"You Are My Queen, Nothing Will Change That. And They Are My Family. We Can Live Together..."
Yep, that's right, get over it. No matter how many times I read a somewhat negative perspective on last week's spectacular ninety minute battle, the fact still remains that now winter has come and gone, such a resolution was always going to satisfy particular viewers whilst actively enraging the rest who wanted this theory to come true to and this person to do that, and whilst Game of Thrones Season Eight undeniably seems to be suffering from The Last Jedi syndrome of not giving in to the wishes of the disillusioned hardcore who are determined to see their beloved show end exactly the way they want, the closer we get to the final endgame of the narrative, the more I am actively enjoying it. Beginning with a fiery farewell to the fallen, the mourning survivors are given absolutely no time to rest, or in one of the more infamous goofs of the show so far, enjoy a tasty Starbucks (registered trademark) and whilst the wine, the jokes and the erm, unexpected romance and marriage proposals threatened to push the show into soap territory, "The Last of the Starks" managed to jumble together some of the most interesting and tense-lade set pieces of the series so far. With the show in its' early years criss-crossing a dramatic blend of The West Wing meets Lord of the Rings, the fourth chapter in this divisive concluding season actively felt more "classic" Game of Thrones, utilising genuine surprises and interesting developments to make an eighty minute runtime once again absolutely fly by.
Of the more interesting narrative threads, the war is over but another one has just begun, and whilst it seemed for a time that the Northerners and the Dragon Queen would indeed be successful at playing some low-key form of happy families, her precious dragons and depleted armies seemed to mean absolutely sod all to the ever-annoying Sansa, who in her power playing game of frowning her way through the remaining episodes seemed to either have missed out on her daily dose of antidepressants or has been directed to come across as the most unlikeable Stark ever to have lived. With Jon's heritage exposed quicker than a celebrity nude in the Twitter generation, what an absolutely dire mistake it seemed to be to make even one person aware of his true bloodline, with not only the whole of the North seemingly made aware within the space of one episode, but Tyrion and Varys too, with the latter once again chopping and changing allegiances quicker than Littlefinger in the hope that after all this time, Jon may actually be a more efficient ruler. Speaking of chopping, alongside the return of the cocky, murderous Bronn which brought the episodes most interesting set piece, let us all take a minute and wave a fond farewell to Nathalie Emmanuel, whose understated and charming performance as Missandei ended in proper Game of Thrones fashion with a battle-ready final line and of course, one less head, and whilst the show has lost one of the more innocent and harmless central characters, her death signifies a turn in the tide with there now no room for bartering, no cares for surrenders and as we all pretty much expected, war, lots of war.
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