All together now: Hello Hannah.
Whilst I doubt that any member of the public would genuinely greet me following this confession, I do feel as if the only way for me to come to terms with it would be to attend some sort of immersive therapy experience. Let’s begin. I, along with a large percentage of the television-viewing population have been aware of the presence of Game of Thrones for quite some time. And along with a vast percentage of that population, I have been coerced at various points in my life into watching Game of Thrones. Following the hype and the deep, passionate protestations of how madly obsessed I would become with the programme, I reluctantly sourced the first episode, slunk into a vegetative state on my sofa and pressed play.
What follows contains contains graphic and unpleasant imagery and may upset some particularly enthusiastic GoT fans.
I fell asleep. I lost consciousness. I drifted into a far away place, distant and foggy, tied only to the reality in which I sat by the growing pool of drool coming from my mouth. Not only was the programme dull and lengthy, it was needlessly confusing and incomprehensible. Characters came and went on the screen, Sean Bean was in it at some point I think and I honestly, truthfully didn’t care a button. Following the mass exodus from the cinema to the television screen which has happened in recent years, I assumed that audiences had moved to the comfort of their own homes with just cause. However, watch as I did (and believe me, I wanted it to get better), nothing changed. In fact, after one and a half seasons of mind-bending boredom, I did the unthinkable. I threw in the towel and turned my back on the TV series.
Following the television renaissance of recent years, it goes without saying that many believe GoT to be at the pinnacle of modern television production. Whilst it used to be an embarrassing mark on an actor’s career to venture into the grimy waters of TV, today, many are choosing television series in favour of cinema, choosing to develop characters in a slow-burn process and in that, thoroughly hooking their audience in the process.
And yet, not all shows measure up. Whilst TV series are very much outweighing films in terms of popularity, they still look towards cinematic models when structuring their narrative and visual arcs. The problem with that, however, is momentum. Where films can capture their audience for up to two hours with beautifully balanced editing, lighting and sound design, TV shows sometimes struggle to maintain longevity in these areas. Varying from week to week, guided by the hand of a number of editors, directors and recordists, the general tone of a TV series can feel somewhat frenetic and therefore, fail to hold their audience’s attention.
And so it was with GoT and me. Whilst I can appreciate the effort that has gone into the plot, the intricate and weaving details of the narrative, the look and feel of the series failed to hold my attention and as a result of this, my mind wandered and so I didn’t care.
Of course, my opinion is shared with roughly 1% of the Earth’s population and whilst I do not in any of my wildest dreams imagine that I could convert a fan to my way of thinking, I do have one, slightly small favour to ask of them. Please, please don’t exclude me from your life because I hate your programme. Please do not look down upon me as the cretin in a cesspit. Please do not assume that because I don’t follow the programme, I am unintelligent, or boring, or self-righteous. I just don’t really like dragons and to be honest, Yorgos Lanthimos looked at the whole incest thing in a far fresher light in Dogtooth.
My name is Hannah and I hate Game of Thrones. And you know what? I am ok with it.