The unbridled misery of this battle is somewhat undermined by the low death count. When staging something like this, dragging the audience into a hopeless situation, is it not better to compound their misery and kick them while they’re down? Maybe I’m just ruthless. There are numerous occasions where we leave characters in seemingly inescapable situations, only for them to be fighting fit again in the very next scene. It does work against the otherwise effective tension. With that said, every death is played beautifully, as tragedy, bravery, and heroism permeate them all. Edd saves Sam from a grisly fate before he’s caught off guard; Lyanna Mormont brings down a giant before being crushed; Jorah dies defending his queen; Beric sacrifices himself to save Arya; Melisandre gracefully disintegrates in the snow and is blown away on the wind. It’s Theon Greyjoy, though, who gets the biggest send-off after stretching every sinew to defend Bran, who offers his blessing to the man who once stole his home from him. The words seem to complete Theon’s difficult journey to recovery — he has needed to hear these words for some time. Knowing that he’s a “good man”, he at last feels redemption and completes his strenuous journey to recovery before the end. It’s an incredibly emotional farewell to one of the show’s most complex and well-defined characters.

The episode ends on a particularly sobering note that, in hindsight, has come to signify an important event in Westeros’ history: magic is starting to leave the continent once again. Everything that was myth or legend during the days of King Robert’s rule slowly came to life and eventually dominated the focus of the show. Dragons were born and eventually won battles, red priests and priestesses resurrected people, the Night King assembled his armies and breached the Wall, Bran became the Three-Eyed-Raven. But the list of fantastical beings and legendary incidents built over the course of the show is now beginning to dwindle. The Lord of Light’s war has been won, his last remaining follower has passed away, the Night King and the Army of the Dead are gone, and there are only two dragons remaining. Soon enough, there will be no dragons in Westeros and no answers to the great prophecies — just a Three-Eyed-Raven ruling the land exclusively with human help. The Night King’s death is the fork in the road, providing humanity with a chance to prove that, when left to decide their own fate, they can heal and learn to treat each other with fairness. They have so much potential, but what will they do with it?

It’s taken an entire calendar year and a fourth (or possibly fifth) re-watch to figure all of this out for myself, which is all the proof I need to realise that first impressions of event entertainment aren’t worth that much. I’m not sure if any serious Game of Thrones fan went into this episode with a clear head, so I’m puzzled as to why I expected to settle my feelings about the episode a day after it aired. Much like Arya’s journey through the Battle of Winterfell, I thought I was detached from the emotional connection I expected from ‘The Long Night’, but it turns out all I had to do was rediscover them to get a clear view. As I said in the first edition of this series, time is the best cure for controversy, and it was simply a matter of time for me to understand this episode. If I hadn’t taken the time to reconsider my feelings, or if I hadn’t thought about doing this blog series, then I may never have understood or appreciated ‘The Long Night’ on the level that I currently do. It’s more than okay to change opinions after the fact, especially when it comes to landmark episodes and films. For as long as art exists, it will be made to be discovered and rediscovered all over again. There’s always a chance for change.

Grading

Story: A

Delivery: B+

Overall: A-

Stray observations

— The illusion of a single take in the opening sequence, before the battle even begins, creates an excellent little puzzle. You open on Sam, transition to Tyrion, then to Bran. You see Arya and Sansa in the distance of a shot that’s focusing on Davos, only for them to be the featured characters in the next frame. It’s cleverly constructed and nicely edited, and the silence they all share makes the occasion even more tense.

— I’m not sure what Bran does in the battle really, but I’m not sure that’s a problem. He’s a complete pacifist now, more of an objective observer. He’s there to watch over the Night King’s arrival, and then I presume he observes the rest of the battle, allowing events to play out. I don’t think he can see the future and control it, but I think he has a vague idea of it. It’s similar to Alice in the Twilight saga, who can see the future, but only of the current path being taken. If the path changes, so too does the destination.

— There’s another excellent single-take sequence during the battle as Jon tries desperately to reach the godswood in time. During the sequence he leaves Sam behind (presumably to die) because he has no other option, he gets trapped behind a gate containing a group of wights, and realises he’s done for when Viserion corners him. It’s easy to forget that, across this sequence’s duration, as Ramin Djawadi’s wonderful ‘The Night King’ plays in the soundtrack, the living technically lose the battle. The wights swarm Winterfell, Viserion is vomiting up blue flame and ransacking the place, and the Night King is inches from victory. But for Arya, the living would have lost.

— Like all villains, the Night King is felled by his hubris. He (and his White Walker generals) are so focused on the Three-Eyed-Raven that he misses Arya coming to kill him. It mirrors an excellent scene from the third season as Jojen and Meera are introduced to the show. Osha corners Jojen, who is unarmed, and remarks that being unarmed was “poor planning”. At that moment, it’s revealed that Meera has been holding Osha at knife point the entire time. Jojen simply says, “My sister carries the weapon.” It provides beautiful symmetry too, as the Night King is stabbed through the heart under a godswood tree — just as he was created.

— Down in the crypt, political tensions do briefly get a glance. Missandei rightly points out that the living would be absolutely screwed without Daenerys’ forces, and that Sansa should watch her tongue when it comes to discussing divided loyalties. Tyrion and Sansa share a delicate moment later as the dead run amok in the crypts that arguably seals their trust. But more on that later. Also, I’m not sure if I fully subscribe to the idea that putting Varys, Gilly, etc. in the crypts was poor writing. There’s a difference between somewhere being “the safest possible place” and actually being a safe place, and I’m not sure if the majority made that connection. It’s like being asked to hide in behind mattresses during a nuclear attack — it won’t exactly be safe, but it might stop you from being instantly vaporised.

— Daenerys immediately changes her plans when she watches her Dothraki forces lose significant numbers early on. She’s still got her eye on being able to use them in the aftermath.