About halfway through the first episode of House of the Dragon I found myself squirming in my chair, covering my eyes and muttering ‘Why the hell am I watching this vile schlock?’ I think this is probably a good sign. One of the main attractions of its predecessor Game of Thrones was that it kept taking you to places you didn’t want to go – incest, crippled children, mass murders at weddings, sacrificial daughters, lead characters culled long before their time – and on this score at least, House of the Dragon looks unlikely to disappoint.
But I’m less sure, so far, about the court intrigue. Everyone is saying that what Dragon is really missing is the light relief and wit provided by the jaded, drunken, whoring ‘Imp’ Tyrion Lannister (Peter Dinklage). And everyone is right. There are lots of scenes involving oldish men sitting around long tables in vaulted chambers talking politics.
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