The jokes are lazy, the script is lazier, and the disposal of Lori is lazier still.
At the end of it all, the season finale moved heaven and earth to stay faithful to Martin’s narrative.
It gets enough right so that its considerable missteps are disappointing.
Let’s hope our faith isn’t misplaced.
There was something sublime, in the most terrible way, about seeing five seasons of grief and suffering encapsulated in those lifeless and remorseless blue eyes.
Breezy family sci-fi entertainment that introduces moral ideas that it never has the courage to explore.
“I am Sansa stark of Winterfell. This is my home. And you can’t frighten me.”
“Kill the boy, and let the man be born.” No shit.
Season five doesn’t feel like the beginning of the final chapter to me. It feels like the halfway point.
The Stark children are all growing up.