadowed or bring new meaning to seemingly minor plot points.  And if a show is based on a series of novels, it can make one want to go back and delve into the source material again, if only to get a deeper appreciation of the tapestry unfolding.  Game of Thrones is such a series.

 

Taken in isolation, this episode would feel like a bit of a transitional installment, with various plot threads moving incrementally forward.  That is, it would if there weren’t plenty of colorful and interesting characters to follow on those journeys.  Some developments are going to be irritating to those looking for quick pacing, but such viewers should remember that the big moments have such impact because the time was taken to make us care about the characters in the first place.

 

This is no more obvious than with Daenerys and her motivations.  I can’t exactly argue with the frustration that Dany is likely to get mired in her mission to liberate and rule in Slaver’s Bay, but at least the time was taken to flesh out her reasons.  Her scenes in this episode were the best presentation of the arguments to postpone a trip to Westeros yet, beating even some of what was revealed in the source material.  The fact that Dany’s activities are now being regularly discussed in Westeros, just as news from Westeros is getting to Dany, should be enough to justify caution.  Yes, it’s all designed to keep Dany from interfering with the plotlines in Westeros until the timing is right, but those mechanics are bolstered with logic.

 

Arya and the Hound also have a relative lack of forward momentum, but character motivations for Arya are right there in every second of their scenes.  Arya clearly hasn’t forgotten about her oath to kill the Hound, and neither has he.  Arya’s practice at waterdancing is more than just a reminder that she’s been given some training and that it’s important to her sense of self (an important point going forward), but also presents an opportunity to show how her Braavosi-style training probably won’t help much against the Hound, his armor, and that big sword.  In other words, if Arya is going to get her vengeance, it’s going to require a different approach.

 

Brienne and Podrick spend a bit of time bonding, which feels pretty natural as an evolution of Brienne’s character.  The fact that it's not how this plays out in the source material demonstrates how adaptations need to keep the medium of the final product in mind.  Brienne’s mission is going to take a while, and having someone like Pod along for the ride from the beginning gives the writers someone to bounce her internal monologues against.

 

Similarly, the changes to the narrative above the Wall do a great deal to show the audience (rather than tell them) how Jon Snow is evolving into a leader.  If he is going to convince the majority of the brothers at Castle Black that he is right about the threat of Mance’s army, he needs to give them a meaningful demonstration of his credibility.  Taking out the traitors at Craster’s Keep is a good way to do that, and it also serves the purpose of keeping the action going while “quieter” plot threads march forward.

 

Bran’s scenes, on the other hand, seem designed to provide a more active circumstance for fleshing out his mission further North.  There are a lot of little developments that essentially combine elements from much less action-oriented situations in the novels.  Bran’s connection to the weirwood trees is reconfirmed, as is the connection between Bran, the Reeds, and Hodor.  Not to mention, of course, that Bran’s questionable usage of Hodor gets another major example; in a very real way, this is just as disturbing a denial of agency as Jamie’s rape of Cersei.

 

Speaking of Cersei, with the coronation of Tommen, the game continues in a new yet familiar form.  Cersei seems a bit more “together” than she’s been since Joffrey’s death, and she displays a remarkable degree of self-awareness and honesty.  It takes her seemingly hysterical madness and renders it far more insidious.  She’s not operating out of grief or trauma; she knows exactly what she’s doing when it comes to Tyrion and Jamie.  And while concern for her children is paramount, it’s hard to ignore that she’s using that concern to make moves to strengthen the Lannister position.

 

It wouldn’t be an episode of Game of Thrones this season without a major revelation that may or may not be a deviation from or anticipation of material to come in the novels.  Most of what happens with Littlefinger, Lysa, and the rest of the crazies in the Vale is more or less implied in the source materials, and this is both another example of “show, don’t tell” and a way to lead into events to come later in the season.

 

On the other hand, Petyr’s discussion with Lysa about the plot to kill Jon Arryn is delivered in such a ham-fisted manner that it doesn’t feel like an organic evolution of the story, even if it is entirely consistent with the source material.  It’s also in keeping with Petyr’s overall tactics of using anything and everything to play the game and undermine potential rivals to his own goals.  Using a personal plot as a means to set off a destabilizing series of wars is right out of Petyr’s playbook, and one wonders how long he was plotting.  Lysa might have good reason to worry about having Sansa around.