House of the Dragon recap: episode four – sex and laughter finally returns to Westeros | Television

Spoiler alert: this recap is for people watching House of the Dragon. Do not read on unless you have seen episode four.

‘The Targaryens have queer customs’

Last week I wrote a post for this August issue about the apparent lack of horror in House of the Dragon. The piece asked whether the ugly, violent nature of so many of the sex scenes in Game of Thrones – and the outcry that had arisen in the wake of the #MeToo movement – had made producers wary of including much more than the occasional flash in their new spin-off, asking what it would take to get viewers comfortable with the prospect of seeing continued nudity back in Westeros.

Barely five days later, I have my answer. To my surprise, it is quite convincing. Bringing in EastEnders veteran Clare Kilner as its second ever female director (the first, Michelle McLaren, shot two episodes in each of seasons three and four of GoT, meaning virtually all of these gruesome assaults were directed by men); the fourth episode of House of the Dragon (titled King of the Narrow Sea) managed to depict sexual activity in a multitude of ways – transactional, dutiful, unrestrained, incestuous, disturbing and quite sweet – without coming across as crude or unpleasant. Considering all that has gone before, it felt like a minor miracle.

‘I know there is only one true king, your grace’

Of course, the episode didn’t start out so cheekily, but in a different register that this series seems to have avoided so far – humorous. The scene with Rhaenyra’s (Milly Alcock) lasting proposals from older men and green boys was really funny and oddly adorable, even if it ended with the sting of shocking violence. Her journey back to King’s Landing allowed for a little more gentle flirtation with her white-cloaked protector, Ser Criston Cole (Fabien Frankel), before the sight of a dragon crashing over the Red Keep heralded the arrival of a more problematic returnee.

The long-delayed meeting between Prince Daemon (Matt Smith) and his brother King Viserys (Paddy Considine) could have gone many ways, so this only-slightly-broken rapprochement initially felt quite comfortable, as did the bubbling garden. party that followed, with Daemon and Viserys bonding over their shared disinterest in tapestries. But of course it was all a ruse – Daemon wasn’t there for his brother, but his niece and the throne she was currently set to inherit.

‘Where people come to take what they want’

Rhaenyra’s escape through the catacombs of the Red Keep took us back to the first series of Game of Thrones, when she slipped through the same gallery of dragon skulls where Arya Stark overheard Lord Vary plotting to crown Rhaenyra’s own descendant, Daenerys Targaryen. Her joy at being out among the meat pots and fire pillows of King’s Landing was infectious, only slightly marred by the fact that her uncle was clearly up to something and that he was making her watch one of those endless sub-Shakespearean mummers -plays that Westerosi regulars and HBO producers seem to find so amusing.

Then it was down to the bowels of a brothel where things got complicated. There was plenty of flesh on display, but none of it particularly shocking. It wasn’t really Daemon’s seduction of his niece that we definitely saw coming (so to speak) either. No, the biggest surprises were Rhaenyra’s enthusiastic response and Daemon deciding to quit, both of which felt startling, but upon reflection were just right for their characters.

Like Rhaenyra’s bold decision – against Leonard Cohen’s advice – to take her lasciviousness home with her and shower it on the first available male specimen, the rather horrified Ser Criston. This association had been on the cards for some time, but it was still a joy to witness, thoughtfully written and beautifully acted, all the awkward fumbling and endless plucking of shoelaces. For the first time in the series, we got to see two people having what felt like a really nice time.

‘Behavior unbecoming of a virgin’

But it could not last. Just as Varys had his “little birds,” Ser Otto Hightower (Rhys Ifans) has a network of informants spread across the city, and it wasn’t long before whispers reached him about Daemon and Rhaenyra’s canoodlings in the basement. His decision to break the news directly to Viserys was predictable, as was the king’s furious reaction and re-exiling Daemon, who seemed quite happy to scurry back to Dragonstone.

And once again, it gave Viserys the opportunity to reiterate his respect and affection for his daughter. Whether or not he believed her protestations of innocence—which were at least partially justified, but not by choice—he was willing to support her and fire Ser Otto as Hand of the King, a move sure to have unforeseen and bloody consequences. Yes, Viserys may have used his daughter’s misfortune to gain enough leverage to push Rhaenyra into agreeing to marry Laenor Velaryon, but he didn’t make too much of a fatherly fuss about it.

Whether or not this promising marriage pact comes to fruition—and we have to wonder if Ser Otto or Ser Criston (or even Rhaenyra’s illegitimate child?) might get in the way—the loving, equally matched relationship between father and daughter has been one of the most pleasant aspects of House of the Dragon so far, and one that feels completely unlike anything in Game of Thrones.

Extra Notes

• Anyone else find themselves doing a double take every time consulting producer Richard Sharkey’s credit comes up, just to make sure Ringo from The Beatles hasn’t made a sudden late-life career change?

• Not content with killing Crabfeeder, Prince Daemon has also defeated his wealthy backers, the Triarchy, without breaking a sweat. Has this whole story come to an end, or is there more to his victory than meets the eye?

• Speaking of Daemon, the floppy indie cut was much needed and leaves Smith looking a lot less like an escaped elf.

• Was the brothel called The White Serpent, or was the Golden Cloak on duty referring to some sort of shadowy underworld figure that Ser Otto has shady dealings with? Either way, it was certainly a loving and highly appropriate nod to the great Ken Russell.

Violence counts

A patch of gruesome between swordplay at the start, a few fleeting glimpses of horrific happenings in the alleys of King’s Landing, and the swinging boot of a brotherly enraged king.

Number of nudity units

See above. Smith, Cole and Alcock (no laughing in the back) and/or their body doubles each of the various surfaces of flesh exposed, while hordes of highly flexible, hopefully well-compensated extras are flung about in a wild display of gleeful, bacchanalian power. But let’s also spare a thought for poor gilded caged heiress Queen Alicent (Emily Carey), whose obedient coupling with the well-meaning but terribly damaged Viserys was much less cheerful and much more heartbreaking.

Random Brit of the Week

That would give anyone pause – Prince Daemon strides into the throne room and advances towards his brother’s throne, only to be stopped in his tracks by the sword-wielding Ser Harrold Westerling, current Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and a truly commanding presence. And fair enough: Glaswegian actor Graham McTavish has quite a CV, from playing a drunken weasel (!) in Terry Jones’ 1996 Wind in the Willows adaptation, Mr Toad’s Wild Ride, to a central turn as the taciturn Dwalin in Peter Jackson’s Hobbit. trilogy. We didn’t want to mess around anyway.