HBO'S
Game of Thrones
To talk about Game of Thrones, we must first talk about HBO. As mentioned previously, HBO is not only the poster child of post-network television, but the epitome of what TV has become. It redefined what TV is and how it is consumed. With the implementation of VCR and pay-per-view which created competition for HBO and prevented them from premiering their catalogue of films, HBO was forced to reinvent themselves to survive. The key: branding. They were the first to ground its programming in connotations of high art, denying its relations to the degraded image of television through its slogan: “It’s not TV, it’s HBO.” They had a number of advantages over the networks, which I discussed on the home page. Briefly, these include more money per episode, the ability to target niche audiences, and more freedom from ratings and advertising pressures. They focused on original programming to drive home their brand of quality, boutique programming defined by novelty, refinement, and privilege. They drew in the best talent with promises of creative freedom and utilized their higher degree of economic freedom to produce high-caliber programming. Their goal was to use quality to draw in “quality” audiences (those attractive to advertisers): the educated, affluent, young viewers with disposable income. Branding their shows as cinema differentiated their product.
Game of Thrones is archetypal of this concept of “quality TV”. Its aesthetic style and production values are rooted in cinema, while its narrative complexity is evocative of its literary roots. It emphasizes character development, structural and narrative complexity, psychological realism, reflexivity, aesthetic innovation, and edgy themes. The characters grow and evolve as the show progresses. They learn life lessons, such as when Jon eventually loses the entitlement that holds him back and becomes a fit leader. It is ultimately a story of individuals; complex ones living in a complex, ugly world. Also typical of post-network era shows, the plot is the framework for this character development. Unlike conventional narratives, the interweaving and ever-changing relationships are the most important part of the story, while plot promotes and enhances these relations. Game of Thrones also typifies the post network-era incorporation of the family melodrama, extending the family unit outwards. The characters make up big family-like groups organized by kingdoms. Overlapping storylines and long narrative arcs create the complexity synonymous with quality in this era. This narrative complexity was made possible by the increasing seriality of the post-network era, discussed earlier. I had trouble following the intricate relations for the first few episodes.
​
The show relies on this genre bending and blending. Departing sharply from network era shows that relied on wide appeal, Game of Thrones was adapted from a series of novels with a small but devoted fan base. HBO could target such a specific niche, but they utilized other practices to appeal to their desired “quality” audience. This was a challenge, as the fantasy genre has been perceived as immature low art. The show’s genre predecessors such as Star Wars, The Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter do not feature eroticism, but have associations with role-playing, flat characters, fantastical creatures, and chivalric love. In Game of Thrones, they brought together aesthetics from more critically acclaimed arts with familiar television models to achieve this goal of “better” audiences, though they also gained some status through association with literature, a traditionally higher art. They took the pseudo-medieval fantasy subgenre, often seen as childish, and brought in adult themes. HBO’s televisuality is marked by profanity and uncensored depictions of violence, nudity, and sex. I was taken aback by scenes of brutal mass murder and rape in the first few episodes I watched, but this is fundamental to HBO’s carefully developed brand that defines itself as the antithesis to broadcast TV through its rejection of conservativeness. This is predicated on the classist assumption that premium channel viewers can handle and appreciate this graphicness. Its grittiness is conflated with honesty and authenticity, part of their brand. Controversy is at the heart of their plan to differentiate from the “norm” and push against the limits of broadcast television. They prove their distinction by taking risks.
Further abandoning narrative conventions, they also discarded the good vs. evil trope in favor of the moral ambiguity typical of post-network era TV. The characters often exist in moral gray areas, breaking down the good guy/bad guy binary. The archetypal medieval hero is also explored and redefined. Chivalry no longer has its place in success, as John Arryn, Robert Baratheon, and Ned Stark die. Good does not always triumph, is the message, and the hero is not the one expected. Some characters have the inward characteristics of a hero, but not the status, lineage, or appearance. Others are the opposite. Arya Stark exemplifies this, as she possesses the bravery and fighting skills of a hero, but cannot fill the role as a girl.
​
Though modifying the genre, HBO left aspects of fantasy to keep the niche appeal. This genre has historically lent itself to social commentary, and this show is no different. Many topical social and political issues are alluded to, such as climate change through the characters’ constant fear that “winter is coming”, and their leadership’s unwillingness to act quickly; and the looming significance of “The Wall”. Another example of its homage to the genre is the world map from the opener. It serves as a geographical reference for the complex story and character dynamics. This is also indicative of the conventional heritage that the show rests on. It creates a dichotomy between the civilized “us”, and the barbaric “other”. I was struck by the candid binary expressed between the Western protagonists and the Eastern and Southern foreign characters. As viewers, we see through the eurocentric perspective of Daenerys as she encounters cultures more primitive and dangerous. Even the skin of the “other” is darker, and the “Common Tongue” is English. I was disappointed, but not surprised to see how much of the show promotes a white, heterosexual male perspective, also exemplified through the presence of female-only nudity. Though I am aware this is a perspective usually employed by the genre and television shows alike, I had hoped the post-network era content claims of socially centered themes would combat this with more than a few “empowered” female characters. I was troubled by the sexualization (and mere inclusion) of Sansa’s rape scene and especially horrified by the episodes that follow in which her rapist is forgiven and humanized. I found countless issues with just this part in particular, beginning with the fact that the rapist was a darker-skinned, backwards, “other”. But I digress...
​
To further amass high-art connotations, Game of Thrones’ marketing centered the writer George R.R. Martin and executive producers David Benioff and Daniel B. Weiss. Through this, they advertised the show as auteur and rooted in literature, emblematic of the higher arts.
Like I discussed with AMC’s The Walking Dead, while Game of Thrones operates under the logic of publishing in that it is uniquely positioned and very niche, its international success converts its reception into somewhat of a cultural forum. Fan clubs, blogs, social media sites, and websites are literal forums where people comment on, criticize, and predict the show. Its live recap show, After the Thrones, highlights its focus on the collective live audience and cultural forum. Even those who have not seen the show can recognize its name or its premise, and though this was the first time I had seen the show myself, I knew about the infamous “Red Wedding” scene. Its viewership is so widespread that it has the potential for cultural influence and significance that is not expected in the publishing model. But simultaneously, the show is not only followed week by week during its air time, but also through streaming on HBO Go. This gives viewers control over their viewing habits and promotes the “pay to buy/rent” and individual experience model of publishing.
​
I think Game of Thrones’ legacy will go down in history as one of the most important shows of our generation. Along with The Walking Dead, it feels symbolic of the return to the cultural forum I discussed earlier, as well as both being adaptations of literature which I expect to see more of in the future. It has effectively mainstreamed the fantasy genre and modernized it through things such as the inclusion of female protagonists, and will likely lead to a horde of copycats. One aspect of its storytelling that I have not seen before is its tendency to kill of main characters just for the plot twist and shift hero vs. villain dynamics. I expect to see more of this extreme unpredictability and moral ambiguity in future programming. Because of choices like these, to me, the show has been able to push boundaries more than the norm. I think this program and HBO has changed what we expect to see on TV. High production values, unpredictability, shock value, and political themes are almost anticipated.