The Watcher - A Game Of Thrones, season two, episode one

WARNING: SPOILERS for the first episode of season two lie beyond, plus spoilers for season one as well.

OK, let's get this out of the way. I don't like George R. R. Martin's prose style and thus I couldn't get into the books. Great plot and some fascinating characters, but the constant shifting narrators was pretentious and detracted from the whole - often creating a frustrating elipsis of time as events were covered by more than one side with little benefit. In the seminal Japanese film, Rashomon, different narrators were used to weave four accounts of a murder, before a final version of the story reveals the truth. This has been mimicked many times since in both films and TV, and of course you can trace its roots throughout storytelling. However, Martin rarely seems to use his changing of the point of view to add to the story.

Thankfully, the TV series benefits from a move to third person narration, presenting us with the interesting plot without the pretentious prose style, reminiscent of a 15 year old boy convinced he'll be the next big thing in fantasy fiction. The characters are brought to life with compelling actors - an international cast that is a credit to HBO's dedication to the series. I loved the first series, pleased to see a television series with the scope of a feature film - and a rare example of an adaptation that surpasses the source material.

And so to the second season of A Game Of Thrones, eagerly awaited both here and in the US (as parodied by Funny Or Die below).

Sunday Is Coming - watch more funny videos

This opening episode is a compelling example of why this series is such a triumph, expertly weaving the introduction of new characters, whilst re-establishing the existing characters. A huge cast, with armies raising in all four corners of Westeros and beyond - juggling that is now small feat, not to mention all the intrigue and petty machinations in the court of King's Landing.

Joffrey has grown into a full blown horror - a malicious and vindictive King who delights in torturing his subjects and tormenting Sansa Stark. Jack Gleeson continues to portray a character I love to hate and I eagerly await his inevitable downfall. Sophie Turner's Sansa is believably hollow and broken after the execution of her father. Thankfully, Tyrion sweeps into the court - newly appointed to the role as Hand of the King - bringing with him better manners, a touch of courtesy and a light humour. All of which belie the towering intellect that resides within this short man. Peter Dinklage continues to deserve every award he receives and has become my favourite character on the show. His knowing banter with Cersei is superb.

Other returning characters find themselves in a variety of new situations. With his brother away to war, young Bran Stark is now Lord of Winterfell in the wake of his father's death. At night he dreams of running through forests as his dire wolf and seeks to visit the same spot the next day. The portentous comet he spots in the sky can be seen across the land, even as far as the Red Waste where Daenerys and her people are suffering from the effects of starvation on their long journey. Even her newborn dragons are refusing to eat the meet they are offered. Through it all, Emilia Clarke's character remains the strong, fiery young leader she matured into during the first season.

In the North, beyond the Wall, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont's party make came with a disgusting new character called Craster - an aging man who makes his daughters into his wives, in order to have more wives. Jon Snow rightly finds this foul man offensive, though he fails to hide his feelings. While this opening episode has very little of the sexposition that the first series became known for, the harsh words from Craster to Jon were a sharp reminder that this is an HBO show and will not pull its punches. It also seems there is a man who has declared himself King-Beyond-The-Wall and is amassing an army. Winter is indeed coming.

The other major host of new characters are another army rising to challenge the Lannister rule. In season one, Ned Stark sent word of Joffrey's true lineage to the late King Robert's eldest brother, Stannis Baratheon, the Lord of Dragonstone. He has pledged himself to a new God, The Lord Of Light and has had all remnants of the older Gods destroyed. A clever and seemingly capable man, Stannis sends ravens to all corners of Westeros, laying claim to the throne and exposing the incest between the Lannister siblings. The Red Priestess who has his ear, Melisandre, is a dangerous new addition to the cast. I look forward to seeing what developments the court of Dragonstone will bring to the series. The island is certainly an intriguing new element in the title sequence.

The episode really is a pleasing balance between the old and new, even stopping in on Robb Stark and his captive, Jamie. A tense exchange that once again showcases just how large the dire wolves have grown. The episode ends with Joffrey's outrage at the message from Stannis. Growing beyond even his manipulative mother's control, the vicious young King orders his guards to murder all of King Robert's illegitimate children. Only one son eludes them - the blacksmith's apprentice Gendry - currently travelling North to the Wall in a caravan with a disguised Arya Stark.

It's triumphant return for the fantasy series, once again blending a variety of locations and a multinational cast to create a TV series that is a true feast, elevating the story above the clumsy prose style and exposition of the source material. Another nine episodes of murder, war, intrigue, manipulation, camaraderie, tragedy and of course, sexposition await are coming. I can't wait.

Ben Fardon is bracing himself for the flamemail from enrage George R. R. Martin fans...

The Reluctant Geek - Incest, prostitution and dragons' eggs

As it turns out, moving house can be a bit of a faff. All of that putting things in boxes, and taking things out of boxes. It just isn’t fun, unless you’re using the boxes in some elaborate game of ‘Hide the shoe’. And no-one wants to play that with me after last time...

This somewhat off topic pre-amble readers, is partially my attempt to illicit your sympathy (‘Oh that poor Reluctant Geek! Bravely soldiering on with her column while chaos reigns around her!’) and partially because the other unfortunate thing about moving is that you find yourself temporarily lacking access to life’s essentials.

Several hours into actually hanging out at the new house I was practically rocking and twitching with the strain of internet withdrawal symptoms. How could I catch up with news as it happened? What if some crucial email was awaiting my attention? Even worse, what if someone had posted what they’d had for lunch on Facebook and I’d missed it? Clearly social death loomed. I had become the weird kid at school whose parents believe that hours of TV might not be the best thing for a developing mind, and who can’t therefore discuss the finer points of Neighbours versus Home and Away.

Of course, I still had the Blackberry, which went some way towards calming my addled mind. But no amount of shiny mobile technology could compensate for the sudden and alarming lack of access to a squillion or so TV channels. Regular readers will know that I’m not a ‘watch the Antiques roadshow just cos it’s on kind of girl’ but I do tend to devote myself to certain shows with all the passionate devotion of a novitiate nun. And there was one particular show that I was unreconcilled to missing.

I’ve raved about the Song of Ice and Fire series here before, so it may not surprise you to learn that I have been anticipating the Game of Thrones TV show with a fair amount of high pitched enthusiasm. And LARP/moving/work complications meant that in the end I was forced to throw myself upon the mercy of a friend, watching all of the first three episodes in some kind of orgiastic frenzy of fantasy TV appreciation.

And as it turns out, ‘orgiastic’ is a strangely apposite adjective, since one of Game of Thrones defining features is its ‘adult’ content. I was worried that they might have been tempted to go with the fantasy TV = kids TV precedent and just cut out vast swathes of the sex and violence. But then, there wouldn’t be much of a show left. So even if I was slightly alarmed by the fact that ‘boob count’ had made it into double figures by the end of episode one, I was vaguely relieved as well.

Naked ladies aside, did I like Game of Thrones? Do LARPers like plastic weapons?! The answer is yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

For starters, it’s gorgeous to look at. The Wall is awe inspiring, and the gritty Northern vistas of Winterfell strike perfect chords of melancholy beauty. The books are epic in scale, and the TV show is really managing to capture some of that dynastic immensity, particularly in the jumps from location to location, Winterfell to Kings Landing to the Free Cities.

More than this though, Game of Thrones also encapsulates that dichotomy of ‘real’ fantasy that the books handle so well. Yes there are dragons, and Dire wolves, but there are also petty squabbles, characters with their own unique insecurities, and the practical minutiae of life to be contended with. This immediacy is striking and compelling. The misery of Catelyn’s haggard bedside vigil, in a cold and cheerless room, as wolves howl at her door is difficult and thus brilliant, to watch.

It helps that for the most part the characterisation is spot on. Dwarf or not, Tyrion Lannister is so witty and clever that he may just count as my new ‘weird crush’ (I’m really sorry Noel Fielding). Cersei is brilliantly, languorously resentful, with a sense of entitlement that is practically palpable. And Daenerys has all of the regal vulnerability that you could hope for.

With any luck, Game of Thrones will turn out to be a bit of a landmark for television, proving that there really is a market for ‘grown up’ fantasy. I want to watch TV that transports me to a different world, without any patronizingly pesky moral message getting in the way of the story. The bottom line is, it doesn’t always have to be about talking lions and magic boxes. Sometimes it’s about incest, prostitution and dragons' eggs too.

This week, Kate is off to stay in a Mongolian Yurt for a few days. Just call me Genghis.

The Reluctant Geek - My fantasies

OK, I admit it, it’s a bit of a sensationalist heading this week. Whilst I probably could write a few hundred (plus) words on my fantasies, I suspect they wouldn’t be fit for mainstream publication. And it would certainly make my next speeding ticket just plain awkward...

Fantasy is one of those words that comes with a whole bunch of baggage attached, whether it’s finding out more than you wanted to about your friend’s latex fetish, or watching Harry Potter fanatics dressed as witches and wizards queueing around the block for the chance to get their hands on the latest book a fraction of a second before the rest of the world.

And ‘fantasy’ as a genre remains kind of problematic for the mainstream. There is a certain uncomfortable sense that it’s a bit of an extension of childhood games of dress up and make believe, and as such not really an acceptable interest for grown ups. Which is perhaps why books like the Harry Potter franchise come in handily bland bindings for the adult reader who’s just a little bit ashamed of their Hogwartian penchant. Although, let’s face it, there are far better reasons to be ashamed of reading the Harry Potter books than the fact that they’re for kids!

My take on fantasy literature used to be the popular one. I thought writing about dragons and castles and knights was for writers who weren’t clever enough to make ‘real’ life engaging. I cringe utterly at this attitude now, since in lots of ways it’s harder to take settings which are totally removed from every day experiences and still create characters and scenarios that your readers connect to.

The real turning point in my fantasy conversion was the discovery of a series of books called A Song of Ice and Fire. Before them I’d read very little fantasy besides a bit of Tolkien, but in my head that was serious (and at some points so dry I nearly caught on fire) literature so it didn’t really count. There are four volumes in the so far unfinished series and it’s fair to say I was captivated from the first chapter of the first book. Set in a medieval-esque world where dynastic and personal interests play out against a back drop of pacey, take no prisoners brutality, I devoured them relentlessly. Seriously, my copy of A Game of Thrones has bite marks on it. It was the first time that I’d read fantasy that was truly relatable, despite its remote setting, with characters motivated by love and sex and power and greed just like the rest of us.

I knew I was truly hooked when I reached the fourth book in the series and discovered that the rest were as yet unwritten. All of a sudden I was one of those fans willing to shiveringly queue at five O'clock in the morning outside some anonymous bookstore. I scoured the web for news of forthcoming books and exclaimed delightedly when I discovered the board games and the novellas and the forthcoming TV adaptation. Unfortunately, George R. R. Martin is notorious for his literary reticence and unwillingness to be rushed and I found myself united with the rest of his Fire and Ice addicts in a scream of, "Just hurry up and write the rest of the damn thing! (Please Mr Martin sir.)"

Luckily it would be appear that Mr Martin is listening to this swell of frenzied reader anticipation since yesterday, finally, he announced a publication date for the next installment. I’m brushing off my sleeping bag and deciding whether to dress up as Daenarys or Arya as we speak.

Ultimately, I guess these days I believe that a bit of fantasy is good for the soul. Fantasy is imagination, transportation and travel to places beyond the wildest dreams of your average travel brochure. I’ve talked about the all too human search for meaning before and sometimes you have to look in some pretty unlikely places to find it, whether that’s the legendary halls of Camelot, the slopes of Mount Doom, or the furthest Northern reaches of Westeros. So maybe this blog has been about my fantasies after all...

This week, Kate Townshend knows they swapped the sangria!