Direwolves in the Woods: Thoughts on the Series Premiere of HBO's Game of Thrones

Winter is coming, as we're told several times throughout the first episode of HBO's lavish and gripping new series, Game of Thrones, based on the George R.R. Martin novel series "A Song of Ice and Fire." It's a belief that the halcyon days of summer will soon be behind us, that the icy grip of winter--true winter--will soon wrap its fingers around our throats. Those happy days are behind us.

In the series premiere of Game of Thrones ("Winter is Coming"), written by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss and directed by Tim Van Patten, the signs and omens are gathering around us. A direwolf has been slain by a stag, in turn killed by the great wolf itself, her children spilling from her bellies as orphans. In a world that moving forward away from superstitions, it's a tableau that should give even the deepest cynics of Westeros pause for thought. Change is coming to Winterfell and, by the time the closing credits of this first episode roll, the Starks have been changed forever.

You had the chance to read my advance review of the first six episodes of Game of Thrones a few weeks back but, now that the first episode has aired, we can discuss the series opener in depth. So put on your fur-lined cloak, sharpen your broadsword, get a good grip, and prepare to discuss "Winter is Coming."

The question I get asked more than any other about Game of Thrones is how this pilot episode compared to the original pilot, directed by Tom MCarthy (who has a consulting producer credit on the reshot first episode). Answer: night and day. While some of the original footage does make it into the redone pilot (Bran climbing the walls of Winterfell when he spots the king's retinue; Ned and Robert in the crypts), the overall effect is entirely different.

(Aside for the fans of the books: While this version captures the scope and scale of Westeros and the production, the original felt more insular, slightly more claustrophobic and narrow. Here, there's a sense of space and movement: the walls of Winterfell contrasting with the openness of the sea at Pentos, the brutal North at odds with the luxuriousness of Illyrio's mansion across the Narrow Sea. The opening sequence and Dany's wedding night are handled differently here than in the original pilot. The recastings are all fantastic in my opinion, though I do mourn the loss of the corpulence of Illyrio, originally played by the great Ian McNiece. Roger Allum, taking over for him, is fabulous, but lacks the physicality for the role. It is, however, a mere quibble amid a production that is as studied and accomplished as this one.)

This is grand fantasy, writ large. Seemingly no expense has been spared and bringing the world of Westeros to life, but writers Benioff and Weiss and director Van Patten also know that they can't coast by on grandeur and beauty shots alone. The characters as we meet them here are vivid and compelling, even though there are a lot of them. There's a fair amount of exposition to get through in any series opener and the first episode of Game of Thrones is no exception. We very luckily have the Stark children to fill in some of the blanks when King Robert's retinue arrives at Winterfell, allowing the audience some semblance of a toehold when it comes to keeping track of the Lannisters and who they are: haughty Cersei, arrogant Jaime, and vivacious Tyrion. (Tyrion should already been a favorite of the audience. While his accent is shaky at times, Peter Dinklage brings this remarkable and nuanced character to life brilliantly. If he's not already a favorite, he soon will be.)

But this is an episode that's largely full of set up for the plots to come, as Ned is offered the position of Hand to the King to his childhood friend Robert; Catelyn learns that her sister Lysa believes the last Hand, her husband Jon Arryn, to have been murdered by the Lannisters; Dany is wed to Dothraki warlord Khal Drogo; and little Bran is pushed out of a window after learning of the secret of the Lannister siblings: Cersei and Jaime are not just twins, but lovers as well. There's a lot of information to process, but I think the writers do a superb job at keeping the pacing moving, even as we're introduced to a myriad of plots and characters, meeting the major players from House Stark, House Baratheon, House Lannister, and House Targaryen. There's a lot to keep straight here, but it's also not being spoon-fed to the audience; it's refreshing in this day and age to see a production that doesn't denigrate the intelligence of the audience but instead plays up to it.

There's an aura of dread and of transformation at play here, as the King arrives in Winterfell and alters the fabric of the Starks' lives. Will Ned accept and move his family south? Will Cersei and Jaime's need for secrecy cause the death of wee Bran Stark? Will Catelyn heed her sister's warning? The game of thrones is just beginning once more and the players are already getting into position. Even as the court intrigues reach Winterfell, across the Narrow Sea, the two remaining members of the old dynasty, the Targaryen clan, are making preparations to reclaim their throne from the Usurper, Robert Baratheon.

Viserys sells his sister Daenerys to the Dothraki, making her a queen--or khalessi--in exchange for a Dothraki horde to reclaim his crown. A pawn in the quest for kingly conquering, Dany is a girl thrust into womanhood, a bride forcefully taken, a gift of beauty in exchange for warriors. Her innocence is in deep contrast to Viserys' brutality; his line about letting all of Drogo's warriors and their horses having her if it meant him getting what he wants was shocking and terrifying. Pale-haired siblings with nothing to lose and everything to gain, exiled royalty desperate to return home, wherever that might be.

Adaptation is always difficult and when you have a book as deep and dense as Martin's "A Game of Thrones" to work with, there are always going to be things that don't make it into the picture, due in part to the internal nature of Martin's work. By having a different character narrate each chapter, we're given the chance to view this story from the vantage point of third-person omniscient narration, allowing the reader to learn the backstory, the inner-most thoughts and desires of the character in question. Television is a vastly different medium and that's not an option for the writer here. (Trust me: we don't want to see voiceover.)

Which means that certain elements are going to be left off of the page and the screen, as it were. Characters will have to be composited or eliminated altogether, and plots may have to be rejiggered. Still, with the series opener, Benioff and Weiss deliver a staggeringly faithful adaptation of Martin's novel, and if the cliffhanger ending ("The things I do for love") wasn't enough to pique your interest, I don't know what is. What follows over the course of the next few episodes is gripping stuff: human-level fantasy that skimps on sorcery for magic of a different kind: making you care for a world that's vastly different to our own, yet in some ways hauntingly similar and to feel a sense of kinship to characters who are as humbly flawed as you or I. This is humanistic fantasy, a world of moral greys and hard choices.

That said, the only real complaint I had with the first episode was the fact that I didn't think the emotional rapport between the Stark children and the direwolves was sufficiently developed. We get the sense that they're cuddly and cute and Bran's direwolf, Summer, moans nervously as his master climbs the wall, but I wanted to see more of an actual rapport between child and animal. To go back to the tableau established at the beginning of this post, these Starks were meant to have these creatures by their sides, as Jon Snow suggests. Which supposes some sort of divine intervention or fate. If that's true, I wanted to feel that there was an unbreakable bond between Stark and wolf, but our exposure to the animals is limited to the scene in the woods and two shots of Bran's wolf, now older. Without giving anything away, I will say that the direwolves are key to the plot and the overall narrative and the lack of rapport here was the one thing that I felt was lacking from an otherwise stellar series opener.

Still, it's a minor complaint amid a production that virtually did everything else right. The tension established by the prologue, occurring on the other side of the vast Wall, creates a ribbon of unease unfurling just underneath the surface. What does it mean for Winterfell and the world? What happened in those woods? What are the white walkers and why does it frighten Will so much that he deserts his post as one of the Night's Watch? Was he mad or is a terrifying omen of something far worse to come? For now, it's far from the goings-on at Winterfell, where matters both politic and personal rule supreme. But there's the sense that the walls as they were are closing in from all directions: something evil stalks the woods while across the sea an old enemy threatens the peace of the Seven Kingdoms once more. That is, if they're not destroyed from within first...

Now that the wait is over and the first episode has aired, I'm curious to know what you thought of the series opener. Did it grab your attention? Were you confused by the panoply of characters or the separate narratives? Were you shocked by the ending of the episode as Bran was pushed from the tower? And, most importantly, will you tune in again next week?

Next week on Game of Thrones ("The Kingsroad"), Branʼs fate remains in doubt; Ned leaves the north with daughters Sansa and Arya, while Catelyn stays behind to tend to Bran; Jon Snow heads north to join the brotherhood of the Nightʼs Watch; Tyrion decides to forego the trip south with his family, instead joining Jon in the entourage heading to the Wall; Viserys bides his time in hopes of winning back the throne, while Daenerys attempts to learn how to please her new husband, Drogo.

Ep. 2: The Kingsroad - Preview

End of the Line: A Soundless Echo on The Killing

"You said she didn't suffer."

Rule Number One among homicide detectives: don't make promises you can't keep. Sarah Linden knows this, which is why she doesn't offer the Larsens the false hope that they'll catch whoever slayed their beloved teenage daughter Rosie. (In fact, it's Holder who makes that promise.) But Linden's seemingly innocuous white lie--telling Mitch and Stan that Rosie didn't suffer--was itself intended to assuage the consciences of the grieving parents. When they come face to face with proof to the opposite, it's as much a shock to the system, a jolt of brutal realization, as the news that their daughter was dead.

In this week's episode of The Killing ("A Soundless Echo"), written by Soo Hugh and directed by Jennifer Getzinger, Mitch and Stan grapple with funeral arrangements for Rosie--the minutiae of grief and loss--as the investigators make some shocking new discoveries about Rosie's secret life and that video they discovered, and the Richmond campaign strives to stay in the mayoral race.

The concentric circles of the narrative of The Killing are keenly felt here: the political, the personal, the inner lives of people we think we know. So many secrets swirl around these characters just four episodes into the series' run: Just what did happen to Darren's wife? Who was the "dead girl" that Sarah Linden chased after last time? What is Sterling so afraid of? And over it all hovers the spirit of Rosie Larsen, the hungry ghost whose presence is itself a soundless echo of a life lived.

First things first: the video. It turns out that it wasn't Rosie we were seeing with Jasper and Kris, but her supposed BFF Sterling, who went down to The Cage with Rosie's ex-boyfriend and his friend during the Halloween dance wearing Rosie's witch's costume--which explains the pink wig covered in blood, those bloody handprints (thanks to Sterling's chronic nosebleeds), and the witch's hat down there, but the girl in the homemade video isn't Rosie. Which means that conjectures about how Rosie got from there to the lake are all incorrect: Rosie was never there...

I loved the scene in which Linden and Holder silently fix Kris in their shared gaze, offering not threats or encouragement, just the righteous anger of the silent. Playing a video of Rosie before her death--a Rosie that's full of life and promise for the future--they force him to tell the dead girl that he didn't kill her. But, given what we learn from Jasper, it seems like these two could be out of the frame altogether now. Rosie left the school dance and Sterling headed to the basement with Kris and Jasper. So where did Rosie go?

There's the mystery of the 108 bus, which Holder learns is Rosie's public transit option of choice. And we learn what lies at the end of the line for Rosie: a rendezvous spot with her teacher, Bennet, with whom Rosie appears to have been having a romantic relationship with. But hold that thought for one second...

First, the discovery of just what was at the end of the line is interesting for several reasons. While it gives the police a connection between Rosie and Bennet--the two were spotted together there on multiple occasions--there's another connection being forged here. The basketball program is one of Darren Richmond's anti-gang intitiatives and the presence of those Darren Richmond for Mayor posters in the locker room serve a bigger purpose: they establish a connection between Rosie Larsen and the Richmond campaign. However insubstantial it might seem, however flimsy and paper-thin, it's the first sign that Rosie and Darren may have moved in a similar circle, or that his campaign aides may have crossed paths with the dead girl.

And then there's Bennet. As soon as he sat down with Mitch in the hallway, I knew that his relationship with Rosie was more than just professional. Hell, even Holder suspects this in the pilot episode, implying that Bennet may have been attracted to Rosie. But before our imaginations run wild, let's explore the fact that Bennet and Rosie didn't have a sexual relationship. Sure, it seems as though the writers want to point us towards the possibility that they did, but that's what makes me leery.

Yes, Rosie "wanted the world," and Linden discovers Bennet's letters to Rosie concealed in her globe, letters that mention Rosie being "an old soul" wise beyond her years. While this seems pretty incriminating, it doesn't mean that their relationship was sexual. The fact that Bennet is so gentle with Mitch, so willing to share with her about her daughter's gift for learning, makes me believe that he wasn't sexually involved with her, as he'd be more likely to distance himself from her family than become entangled with her grieving mother. He makes a gift of Rosie's favorite novel (oddly not named here), discussing the "soundless echo" mentioned within. Was he in love with her? Were they just friends? What was she doing in such a rough neighborhood? And was that where she went the night of her death?

This week, we also caught a glimpse into the hidden lives of the Larsens, learning some key details about the behaviors and actions before Rosie's death. While Mitch is still in a deep state of shock, an emotionally numb zombie staggering through the day, it's Stan who seems to be reacting to the loss in interesting ways. We learn that he had purchased a house for his family before Rosie died but he'll have to sell it now amid everything that's happened. While Stan has seemed a more or less "good guy," there's darkness in him and clues to a past that may not have been as tranquil as he would have us believe.

Just what did Belko mean about taking care of Darren Richmond? And what was Stan's role in, uh, taking care of things for local mobster Janek he meets up with after many years of estrangement? What did "old times" involve exactly? Could it be that Stan was a mob enforcer? And what if Rosie's murder is in fact payback for something he did in his "past life"? Hmmm... Stan, meanwhile, does take the cash that's offered to him by Janek, placing it in a ledger in his office desk. Interesting that he doesn't put it in the bank or pay off some of his bills. So what does he want with the cash exactly?

Mitch, meanwhile, asks some tough questions of the priest who is overseeing Rosie's funeral arrangements. Where was God when Rosie's lungs were filling with water, as she tried to claw her way out of that trunk? The cold comfort offered here is just that, and Mitch can't stomach the sanctimonious religious treacle that's being offered here perfunctorally. Why isn't Rosie with HER, after all? What sort of deity can do such a thing to a mother? She looks at Christ on the cross and sees her daughter reflected back at her, the bound wrists, the bloody eyes, echoed back from the crucifix.

Her quest for answers leads her to Rosie's school, where she experiences a true moment of communion with Sterling, a beautiful scene that radiated loss, connection, and love. And then leads her on a collision course with Bennet, as described above. The questions that Mitch has knocking about inside of her require some form of answer. The questions the cops keep asking--do you recognize this key? what about these shoes? was Rosie seeing an adult?--need context. The moment she spends with Bennet connect her to a Rosie who isn't dead, but who had her whole life ahead of her. A girl who thought about books and not coffins, who dreamed of the future and not of burial.

Rosie's death has kicked everything out of orbit, from the Larsens' life to the political aspirations of Darren Richmond. This week, Gwen sought assistance from her father, Senator Eaton (played, of course, by Alan Dale), urging him to arrange a meeting between Darren and local hotshot Drexler, whose antics are lapped up by Seattle's well-heeled set but who seems like little more than an unlikable kid who struck it rich and uses his money to lord it over everyone around him. While Darren doesn't want to cut any deals with Drexler, he reluctantly takes a $50,000 check from him, using it to pay for a new billboard and cover other campaign costs. (He's unaware that it was Gwen that made the meet possible, even as she's chided by her father for sleeping with her candidate.)

It certainly seems as though Gwen is on the up-and-up, but then again so is Jamie, who we learn is secretly working for Darren. In a very Damages-like twist, Jamie is spying on Lesley Adams for Darren, ingratiating himself to the incumbent and hoping to learn who in the Richmond campaign is the saboteur. After all, as Darren and Jamie both acknowledge, if Jamie wanted to screw over Darren, he would have been smarter about it. Which begs the question: if it's not Jamie, just who is leaking information? Hmmm... (And I'm chuffed that it means Jamie is sticking around, as his deviousness and ambition make for good character qualities in a political thriller.)

And then there's Sarah Linden herself. She blows off trying out wedding cake samples with Rick for examining Rosie's room one last time. Is she getting too close to this case? Is she stuck in a repeating pattern once more? She's drawn to that drawing from the pilot episode again, its eerie sketch of trees, the silent scene less pleasant and more disturbing, another soundless echo of another dead girl...

Next week on The Killing ("Super 8"), Richmond and his team plan an anti-crime commercial; Stan turns to a work colleague for help in finding Rosie's killer.

Of Lions and Lambs: Thoughts on the Season Premiere of Friday Night Lights

"I'm going to miss this." - Eric Taylor

Those words, spoken by Kyle Chandler's Eric Taylor in the season premiere of Friday Night Lights ("Expectations"), written by David Hudgins and directed by Michael Waxman, are said as he looks over at the minor squabble developing between wife Tami (Connie Britton) and daughter Julie (Aimee Teegarden). But that simple sentence, offered in a sweet and rather sad tone, might as well encapsulate the overall feeling of the audience: we're going to miss this too.

Even though the "this" in question might be yet flare-up of adolescence angst from Julie Taylor. But it's the fact that the Taylors are together, engaged in the regular rigors of daily life, that the entire declarative statement takes on bigger meaning. Change is coming for the Taylors, with Julie heading off the school. Their family is once again being split up and those breakfasts, those arguments, those stolen moments are soon to be a thing of the past.

The arrival of the fifth season marks the beginning of the end, as it were, of Friday Night Lights and the installment plays up this sensation by offering a series of farewells, most notably from Julie and Landry (Jesse Plemons), each heading off to a new life at university. At its heart, Friday Night Lights has echoed the rhythms and patterns of quotidian life: seasons pass, people come and go, lovers come together. Life goes on as it always does, with friends returning, children growing older, parents realizing just how quickly time has passed.

I'm tempted to speed through this final season but I also want to savor it, knowing that it's the very end of our stay in Dillon, a town that's largely changed from when we first encountered it in the pilot episode. But, hold on though we might want to, just like Eric, we too can't stop the passing of time.

Continue reading...

Fairy Tale Beginnings: Considering Couples and Consequences on Parks and Recreation

Kudos to the writers of Parks and Recreation for pulling off what will go down as one of the all-time best episodes of the NBC comedy series, one that threw off the audience's preconceptions of comedy narratives and shattered our expectations about how romantic comedy couples are meant to be handled.

In this week's hilarious and emotionally resonant episode ("Fancy Party"), written by Katie Dippold and directed by Michael Trim, newly dating couple April and Andy got married. It wasn't a Very Special Episode. It wasn't preceded by NBC hitting us over the head with promos for a wedding site for April and Andy or forcing us to watch them shop for rings or make wedding plans, the writing team instead pulled the rug out from underneath the audience, transforming an episode about the unlikely couple hosting a dinner party into an impromptu wedding episode.

It was unexpected and magical, not least because the wool was pulled over the characters' eyes as well as our own. The sudden revelation that the "fancy party" that the gang at the Department of Parks and Recreation was attending was in fact a wedding for a couple who had only been dating for a month--the TV equivalent of a micro-second--was a stunning revelation in the face of the protracted and painful courtship of Jim and Pam over on The Office.

In one fell swoop, our expectations about April and Andy were punctured amid a ceremony that was not only organic in terms of their relationship and the show's unsentimental look at modern love, but also was entirely fitting for these characters at this point in the show's run.

Parks and Rec executive producers Greg Daniels and Mike Schur have seemingly relished the opportunity to shake things up in terms of the relationship department for the show's panoply of lovably odd characters. They split up Ann and Andy, thwarted our expectations that the romantic leads were Leslie and Mark by throwing Ann and Mark into a romance, and then just as surprisingly broke them up at the end of Season Two. Ann and Chris danced their dance and went their separate ways this season while Leslie and Ben are still tiptoeing around their own potential romance. All of which establishes Parks and Recreation as a show that's willing to take risks with the romantic trajectories of its characters.

None more so, perhaps, than this week's wedding. I couldn't help but wonder--all the way up to the point in which the justice of the peace declared them man and wife--whether this was in fact a complicated and provocative joke employed by Andy and April on their guests. Was it a ruse or an actual wedding? Were they about to be married or was it in fact a provocative gag on the institution of marriage?

This sense of unease and a cynical distrust of the reality unfolding here was assisted by the cold open in which Ron Swanson seemingly yanked out one of his own teeth during a department meeting. Shocking and unexpected, it was a gag of the highest order, an effort by Ron to pull one over on his gullible colleagues, a prank that pushed the boundaries of polite behavior and terrifying excess. (Ron, of course, had had the tooth removed by a dentist the day before.)

That aura of suspicion carried over into the wedding sequence, though the writers defied my own preconceptions by actually going through with the marriage of April and Andy, creating an emotional truth to the impulsive action that cemented their love and remained true to their wacky sense of adventure and selves. April Dwyer (nee Ludgate) is so seldom in touch with her emotions, so typically jaded and aloof, that when she does manifest some semblance of genuine feeling, one can't help but be swept up by it. Her tears at her sister's sullen speech may have been real, but it was the honest way she told Leslie that she loved her that tugged on my heartstrings.

While the characters may be splitting off and coupling, what remains at the show's core is the easiness and bond of friendship that exists between the characters. Leslie's efforts to try and call off the wedding were motivated by love for both April and Andy and an attempt to see that they not make a huge mistake they regretted later, putting their marriage before actually dating, or getting to know one another, or finding a place to live. ("We'll get a condo!") But her support of the couple is also a testament to her love for them as well, and it's felt in that brief but powerful scene between Leslie and April. ("You're awesome... I love you.")

Despite the fact that we're raised on fairy tales in which the wedding is the happy ending rather than the beginning, here the audience is forced to admit that the wedding is just the first step in a long road ahead for April and Andy, the beginning of something rather than the end. In romantic comedies, this is almost unheard of, particularly in televised one, where the tension between the two lovers needs to be sustained at all costs and where marriage often removes some of the shine rather than intensifies it.

April and Andy's relationship has only just begun and they've, fittingly for them, done things completely out of order. They haven't lived together, haven't really fought and broken up (not since they officially started dating), haven't even really gotten to know each other, but their marriage kicks everything into a higher gear. Where will they live? Will they get along? Will they squabble? What does this mean? All good questions as the writers subvert our preconceived notions of how a television couple is supposed to proceed in their courtship.

Which makes "Fancy Party" quite a groundbreaking episode, fusing together humor and genuine emotion into twenty-odd minutes of television bliss. I'm touched, stunned, incredulous, and surprised. But, most of all, I'm in awe.

Next week on Parks and Recreation ("Soulmates"), an online dating service matches Leslie with someone she already knows; Chris challenges Ron to a burger cook-off as part of a new health initiative.

Tune-in Reminder: Game of Thrones Starts on Sunday!

Looking for all of our coverage of HBO's Game of Thrones in one place? Look no further.

At The Daily Beast's Newsmaker page for Game of Thrones, you find all of our collected coverage of Game of Thrones, including: Game of Thrones for Dummies, my in-depth glossary and character gallery for the uninitiated; George R.R. Martin's two Curator features, in which he picks Top 10 Fantasy Films and Top 10 Science Fiction Films; my initial preview feature; my behind the scenes feature, 10 Secrets From HBO's Game of Thrones, and much more.

Finally, my advance review of the first six episodes of Game of Thrones can be found here.

Game of Thrones begins Sunday at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.

The Last Waltz: An Advance Review of Season Five of Friday Night Lights

Well, this is it: the beginning of the end.

After four seasons of emotionally resonant drama, a nuanced exploration of life in small town Texas, and one of the most realistic portrayals of marriage ever, television masterpiece Friday Night Lights is heading towards the its final days, beginning with this week's thrilling and evocative season premiere ("Expectations"), written by David Hudgins and directed by Michael Waxman.

It's not surprising that "Expectations" had me getting choked up no less than four times over the course of 40-odd minutes, as characters made their farewells and prepared to leave Dillon behind. While their goodbyes might be temporary, it was a canny way of signaling to the audience that the final parting is still to come, that with just a dozen or so episodes left, there would be no going back to Dillon.

The first two episodes of the fifth and final season--"Expectations" and next week's installment ("On the Outside Looking In"), written by Kerry Ehrin and directed by Michael Waxman--contain an aura of both sadness and hope.

Which is fitting as there is a lot of change afoot in just the first hour alone, as Landry (Jesse Plemons) and Julie (Aimee Teegarden) prepare to leave for college and Eric (Kyle Chandler) and Tami (Connie Britton) grapple with new professional challenges (including, for Tami, one hell of a high-risk student), while also attempting to come to terms with Julie growing up and leaving home.

But everyone has to deal with some new circumstances, some of which are inherently challenging. There's trouble at home for Becky (Madison Burge), who has to deal with a sudden change in her family life as well as feelings of isolation and abandonment. Jess (Jurnee Smollett) attempts to raise her little brothers now that her dad is on the road launching multiple franchises of his BBQ restaurant. Billy (Derek Phillips) and Mindy (Stacey Oristano) have troubles of their own, not the least of which is Billy's crushing guilt over Tim (Taylor Kitsch) still being in prison and further changes at the Riggins household.

What else did I think about the first two episodes of Season Five?

Continue reading...

The Daily Beast: "Game of Thrones for Dummies"

Attention, Game of Thrones uninitiated: you've come to the right place.

HBO's new fantasy series Game of Thrones creates a massive world with its own jargon and a ton of characters. Over at The Daily Beast, check out my latest feature, "Game of Thrones for Dummies," (I didn't pick the hed!) in which I break down the objects, people, places, and curiosities of Westeros and beyond in a Game of Thrones glossary for those who don't know who the hell the Kingslayer is, what in God's name a wilding is, or why they keep saying "Winter is coming."

Plus, there's also an embedded character gallery accessible here, which breaks down 20 of the major characters of Game of Thrones into easily digestible profiles, with character descriptions, likes/dislikes, weapons, family relations and more... including quotes from Emilia Clarke (Daenerys), Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Jaime Lannister), and Kit Harington (Jon Snow).

And don't worry, those of you who are newly emigrated to Westeros, there are no spoilers within.

Game of Thrones airs Sunday evening at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.

The Daily Beast: "William & Kate on Lifetime: 8 Crazy Scenes"

Lifetime’s rush-job TV movie, William & Kate, depicts the romance between Prince William and Kate Middleton with unintentional hilarity.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, "William & Kate on Lifetime: 8 Crazy Scenes," in which I pick out the 8 craziest/cheesiest scenes in a made-for-TV movie overstuffed with them.

William & Kate airs Monday evening on Lifetime.

The Daily Beast: "Game of Thrones Author George R.R. Martin's Top 10 Fantasy Films"

Game of Thrones, HBO's adaptation of George R.R. Martin's first book in his bestselling series A Song of Ice and Fire, premieres April 17th on HBO.

In anticipation, Martin curates his 10 favorite fantasy films of all time, from Ladyhawke and Raiders of the Lost Arc to the Lord of the Rings trilogy at The Daily Beast.

For Martin's previous Curator feature of his favorite science-fiction films, read this. For my interview with Martin; the show's creators, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss; and Sue Naegle, the entertainment president of HBO, read this feature. Fans of the books should also read "10 Secrets of HBO's Game of Thrones," to find out about casting direwolves, forging the Iron Throne, creating the Dothraki language, and many other behind-the-scenes details. And you can read my review of the first six episodes of Game of Thrones here. (Minor spoilers, only.)

Did your favorite make the list? What's your take on GRRM's favorite science fiction films? Head to the comments section to discuss and debate.

Game of Thrones premieres Sunday, April 17th at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.

The Daily Beast: "The Downfall of Law & Order"

Law & Order: LA is undergoing a massive retooling (beginning with tonight's two-hour reboot), Criminal Intent is about to end on USA, and SVU’s leads’ contracts are set to expire.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, entitled "The Downfall of Law & Order," in which I report on the once-mighty franchise.

Law & Order: Los Angeles returns tonight, after a 19-week hiatus, at 9 pm ET/PT on NBC.

The Devil's Due: A Hole in the Wall on The Killing

"Assumptions are your enemy, detective." - Sarah Linden

What were Rosie Larsen's final minutes on earth like? As the trunk of the car filled with water and the darkness closed in around her, Rosie fought for life, attempting to claw her way out of her watery grave. Her mother Mitch (Michelle Forbes, whose performance just becomes more and more emotionally wrenching each week) attempts to experience those final moments, slipping underneath the surface of the water in her bathtub, her eyes open, her heart pounding. It's a moment of attempted rapport between mother and dead child, a heartbreaking effort to know, to understand, to vicariously put herself into Rosie's end in those murky waters.

Continuing last week's strong start for The Killing, this week's episode ("El Diablo"), written by Dawn Prestwich and Nicole Yorkin and directed by Gwyneth Horder-Payton, found Linden and Holder attempting to unravel the mystery of The Cage, the Larsens grappled with life without their daughter, and the Richmond campaign discovered the leak within their rank. Or did they? Hmmm...

This week's episode was another edge-of-your-seat thrill ride, another televisual page-turner, in which we received some more clues about what happened to Rosie and some brutally unexpected twists. Throughout it all, the specter of "El Diablo" lurked just underneath the surface, while that bloody palm print and the grisly scene in the school basement proved impossible to shake.

So what did I think of "El Diablo"? Let's discuss...

At the end of last week's two-hour premiere, Holder discovered The Cage in the basement of the Fort Washington high school that Rosie attended. The episode begins just a few minutes later, the grungy subterranean room now crawling with the forensics team. Amid the drugs and the blood, the gruesomeness of the scene, there's a purple metallic streamer hanging in the corner, its curlicue shape echoing both the dangling tendril of Linden's hair and the windchime in Rosie's bedroom.

But it's the hole in the wall that Linden discovers that gives the detectives their first lead, taking them to the home of school custodian Lynden Johnson Rosales. Unfortunately, after stabbing Linden in the arm, he exits through a nearby window and ends up in critical condition. However, he's able to identify just who Rosie was with in the basement, Kris... whom he refers to as "El Diablo."

What we learn later is just who else was down in the Cage, thanks to an incriminating video on Jasper's phone, seized in class by their teacher, Bennet. What it depicts: Jasper and Kris taking turns with Rosie as they film their sexual three-way on Halloween night. Bennet turns the phone over to the police, even as Kris begins to break, angrily confronting Jasper at school, saying "they know, they know!" While it's the devil's mask that allowed Kris to mingle with his former classmates at the school dance, the video depicts Jasper wearing the mask as he, uh, has his way with Rosie, her pink wig bobbing sadly.

It's a reveal that makes sense, given what the detectives already know. Linden believes that Rosie would only have gone down to the Cage with someone she trusted and not Kris; she would have gone down there with Jasper, though. The video evidence puts all three at the scene, but there are still several questions remaining: What caused the blood on the wall? Was it Rosie's? And how did she get from the school basement to the woods, where we know that she was killed? Interesting...

Meanwhile, Linden had to break the cause of death to the Larsens. Stan is furious about the front page newspaper story linking Rosie's death to the Richmond campaign and demands to know if the police have made an arrest. While Linden is perfunctory, she does also express compassion for their grief-striven parents. When Mitch asks if Rosie suffered, Linden doesn't hesitate to lie, telling Rosie's parents that their beloved daughter didn't suffer, that she was unconscious when the car went into the water. It's a white lie, designed to spare their feelings and not make this experience even more difficult for the two of them, but it's a lie nonetheless. And it's this lie that leads Mitch to try and experience what it would be like to drown. What she doesn't know is that Rosie broke off her fingernails trying to get out of that trunk, that her final moments were filled with anguish, terror, and pain.

Holder, meanwhile, is proving to be even more shifty than I previously thought. Just who was he talking to on the phone at the hospital? He quickly hangs up when Linden approaches and seems flustered when she asks what's going on. Meanwhile, we learn that he's kept some of his narcotics squad tricks up his sleeve. The pot he offered Rosie's classmates last week--and a teen runaway here--are in fact "narc scent." (Or as Holder describes it, "It smells like weed, it tastes like weed, but it's not weed.") Which does clear up some of the swirling uncertainty around Holder, but makes me question what he's hiding. Just how deep into the narcotics world did Holder get? Hmmm...

On the campaign end of things, Darren Richmond has a tense scene with the incumbent mayor (a scene that was in the original pilot, but which was shifted here, likely for time), but he also has other issues on his mind besides the rivalry with the mayor. There's the damage done from the link to Rosie's death and the campaign car and the fact that someone within his camp leaked news of Yaitanes' endorsement to the press... and all signs--namely, a super-incriminating email--point to Jamie. Richmond's sense of betrayal is palpable here, but it's actually Gwen who confronts Jamie about the leak, and Jamie denies it, pretty convincingly.

I don't think Jamie did it, despite what the email might say and he makes his exit from the campaign ("Screw you! Screw both of you!") with a good deal of enmity. He's not someone you want on your bad side, really... especially with the election in just 23 days. (Hey, just in time for the Season Two finale, in fact, if the narrative calendar holds true!)

Darren does get his endorsement from Yaitanes, even as Jamie is seen slinking away with his stuff in a cardboard box. Which makes me wonder: who benefits from the leak? And who benefits from Jamie exiting the campaign? I don't trust Gwen at all, in fact. While she's Darren's girlfriend, she's also Jamie's rival as well, and it's a little too perfect that the leak was discovered in Jamie's email account. How very pat.

(Aside: just what is the connection between this case and Darren's wife's death? Just how DID she die exactly? And what are the similarities between her demise and Rosie's?)

I love the small moments in this show, both humorous and heartbreaking: Linden referring to Holder as Justin Bieber and his retort that he and her son share the some of the same characteristics; Tommy setting a place at the table for Rosie; the nicotine gum that Linden frustratingly chews at the end of the day, the way she sadly looks over the ingredients in a bag of junk food; and the outgoing answering machine message that Mitch listens to over and over again, hearing the life that's in her daughter's voice, even as its very message is--in the context of her death--so troubling. ("We don't know where we are.")

All in all, another sensational installment that had me riveted. The horrific reveal of that cell phone video--Jasper and Kris grinning as they share Rosie--was a brutal way to end the installment and sets up a series of new questions for next week. Just how much does Rosie's friend Sterling know? Why did she run out of class like that? And what secrets is she keeping?

What did you think about this week's episode? Who has entered the frame now as the most likely suspect? Head to the comments section to discuss, analyze the clues, and debate.

Next week on The Killing "A Soundless Echo," the Larsens plan their daughter's funeral; Rosie's friend Sterling unveils surprises about her life.

The Daily Beast: "Upstairs Downstairs Returns to PBS’ Masterpiece"

After 36 years, beloved period drama Upstairs Downstairs returns to American television on Sunday with new characters and the original co-creators checking into 165 Eaton Place.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature, entitled "Upstairs Downstairs Returns to PBS’ Masterpiece," in which I speak to Upstairs Downstairs' Dame Eileen Atkins, Jean Marsh, Keeley Hawes, and Ed Stoppard about the new series, set in 1936 and launching on Sunday evening. Among the topics under discussion: how the period drama relates to today's viewing audience, the character of Lady Maud (complete with monkey Solomon) played by Dame Eileen Atkins, the rivalry with ITV's Downton Abbey, and the broad-sweeping political and social themes of the three-episode season.

Upstairs Downstairs launches Sunday evening at 9 pm ET/PT on PBS' Masterpiece. Check your local listings for details.

Coming Home Again: An Advance Review of Upstairs Downstairs on PBS' Masterpiece

"Home is not where you live, but where they understand you." - Christian Morganstern

My, how time flies: It's been more than three decades since Rose Buck (Jean Marsh) walked out of the front door of 165 Eaton Place and into the future.

For those of us who grew up on Upstairs, Downstairs (created by Marsh and Dame Eileen Atkins) watching the repeats on PBS or on DVD later, the show--which depicted the lives of the wealthy Bellamy clan and their servants below stairs--defined the period drama, transforming the stuffy recreations of aristos into a soap opera teeming with the hopes and dreams (and failures and foibles) of both the masters and the servants of a great London house.

While there have been countless adaptations of period-set literature over the years (Austen and Dickens remain always in style), recently viewers have seen a resurgence in open-ended, serialized period dramas. Lark Rise to Candleford may have perhaps started the trend in earnest, but it was the double punch of ITV's Downton Abbey and the revival of Upstairs Downstairs that truly brought the trend into full bloom.

Upstairs Downstairs, which begins its superb three-episode run on Sunday on PBS' Masterpiece, sees the series return to the small screen after a sizable hiatus. Revived by writer Heidi Thomas (Cranford) and directed by Euros Lyn (Doctor Who), this new Upstairs Downstairs has Marsh reprising her role as Rose, the former parlormaid who now runs an employment agency for domestic servants. The house at 165 Eaton Place has fallen into disrepair in the six years since the Bellamys decamped, its staircase long covered in dust, much like the period drama genre itself. But, before long, the crystal chandelier at the heart of the home, will sparkle once more.

While Marsh returns to the 1930s for the series, she's the only original cast member to do so. The rest of the staff--and the well-heeled Holland family upstairs--are played by actors new to the franchise, including Atkins, who makes her Upstairs debut here as the deliciously quirky Lady Maud Holland, an eccentric widow returning to London following the death of her husband after living in India for years. She brings with her an irrepressible monkey named Solomon, a quiet Indian manservant, Mr. Amanjit (Art Malik), and a propensity for stirring up trouble. Atkins is at the top of her craft here, imbuing Lady Maud with a flintiness that belies unseen vulnerability. In short: she's a hoot, but there's an emotional core to her as well.

Lady Maud is invading a household that's already a bit on edge. Sir Hallam (Ed Stoppard) and Lady Agnes (Keeley Hawes), a childless couple, see the address as an opportunity for a fresh start and the place where their dreams can come true. But there's a hell of a lot of baggage they're dragging along with them. Lady Agnes' sister, the spoilt Lady Persie (Claire Foy), is a shadow thrown over the light and possibility of this new home, and she transforms, over the course of these three installments, from a naive land-rich-but-cash-poor heiress into a loathsome and mercenary creature.

Downstairs, Rose--now newly installed as the housekeeper--has her hands full as well, overseeing a staff that has very different ideas about what's acceptable than she did when she was below stairs as a girl. Ivy Morris (Ellie Kendrick) prefers singing in the bath to housework, chauffeur Harry Spargo (Neil Jackson) spends his time falling into the Fascist movement, well-educated housemaid Rachel Perlmutter (Helen Bradbury) seems in over her head, and Johnny Proude (Nico Mirallegro) conceals a troubling secret. Fortunately, Rose has found some professionals: snobbish cook Clarice Thackeray (Anne Reid) and teetotaler butler Warwick Pritchard (Adrian Scarborough).

The cast is top-notch, as one would expect from any iteration of Upstairs Downstairs. There's a nice emotional throughline to the series and while the plot appears to be episodic, there are strong narrative undercurrents that carry the viewer through all three installments.

With only three episodes at their disposal, there's a lot of plot unfolding here. Characters come and go, matters of life and death intrudes into the space of 165 Eaton Place, and there's as much movement, change, and briskness as you can shoehorn into three hours. (I did wish, upon watching this season, that Thomas and Lyn (whose direction is dazzlingly beautiful) had more than just three episodes to work with. There's an innate sense of grandeur and of recreated glory, but I only feel like we're just scratching the surface here. There's a fair amount of telling, rather than showing going on.)

There's also a sense that the personal and the political are deeply intertwined here, that what's happening inside 165 Eaton Place is both affected by the outside world and also affects it in turn. Real-life historical figures--from Ribbentrop to Cecil Beaton--mingle with the Hollands and their servants and the entire cast of characters--from Foreign Office diplomat Sir Hallam to the lowliest housemaid--is caught up in the changes afoot in 1936: riots in Cable Street, the abdication, rising tensions with Germany, the rumblings of xenophobia and the trumpets of war.

There's a sense that life is about to change in ways that the Hollands and their staff would never, ever expect. While the house may have been repainted, the chandelier restored to its stunning glory, those days that the house represented are long gone and what's about to arrive will change England forever.

Much of Upstairs Downstairs revolves around that sense of fragility and change, offering a view into the way in which people live both above and below stairs. Despite our stations in life, one can't escape the inexorable matters of heartbreak, loss, love, joy, friendship and family. Here, a child's marble becomes an aide-memoir, an emblem of loss and grief, of secrets long kept and heartache most deep.

All in all, the three episodes of Upstairs Downstairs airing this month (six more episodes are on tap for 2012) represent a tantalizing start for this revival, an elegant new beginning for a series that's about the old and outmoded just as much as it is about the bright spirit of hope for the future. Once more, a rose blooms within 165 Eaton Place.

Upstairs Downstairs launches Sunday evening at 9 pm ET/PT on PBS' Masterpiece. Check your local listings for details.

Heart of Gold/Heart of Glass: An Advance Review of Season Four of Secret Diary of a Call Girl

Over the course of the last three seasons, we've gotten to know the, uh, intimate secrets and details of the double life of Hannah/Belle (Billie Piper), the working girl attempting to life her life and figure out just what she wants out of it.

Tonight marks the launch of the fourth and final season of the frothy and fun Secret Diary of a Call Girl and we see Belle standing at the edge of a precipice: Will she allow herself the chance to be happy with Ben (Iddo Goldberg)? Can she ever be happy or hope to settle down, given her line of work? Will she choose between personal fulfillment, professional success, or something that blends the two?

As Season Four--which launches tonight on Showtime--begins, Belle finds herself grappling with a series of transformative changes in her life. She's back in London after a luxurious gig that took her far away from her life and from Ben, of whom she's still sure of what the future holds. Returning to the city, she's now a proud homeowner with her own front door (something all London girls dream of, according to Belle) and, no sooner than she's set foot in her new place, Ben has shown up and is making her heart ache with the possibilities of whether or not they can and should be together.

But fate has other surprises for Belle. Her frenemy and former boss Stephanie (Cherie Lunghi) has been sent to prison and she has two favors--or curses--for Belle, asking her to take over the business for her while she's in the big house (only for a few weeks, she promises) and keep an eye on her naive and innocent daughter Poppy (Lily James). Belle's empty house is suddenly overfull and bursting with life, including the call girls on her books that she must keep happy, including icy Charlotte (Gemma Chan), who wants the business for herself.

It appears as though Belle wasn't the only one with a double life, as we learn here. Stephanie told her daughter that she was a corporate headhunter, and it's up to Belle to uphold that impression and conceal the fact that Poppy's mother is in prison and not on a business trip. While Belle has had to deal with naive girls under her wing (i.e., Bambi) in previous seasons, she's now being forced to walk that fine line between honesty and deception in her own home. While Hannah has managed to conceal her line of work from her family--despite some close calls in the past--she's now wearing a mask around the clock, trying to keep Poppy in the dark, keep Stephanie's business alive, keep her girls happy, and justify her career while approaching a full-blown romantic relationship with Ben.

It's enough to make a girl exhausted, really.

Elsewhere, there's a producer who wants to option Belle's book and turn it into a movie. While Belle can see dollar signs, it's also a possible escape hatch from the, uh, damage that occurs in her life. And then there's that crooked copper lurking around on the periphery, one with a certain interest in Belle that goes way beyond professionalism and a loyalty to Stephanie...

The first four episodes of Season Four, provided to press for review, show the blend of playfulness and vulnerability that we've come to expect from Secret Diary of a Call Girl, along with a healthy dose of sexuality and a never-ending parade of male foibles in the form of Belle's clients: a member of Queen's Council with a reliance on performance-enhancing drugs, a virginal young man, and that copper who has quite an active imagination and requires some very specific details to enact his happiness.

I don't want to spoil too much of the plot but these installments are in keeping with both the characters we've come to know and love and some new situations and tensions for them as well. There's a deftness and a wink-and-a-smile cleverness to the subtext here and the consideration of Belle's line of work and how it affects her personal life, how that hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold trope we've seen so many times might or might not apply here and that Belle might be far stronger or far more scared than any of those other working girls.

At times dark, jubilant, and hysterical, we're seeing the pieces fall into place for Belle as a major decision looms before her in the final season of Secret Diary. Pushed into the role of girlfriend, mother, career girl, the future might be Belle's oyster, but it's also about to clamp down right around her...

The fourth and final season of Secret Diary of a Call Girl begins tonight at 10 pm ET/PT on Showtime.

Knife Block: My Thoughts on Tonight's Season Premiere of Top Chef Masters

In watching tonight's season premiere of Top Chef Masters, the haute cuisine culinary competition series that spun out of Top Chef a few seasons back, it's easy to get a sense of what's been lost rather than what's been gained by the format changes. (The latter can be summed up in two words: Ruth Reichl.)

Gone is Kelly Choi, she of the perfectly coiffed mane. Gone is the complicated but novel star-based ratings system. Gone are the early heats.

What remains is rather like Top Chef. Or exactly like Top Chef, in fact, save for the experience of the master chefs competing here and the fact that their winnings go to the charities of their choice rather than into bankrolling a restaurant.

Choi has been replaced by suddenly ubiquitous Aussie chef Curtis Stone, yanked onto the cable channel while still appearing on NBC's America's Next Great Restaurant. He's affable enough but his omnipresence--from here and the NBC show to commercials--is a bit off-putting, if I'm being entirely honest.

The scoring system is gone completely. Chefs now compete in the Quickfire and Elimination Challenges but the only scoring that's done is occurring behind the scenes. The winner of the Quickfire receives immunity from the Elimination portion of the episode... and the chefs are all sticking around until they're picked off one by one.

While this does allow for the viewer to get a better sense of the individual players over the course of the season (or I'm assuming so, having only seen the season opener), it's this change that makes this spin-off feel like a carbon copy of the original more than any other. While these chefs dazzle with their creativity, innovation, and abilities, it's really just another iteration of Top Chef, albeit one where the chefs competing have less to gain (or lose), other than a sense of pride or a blow to their egos.

Instead, Top Chef Masters hopes to distinguish itself from its forebear with its challenges. In the season opener, the chefs are put through their paces by competing in one of the toughest and most brutal of Top Chef crucibles: Restaurant Wars. In pitting the masters against each other in this fan-favorite challenge, the producers seem to be setting us up for a season full of insane challenges; the implication is that this is going to be the easiest thing facing these masters.

There's a bit of thematic shorthand going on here, but it also rankled a bit. After all, these chefs run their own restaurants and have done so for years. It should be a cakewalk for them, after all. And, while there are some surprises in the mix in tonight's episode, the overall simplicity and ease with which they largely pull off the evening is a testament to their individual experience level. Even without participating in competitions, these chefs have kept their knives finely honed.

And that's a good thing, but it's also somewhat disappointing. Coming off of a particularly strong season of Top Chef, it's hard to shake the sense that we've seen all of this before just a few weeks ago (when the all-stars themselves went through Restaurant Wars).

Which isn't to say that Top Chef Masters won't end up offering a thrilling season of culinary highs and lows, because it's still likely to do so. It's just a shame that the producers took away the original touches that made this iteration separate and unique within the franchise.

However, what's most promising is the presence of Reichl here at the critics' table. She brings a certain je ne sais quoi to the mix and a nice counterbalance to James Oseland on the whole. Reichl is warm where he is prickly, and she's articulate, intelligent, and passionate. She's the heat needed to make the changes here palatable and much of my interest in watching will likely stem from Reichl's participation this season. (Yes, if you couldn't tell, I'm a huge fan of Ruth.)

All in all, it's an entertaining if low-key start to the season. I'll be watching as always but I also want to see some excitement and difference begin to permeate the season.

Will you be watching tonight? Which chef are you rooting for? Happy to see Reichl at the table? What are your thoughts on Stone? Head to the comments section to discuss.

Top Chef Masters premieres tonight at 11 pm ET/PT on Bravo.

The Daily Beast: "Game of Thrones: 10 Secrets About HBO's Adaptation"

Fans of George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire," adapted by HBO as Game of Thrones, already know the novels inside and out. I go behind the scenes to offer 10 secrets from the HBO drama, launching April 17.

Over at The Daily Beast, you can read my latest feature (which is for the die-hard fans of the novels as well as those looking for some behind-the-scenes details about the HBO production), entitled "Game of Thrones: 10 Secrets About HBO's Adaptation," in which I speak to George R.R. Martin, David Benioff, D.B. Weiss, Dothraki language developer David Peterson (and get an exclusive translation of a key phrase), weapons master Tommy Dunne, set designer Gemma Jackson, head animal trainer Jim Warren, HBO entertainment president Sue Naegle, Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, set decorator Richard Roberts, and supervising prop maker Gavin Jones.

Among the topics discussed: Martin's unseen cameo from the original pilot, the crystal blade that the White Walkers use, the Dothraki language, Castle Black and The Wall, food, the direwolves, the Iron Throne, splitting up "A Storm of Swords" into two seasons, where Martin is on Book Five ("A Dance with Dragons"), and what Season Two of Game of Thrones could hold (including which characters the guys are most excited to tackle), and much more...

Game of Thrones premieres Sunday, April 17th at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.

The Daily Beast: "Game of Thrones Comes to HBO"

HBO is about to unveil an ambitious adaptation of George R.R. Martin's fantasy novel Game of Thrones, the first book in a seven-novel series entitled "A Song of Ice and Fire."

Over at The Daily Beast, it's the first of two Game of Thrones-centric features today, this one a broad overview of the series and intended to be hugely accessible for newbies to the series who haven't read the books. (There are no real spoilers within, though I do explain why you need to be watching.)

In my latest feature, entitled "Game of Thrones Comes to HBO," I speak to George R.R. Martin; the show's creators, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss; and Sue Naegle, the entertainment president of HBO, about the ruthlessly addictive show.

Game of Thrones premieres Sunday, April 17th at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.

Where Wolves Prey: An Advance Review of HBO's Unforgettable Game of Thrones

There are few new series as widely anticipated or as closely watched as that of HBO's gorgeous and gripping Game of Thrones, which premieres later this month amid a flurry of promotion, from food trucks and sneak peeks to skyscraper-sized billboards in major cities.

Winter is coming, it seems, and just in the nick of time.

Based on the novel series "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R.R. Martin, Game of Thrones arrives with its brutality and vision very much intact. Adapted by executive producers David Benioff and Dan Weiss, this is a staggering adaptation of a monumental literary achievement, a densely-plotted fusion of fantasy and potboiler political thriller with a deeply cinematic scope.

For those unfamiliar with the underlying material, Game of Thrones revolves around the power games enacted by a group of lords and ladies in a feudal society that's vaguely reminiscent of our own Dark Ages. But in this world, where seven kingdoms are uneasily bound together into an alliance under the Iron Throne, magic once ruled supreme, but has long died out of the land. In the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, summer can last a decade, but the threat of winter looms forever over the action, bringing with it darkness and ice and potentially years of snow. But, despite the brutality of the daily existence, there are those who would plot for their own amusement, engaging in power games in an effort to seize control of the Iron Thrones. Kings are killed, rulers deposed, eunuchs scheme, and lovers risk everything for a bigger piece of power.

Fans of Martin's novels (I count myself among their vast number) are understandably obsessed with the books, which unfold at a relentless pace and feature hundreds of characters and enough sex and violence to last a lifetime. Any concern fans may have had about the HBO adaptation should be allayed within the first few minutes of viewing. (HBO offered the first fifteen or so minutes of the pilot episode last night.) The care with which Benioff and Weiss have taken to painstakingly err as closely to the original text as possible is seen in every aspect of this highly ambitious production.

The first six episodes of Game of Thrones, provided to press in advance, are insanely fantastic, a groundbreaking work of television that's both visually engaging and thematically insightful. This is high fantasy done right, offering a wild and unrelenting plot about the games people play, the thirst for power, the ends men (and women) are willing to go in fulfillment of their own desires, and the things that we do for love. These six installments represent a crowning achievement for serialized television, its taut narrative the launchpad for dynamic conflict, copious bloodshed, and, yes, even a reflection of the mercenary times we live in.

There's a sense of doom hovering over the narrative here, the threat of winter and of darker things on the other side of the 700-foot wall between civilized society and the wild forest creeping ever closer. The opening sequence--which depicts a group of rangers from the Night's Watch searching for a group of "wildings" on the other side of the Wall--is overflowing with tension and horror.

But this isn't a production that coasts by on the small scenes of terror; it has within its bones an epic quality that is seen in the gorgeous credit sequence, which depicts a vast and three-dimensional map of Westeros (and soars across the Narrow Sea to Pentos and the Dothraki sea) in order to give the viewer a sense of space and location. Soaring over Westeros, we're given a raven's eye view of the world of Martin's books, as we see cities and citadels spring to life before our eyes, gears twisting and transforming to show us towers, walls, turrets, and minarets within this spellbinding sequence.

What's inherent within these episodes is an underlying love for Martin's work. There are, of course, some changes. It would be impossible to bring "A Song of Ice and Fire" to the screen exactly as Martin had written it. Any act of adapting a literary work comes with inherent challenges, but the alterations here aren't haphazard but warranted in order to translate Martin's weighty tome into a production that works for the small screen.

But don't let the small screen designation fool you: this is a colossal production that vividly brings Westeros and Essos to life, thanks to dazzling direction (notably of Tim Van Patten for the early episodes), taut writing, fantastic acting, and the high production values enacted by the various departments which have worked seamlessly to bring Martin's vision to television. Nothing on this expensive series is done on the cheap: the costumes, the weapons, the props, the sets, everything writ large.

For those of you who have read the books, I don't need to delve into the plot too deeply. For those who haven't, I don't want to spoil too much about the narrative that will unfold over the first six episodes. However, a few headlines: much of the action revolves around the Starks of Winterfell, a Northern clan whose roots connect them to the First Men, to the gods of old, and to the harsh reality of nature and society. When Jon Arryn, the Hand to the King, dies suddenly, it's Ned Stark (Sean Bean) who is visited by King Robert (Mark Addy) and his retinue with an invitation to replace the man who raised him, to sit beside the king and act as his right hand. While it's an offer that comes with a heavy price, one felt keenly by Ned's wife Catelyn (Michelle Fairley), Ned can't refuse his brother-in-arms. A feast at Winterfell brings the King's wife, the steely Queen Cersei (Lena Headey), her brothers--golden knight Ser Jaime Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau), and their stunted younger brother Tyrion (Peter Dinklage), who must suffer the undignified sobriquet, "The Imp"--and Cersei's children, arrogant Prince Joffrey (Jack Gleeson), sweet Myrcella (Aimee Richardson), and adorable Tommen (Callum Wharry).

The Starks are about to be split up, should Ned accept the King's offer and become his Hand, taking some of them to the south and the luxuries of King's Landing. Ned's children--five trueborn sons and daughters and one bastard son--are the lights of his life but duty beckons with a crooked finger. However, there are signs and omens that life in Westeros is about to change. A stag is killed by a direwolf, the sigil of House Stark, and the huge wolf (whose like hasn't been seen this side of the Wall in quite a long time) died with pups in her belly. When Ned's bastard Jon Snow (Kit Harington) suggests that it's a sign--five wolf cubs for the five Stark children--Ned gruffly allows his children to adopt them... just before Jon finds the white runt of the litter, separate and alone, echoing his own place in the Stark household.

It's an atmospheric beginning to a series that revolves around suspicion, manipulation, and mistrust. Everyone here has their own agenda, playing their own game of thrones, even as they remain oblivious to the true danger that awaits them. And, across the Narrow Sea, the last members of the vanquished Targaryen dynasty (Emilia Clarke and Harry Lloyd) plot their own return to Westeros to reclaim the throne that is rightfully theirs. An alliance between teenage princess Daenerys (Clarke) and a Dothraki khal (Jason Momoa) could sound the end of the peace of Westeros, though the tenuous unity of those Seven Kingdoms could be undone from within...

(Aside: I'm curious to see how easy it is for non-readers to keep track of the characters and backstories here, which are launched fast and furious at the viewer. My wife, who had seen the original pilot last year with me and has never read the books, didn't seem to have too much difficulty keeping track of who was who, etc., but I'll be interested to see whether that holds true for all newbies.)

The actors selected here are at the top of their games, each perfectly cast for the role they're playing. Bean's Ned Stark is quietly powerful, a true lord of the North in looks and action; Fairley's Catelyn all sinewy tension and determined strength. Dinklage is the only actor who could being the cunning Tyrion to life: he's short of stature but a giant in his own right. Headey and Coster-Waldau are superb as twins Cersei and Jaime Lannister; Addy roars magnificently as the bawdy and brutal King Robert; Aiden Gillen is divine as the Machiavellian Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish; Clarke and Lloyd soar high as Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen, the last of the blood of the dragon. Clarke delivers a stirring performance as Dany, transforming herself over the course of the six episodes from a victim into a powerful woman fulfilling the legacy of her forebears.

I'd list every single actor here (they're all amazing), but special praise has to go to the young actors cast as the Stark children, given the difficulty of the roles they have to tackle here. Isaac Hempstead-Wright delivers a jaw-dropping performance as fan-favorite Bran; Maisie Williams is fantastic as little Arya, so suited to her nickname of "Arya Underfoot," all tomboy pout and weapons proficient. (The water dance scene in the third episode brought tears to my eyes.) Sophie Turner brings an elegant glamor to her role as eldest daughter Sansa, Richard Madden a fierce undercurrent of strength to Robb Stark, the heir to Winterfell. Harington's Jon Snow is the role he was born to play: angry, isolated, and desperate to find his place in the world, he's dark and dour but hugely sympathetic. Alfie Allen maintains just the right combination of poise, pomposity, and ego suited for the Stark's ward Theon Greyjoy. The Starks are arguably the heart and soul of "A Song of Ice and Fire" and the actors here are supremely capable of transforming these characters from words on a page (or a few thousand pages) into reality. Their performances are gripping, heartbreaking, and hugely memorable.

What follows is a story of sellswords and slaves, princes and paupers, brave knights and craven conspirators, each vying for control of a throne that can cut you even as you sit upon it. Danger lurks around every corner and in the heart of everyone with something to gain... or something to lose. In Game of Thrones, HBO fuses together the very best of Lord of the Rings, The Sopranos, The Wire, and Rome into one sumptuous and seductive series that is utterly unforgettable.

Last week, I sped hungrily through the six episodes of Game of Thrones HBO sent out ("A Golden Crown," the sixth episode, might be my absolute favorite of the bunch), but I'm anxious to watch them again and again, to fall once more under their spell, to get caught up in the deft plotting and lose myself in the staggering and beautifully realized world that the production team has brought to life. This is the type of series that comes around but once in a lifetime, a groundbreaking and absorbing drama that is utterly unlike anything else on television today.

Miss this impressive and stirring drama at your own peril.

Game of Thrones premieres Sunday, April 17 at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.

Butterfly Effect: The Series Premiere of The Killing

In my review of AMC's addictive new mystery drama The Killing, I compared the new series, which premiered last night with a two-hour episode, both to Twin Peaks in some of its underpinnings (save the presence of the supernatural) and to the work of mystery novelist Ruth Rendell.

The comparison to Rendell--whose family, like Forbrydelsen, the series on which The Killing is based, hails from Denmark--is quite apt in certain respects. While some of Rendell's novels--particularly her Inspector Wexford installments--deal with crime investigation, the majority of them either delve into the pathology of the killer, exploring just what makes a person kill, or the way in which crime, particularly murder, affects everyone both before and after the perpetration of the crime. Of all crimes, murder is the one with the largest emotional fallout: not just to the victims but everyone the victim leaves behind; their secrets and those of the dead are forcibly brought out into the light. There is no such thing as privacy in a murder investigation, no secret unearthed, no feeling unrecorded.

In The Killing's first two episodes ("Pilot" and "The Cage"), written by Veena Sud (the first was directed by Patty Jenkins, the second by Ed Bianchi), we see the detritus left behind by the disappearance--make that death--of teenager Rosie Larsen: a butterfly collage on the wall, a pink sweater in a desolate field, a blood-stained wig in a dumpster, a name scratched into a high school bathroom mirror. These are the pieces that we leave behind, flotsam and jetsam clues for someone to piece together. But Rosie's family has their own emblems to hold onto, sources of guilt or horror: the ripped fingernails of the victim, a missed chance to say goodbye, the puddle made by her dripping hair, the way a broken vase can set off a indicting conversation about blame.

The discovery of Rosie's body, found in the trunk of a car belonging to the Richmond campaign, a car that was sunk at the bottom of a lake, has its own butterfly effect: the injustice of such a crime has ripples that affect everyone even tangentially influenced by Rosie Larsen: the girl's family, grieving for their slain daughter, her teenage friends, the police detective trapped in Seattle by the case, and a political campaign seemingly shocked that they've become entangled in a murder investigation.

That paper mosaic butterfly in Rosie's room, its double echoing, painfully, on the dead girl's neck, says so much about Rosie's life, her dreams, her loves, her optimism and buoyant spirit. But Rosie Larsen is dead. She will never again play with her little brothers, never kiss her father good-bye, never attend another dance. Her passing is keenly felt by everyone, their reactions raging from numbness to rage, from palpable loss to the desire to make sense of it somehow. (Even if that means, in the case of Terry, to blame the girl's mother for not calling her daughter all weekend.)

For Sarah Linden (Mireille Enos), there's an inherent sadness in seeing that paper butterfly on Rosie's wall, even as the siren song of personal happiness beckons to her in Sonoma. The dreary, rain-slicked streets and fields of Seattle seem miles away from a wedding and a future in Sonoma. Juggling her engagement to Rick (Callum Keith Rennie), her sullen teenage son Jack, and her desire to move on from this cold city, Linden is instantly connected with the teenage girl. While every fiber of her being is telling her to leave, to get on that flight, the universe is conspiring to keep her in Seattle.

(Enos' physical slightness here serves her character well. There's an aura of bruised vulnerability surrounding her, even as she stares upwards at the faces of men far taller than her. She's tiny but a giant in her own right and Enos plays her, her ponytail swinging as she walks, as a woman in a man's world who is still very much a woman, even one who "shops at Ross.")

It's Linden's intuition that leads her to discover Rosie's body in the trunk of the car, a gruesome and heartbreaking reveal made all the more disturbing when the audience learns that Rosie ripped off her own fingernails attempting to free herself as the trunk filled up with water. Linden's insight, her quiet nature, make her perfectly suited for this investigation, even as she's saddled with a new partner in unorthodox ex-narcotics squad member Stephen Holder (Joel Kinnaman), a shifty copper who has more in common with Linden's young son than he does with her. (Witness the vending machine food conversation, a favorite from the first two episodes.)

But Holder's instincts are just as solid as Linden's, even if they require some, uh, distinct methodologies. He tempts two teenage girls with pot and an invitation to party, only to turn around and use the information they provide him with a the first real clue they receive since the discovery of Rosie's corpse, locating "The Cage" in the high school's basement, a sordid and squalid hideaway with a bed on the floor and blood on the walls.

Was Rosie held here after the dance? Just what happened here and whose blood is that on the walls, a grisly handprint in crimson? And if something did befall Rosie here, how did she get from the school to the lake, where she met her fate?

Questions abound here and that's only natural in a murder investigation. The connection between Councilman Darren Richmond (Billy Campbell) and Rosie remains tantalizingly unclear. Why was she found in one of the campaign's cars? Did the killer mean for Rosie to never be found... or did they want the body found in order to cast suspicion on Richmond himself? Curious, that. Meanwhile, the good councilman has a leak within his office and all signs point to one of his deputies: ambitious Jamie (Eric Ladin) and smooth-as-silk Gwen (Kristin Lehman). Did one of them leak the Yitanes endorsement? Who tipped the press off about the connection to the vehicle? And just what did happen to Darren's dead wife Lily? And what "trips" has he been taking? Why is Gwen so willing to out herself as Darren's lover and provide him with an alibi?

Even as the investigation circles the political world, The Killing charts several other spheres, delving into the domestic front as Rosie's grief-striven mother Mitch (Michelle Forbes) and father Stanley (Brent Sexton) have to tell her brothers about their sister's death. In my advance review, I praised Forbes' searing performance, which reminded me of Grace Zabriskie's in Twin Peaks. Watching the first episode for what must be the fifth or sixth time, it doesn't lose any of its emotional impact. Raw and filled with unimaginable loss, it's a staggering performance that gives me chills each and every time I see it. Sexton's quivering lip and stammer as he tells his son that they're going to be okay is so overflowing with loss and love that it's impossible not to see the breaking heart inside his barrel chest.

And then there's the scholastic world that Rosie inhabited. Just what is Rosie's friend Sterling (Kacey Rohl) so terrified of? Her nose bleeds when she's questioned by her teacher about Rosie's whereabouts and she jumps inside her skin when she's confronted by Stanley. Why is she so ill at ease and scared all of the time? What's the connection between Rosie and bad boy Jasper (Richard Harmon) and druggie burnout Kris (Gharrett Paon)? Just what bad things has Jasper done in the past? And what is Jasper's wealthy father Michael Ames (Barclay Hope) concealing from the police about his errant son? Harmon's Jasper seems to be the prime suspect here: a brooding, spoilt rich kid who seems to only care about servicing his desires and wreaking havoc in his wake.

These two episodes provide a strong foundation for the future episodes to come, establishing the world and the various players in this investigation, showing us the personal cost to everyone and the quest for justice that lies ahead for our intrepid detectives. Holder makes a terrible error when he tells Rosie's parents that they will catch whoever did this to Rosie. Linden knows from personal experience that you can't make promises you can't keep. But Holder's effort to offer Mitch and Stanley a champion for Rosie might just make them villains if they can't deliver their daughter's killer. Even as Linden puts everything on the line--her role as fiancee, as mother--for this case, there's the feeling that unmasking this killer may prove far more difficult and deadly than Holder realizes.

All in all, there's a strong undercurrent here of dread and loss, one that doesn't let go from the opening moments (including that haunting credit sequence) to the very end of the second episode, when Linden surveys the gruesome scene inside the cage. There's something very wrong about those bloodstains on the wall and the juxtaposition of the witch's hat that Rosie wore at the dance, a sign of the horrors to come. A sign that very bad things are on the horizon...

What did you think of The Killing? Are you caught up in the investigation and the mystery surrounding Rosie's death? And, most importantly, will you watch again next week? Head to the comments section to discuss.

Next week on The Killing ("El Diablo"), Councilman Richmond suspects a leak within his team; Sarah tracks down a witness and is led to a suspect.

Watch the First 15 Minutes of HBO's Game of Thrones... Right Here

Missed last night's preview of Game of Thrones, premiering later this month on HBO?

Fret not, as you can catch the first few minutes of the amazing pilot episode--written by David Benioff and Dan Weiss and directed by Tim Van Patten, below.

I'm curious to know: What do you think of the footage shown? Does it match up to your expectations and your imagination of George R.R. Martin's epic novel series? Did it set the stage for the epic story to follow?

And, most importantly, will you be tuning in on April 17th?



Game of Thrones premieres Sunday, April 17 at 9 pm ET/PT on HBO.