Game of Thrones S4 E37: Mockingbird, or Brothers and Sisters Will Raise a Few Blisters

Our new episode of Game of Thrones begins with Jaime and Tyrion recapping the last scene of the last ep. They agree that things could have gone better, but at least they screwed Tywin over. Tyrion’s leaning towards self pity, and the jokes are getting meaner and less funny. At least he’s aware of it.

And he should have been aware that Jaime still can’t fight for shit with his left hand. Well there’s still Bronn. Who’s he fighting, anyway?

Ah. That would be the Hound’s asshole older brother, the Mountain. Who is doing some sort of Crossfit challenge that involves lifting dudes over his head with a sword. The Mountain looks to be left-handed, oddly enough. That takes care of any advantage Jaime would have had fighting southpaw…

Cersei’s got such a mean-on to see Tyrion dead that she doesn’t mind tip-toeing through the entrails to give a proper greeting to her champion. Classy.

And we get a bit of True Detective existential dialogue with Arya, the Hound, and some poor bastard dying of a gut wound. Arya gets to play Rust. The Hound gives succor in the form of water and a clean death, and is promptly jumped on and bitten by… Biter. Not the most developed character, that guy, and now he’s dead.

And Arya gets to add Rorge to her kill list and immediately cross him off with a sweet quick draw. Thanks for the news about Joff, by the way, though it doesn’t seem to make an impression.

Not exactly a hero’s welcome home for Jon Snow. Mind you, you aren’t supposed to come home from a suicide mission. Management is pissed, and wastes no time in ignoring every bit of intel the ranging party brought back and dressing down Jon in front of everyone at the weekly staff meeting.

(Is it my imagination, or is the dude on Ser Alliser’s left at the table Johnny 50 from The Wire? Must check.)

Back at Tyrion’s foul bachelor pad, Bronn has finally deigned to appear, and has brought some fancy gloves and bad news. Bronn has always been a cold-eyed realist, and never more so than now. He leaves Tyrion in a pool of dusty sunlight and self-pity, alone and out of options.

And Dany isn’t doing nude scenes anymore, or such is the rumor. So she bangs Second Daario off-camera, and we must content ourselves with a candlelit eyeful of his muscular buttocks.

We do get an entirely gratuitous bathtub scene with Red Mel, in which we learn that Mel’s jokes are a bit flat lately, and that she’s got a stash of nasty trick powders. And she has something in store for sweet little Shireen, which can’t possibly be good.

Ser Jorah, to his credit, is able to see past the blue flames of his jealousy over Dany + Daario and hand out a bunch of reasonable council. It leads to Dany appointing the son of a man she recently crucified as her mouthpiece in Yunkai, which I don’t see ending well. But it’s good to see Dany extending her repertoire past Kill All the Fuckers.

The Hound and Arya share a vulnerable moment, and that ends with Arya stitching up a truly revolting bite wound. The Hound is a dead man, unless the next guy they rob has a load of antibiotics on him.

Back on the King’s Road, Brienne and Pod have stopped at a diner, and Hot Pie is there to justify his having had a speaking part last year. So, in the most gamer logic development yet, B&P get all the intel they need at the first place they stop, and are off to the Overlook. What they will do when faced with the murderous hill-folk, the army of the vale, and Scratchy the Poisoning Pimp I can scarcely imagine.

Meanwhile, Tyrion is sitting in the dark looking like he’s trying to will himself to die. And here’s Prince O, with a lengthy story about Cersei and Jaime that has the shocking effect of making Tyrion feel worse. He makes up for it by pledging himself as Tyrion’s champion, since it’s a free pass to murder the Mountain. Tyrion doesn’t quite sob with relief, but it’s a near thing.

And up at the Overlook, Sansa builds a snow Winterfell from memory, and her demented titty-baby cousin/fiancee fucks it up and pisses her off to the point of handing him a prim little bitchslap. Sadly, as proved by Joff, you can’t bitchslap a crazy kid sane. (And oooh boy, Robin really is just a stupider veal-calf version of Joff.)

This creates a stirring in the heart of Scratchy the Pimp, who lays down some sweet talk on Sansa and in a rare moment of honesty admits to killing Joff not just for the money or the chaotic thrill of it, but as revenge for Cat. (And there, pinned to his throat, is the silver mockingbird of this ep’s title; you’re very welcome.)

And then he goes for the clinch. Who saw that coming.

Batshit crazy Aunt Lysa and her creepy boundary issues just happened to be spying at just the right moment, which leads us to the Moon Door and Lysa screaming for the whole valley to hear about the murders she’s committed while she shoves Sansa’s head down all Siffredi.

Luckily it’s Scratchy to the rescue, lying at will until he’s got Lysa’s heels at the edge of the Moon Door. Have we seen him kill before, with his own hands? I think not. That was personal. That was a long time coming.
Next ep is in two weeks. Bastards. I want to see Scratchy talk his way out of this almost as much as I want to see Prince O take on the Mountain (by strategy).


Posted by on May 18, 2014. Filed under Headline, Popcorn. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry

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