The real reason fans hated last season of Game of Thrones

[Stevicus]

The Real Reason Fans Hate the Last Season of Game of Thrones


This article resonated with me more than a lot of contemporary commentaries on fiction and depictions of the human condition. The author writes about the differences between sociological and psychological storytelling, and how Game of Thrones failed due to Hollywood writers shifting the storytelling style from sociological to psychological.

The show did indeed take a turn for the worse, but the reasons for that downturn go way deeper than the usual suspects that have been identified (new and inferior writers, shortened season, too many plot holes). It’s not that these are incorrect, but they’re just superficial shifts. In fact, the souring of Game of Thrones exposes a fundamental shortcoming of our storytelling culture in general: we don’t really know how to tell sociological stories.


At its best, GOT was a beast as rare as a friendly dragon in King’s Landing: it was sociological and institutional storytelling in a medium dominated by the psychological and the individual. This structural storytelling era of the show lasted through the seasons when it was based on the novels by George R. R. Martin, who seemed to specialize in having characters evolve in response to the broader institutional settings, incentives and norms that surround them.

The article notes that our storytelling in culture in general doesn't understand or know how to tell sociological stories.

After the show ran ahead of the novels, however, it was taken over by powerful Hollywood showrunners David Benioff and D. B. Weiss. Some fans and critics have been assuming that the duo changed the narrative to fit Hollywood tropes or to speed things up, but that’s unlikely. In fact, they probably stuck to the narrative points that were given to them, if only in outline form, by the original author. What they did is something different, but in many ways more fundamental: Benioff and Weiss steer the narrative lane away from the sociological and shifted to the psychological. That’s the main, and often only, way Hollywood and most television writers tell stories.

This is an important shift to dissect because whether we tell our stories primarily from a sociological or psychological point of view has great consequences for how we deal with our world and the problems we encounter.

This echoes a complaint I have had about Hollywood and the general perceptions our culture has on politics and the world in general. It focuses too much on individuals and their emotions and not enough on the larger picture. The same mentality shows up in "shaky cam" and Hollywood's apparent reluctance to show viewers the larger picture of what's actually happening. For example, a battle scene might focus on an individual character, but it will rarely show an actual battle map, casualty figures, or a bird's eye view of what's actually going on. This is typical of how Hollywood operates. They want make their stories more dramatically and less explanatory.


This ostensibly carries over into most people's understanding of politics. Political commentators attempt to explain actions and events by means of psychological analysis, rather than sociological or ideological analysis. For example, much of the media tended to dismiss the previous administration as merely a result of Trump's individual craziness, while consistently refusing to look at the larger sociological issues affecting America.

It’s easy to miss this fundamental narrative lane change and blame the series’ downturn on plain old bad writing by Benioff and Weiss—partly because they are genuinely bad at it. They didn’t just switch the explanatory dynamics of the story, they did a terrible job in the new lane as well.


One could, for example, easily focus on the abundance of plot holes. The dragons, for example seem to switch between comic-book indestructible to vulnerable from one episode to another. And it was hard to keep a straight face when Jaime Lannister ended up on a tiny cove along a vast, vast shoreline at the exact moment the villain Euron Greyjoy swam to that very point from his sinking ship to confront him. How convenient!

Similarly, character arcs meticulously drawn over many seasons seem to have been abandoned on a whim, turning the players into caricatures instead of personalities. Brienne of Tarth seems to exist for no reason, for example; Tyrion Lannister is all of a sudden turned into a murderous snitch while also losing all his intellectual gifts (he hasn’t made a single correct decision the entire season). And who knows what on earth is up with Bran Stark, except that he seems to be kept on as some sort of extra Stark?


But all that is surface stuff. Even if the new season had managed to minimize plot holes and avoid clunky coincidences and a clumsy Arya ex machina as a storytelling device, they couldn’t persist in the narrative lane of the past seasons. For Benioff and Weiss, trying to continue what Game of Thrones had set out to do, tell a compelling sociological story, would be like trying to eat melting ice cream with a fork. Hollywood mostly knows how to tell psychological, individualized stories. They do not have the right tools for sociological stories, nor do they even seem to understand the job.

This part chimed with me: "Hollywood mostly knows how to tell psychological, individualized stories. They do not have the right tools for sociological stories, nor do they even seem to understand the job."


I think this sums up perfectly both the failures of Hollywood writers and the mainstream media in general.


The article then covers what it was that made Game of Thrones so popular in the first place. What was it that they did right? What did the audiences find refreshing about the story which set it apart from most of the other dreck which Hollywood produces?


One thing that was mentioned was the show's willingness to kill off major characters, whereas psychological storytelling depends upon viewers creating a bond with the main character, in which case killing off the main character would ruin the story. But in GoT, it only strengthened it.

The initial fan interest and ensuing loyalty wasn’t just about the brilliant acting and superb cinematography, sound, editing and directing. None of those are that unique to GOT, and all of them remain excellent through this otherwise terrible last season.


One clue is clearly the show’s willingness to kill off major characters, early and often, without losing the thread of the story. TV shows that travel in the psychological lane rarely do that because they depend on viewers identifying with the characters and becoming invested in them to carry the story, rather than looking at the bigger picture of the society, institutions and norms that we interact with and which shape us. They can’t just kill major characters because those are the key tools with which they’re building the story and using as hooks to hold viewers.

The article notes that killing off major characters "signals a different kind of storytelling, where a single charismatic and/or powerful individual, along with his or her internal dynamics, doesn’t carry the whole narrative and explanatory burden." Such a style is exceedingly rare in fiction and TV, and it's for this reason that it resonated with a large fan base that took to the show.

The appeal of a show that routinely kills major characters signals a different kind of storytelling, where a single charismatic and/or powerful individual, along with his or her internal dynamics, doesn’t carry the whole narrative and explanatory burden. Given the dearth of such narratives in fiction and in TV, this approach clearly resonated with a large fan base that latched on to the show.


In sociological storytelling, the characters have personal stories and agency, of course, but those are also greatly shaped by institutions and events around them. The incentives for characters’ behavior come noticeably from these external forces, too, and even strongly influence their inner life.


People then fit their internal narrative to align with their incentives, justifying and rationalizing their behavior along the way. (Thus the famous Upton Sinclair quip: “It is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends upon his not understanding it.”)

In contrast, the personal mode of storytelling or analysis lacks any deeper comprehension of events and history. It appears far more superficial and leaves the viewer/reader with a lot of unanswered questions (which they're not supposed to care about because, after all, "it's just a TV show").

The overly personal mode of storytelling or analysis leaves us bereft of deeper comprehension of events and history. Understanding Hitler’s personality alone will not tell us much about rise of fascism, for example. Not that it didn’t matter, but a different demagogue would probably have appeared to take his place in Germany in between the two bloody world wars in the 20th century. Hence, the answer to “would you kill baby Hitler?,” sometimes presented as an ethical time-travel challenge, should be “no,” because it would very likely not matter much. It is not a true dilemma.

{continued in next post}

 

[Stevicus]

This mode of storytelling also appears to influence how people look at the world and interpret events in general, which leads to what social psychologists call "fundamental attribution error":

We also have a bias for the individual as the locus of agency in interpreting our own everyday life and the behavior of others. We tend to seek internal, psychological explanations for the behavior of those around us while making situational excuses for our own. This is such a common way of looking at the world that social psychologists have a word for it: the fundamental attribution error.


When someone wrongs us, we tend to think they are evil, misguided or selfish: a personalized explanation. But when we misbehave, we are better at recognizing the external pressures on us that shape our actions: a situational understanding. If you snap at a coworker, for example, you may rationalize your behavior by remembering that you had difficulty sleeping last night and had financial struggles this month. You’re not evil, just stressed! The coworker who snaps at you, however, is more likely to be interpreted as a jerk, without going through the same kind of rationalization. This is convenient for our peace of mind, and fits with our domain of knowledge, too. We know what pressures us, but not necessarily others.

Here is further explication of sociological storytelling and how it can encourage the viewer/reader to empathize with any of the characters, as opposed to just the main character.

That tension between internal stories and desires, psychology and external pressures, institutions, norms and events was exactly what Game of Thrones showed us for many of its characters, creating rich tapestries of psychology but also behavior that was neither saintly nor fully evil at any one point. It was something more than that: you could understand why even the characters undertaking evil acts were doing what they did, how their good intentions got subverted, and how incentives structured behavior. The complexity made it much richer than a simplistic morality tale, where unadulterated good fights with evil.


The hallmark of sociological storytelling is if it can encourage us to put ourselves in the place of any character, not just the main hero/heroine, and imagine ourselves making similar choices. “Yeah, I can see myself doing that under such circumstances” is a way into a broader, deeper understanding. It’s not just empathy: we of course empathize with victims and good people, not with evildoers.


But if we can better understand how and why characters make their choices, we can also think about how to structure our world that encourages better choices for everyone. The alternative is an often futile appeal to the better angels of our nature. It’s not that they don’t exist, but they exist along with baser and lesser motives. The question isn’t to identify the few angels but to make it easier for everyone to make the choices that, collectively, would lead us all to a better place.

The author then goes on to detail the problems with season 8 of GoT, including the final battle where the writers have Dany go on a rampage (although a few episoes after the series' jump the shark moment with "Arya Ex Machina," as the author refers to her).

Told sociologically, Dany’s descent into a cruel mass-murderer would have been a strong and riveting story. Yet in the hands of two writers who do not understand how to advance the narrative in that lane, it became ridiculous. She attacks King’s Landing with Drogon, her dragon, and wins, with the bells of the city ringing in surrender. Then, suddenly, she goes on a rampage because, somehow, her tyrannical genes turn on.

Towards the end of the article, the author makes a pitch for sociological storytelling over psychological storytelling.

Why Sociological Storytelling Matters

Whether done well or badly, the psychological/internal genre leaves us unable to understand and react to social change. Arguably, the dominance of the psychological and hero/antihero narrative is also the reason we are having such a difficult time dealing with the current historic technology transition. So this essay is more than about one TV show with dragons.

In my own area of research and writing, the impact of digital technology and machine intelligence on society, I encounter this obstacle all the time. There are a significant number of stories, books, narratives and journalistic accounts that focus on the personalities of key players such as Mark Zuckerberg, Sheryl Sandberg, Jack Dorsey and Jeff Bezos. Of course, their personalities matter, but only in the context of business models, technological advances, the political environment, (lack of) meaningful regulation, the existing economic and political forces that fuel wealth inequality and lack of accountability for powerful actors, geopolitical dynamics, societal characteristics and more.


It’s reasonable, for example, for a corporation to ponder who would be the best CEO or COO, but it’s not reasonable for us to expect that we could take any one of those actors and replace them with another person and get dramatically different results without changing the structures, incentives and forces that shape how they and their companies act in this world.


The preference for the individual and psychological narrative is understandable: the story is easier to tell as we gravitate toward identifying with the hero or hating the antihero, at the personal level. We are, after all, also persons!


In German playwright Bertolt Brecht’s classic play, Life of Galileo, Andrea, a former pupil of Galileo, visits him after he recants his seminal findings under pressure from the Catholic Church. Galileo gives Andrea his notebooks, asking him to spread the knowledge they contain. Andrea celebrates this, saying “unhappy is the land that breeds no hero.” Galileo corrects him: “Unhappy is the land that needs a hero.”


Well-run societies don’t need heroes, and the way to keep terrible impulses in check isn’t to dethrone antiheros and replace them with good people. Unfortunately, most of our storytelling—in fiction and also in mass media nonfiction—remains stuck in the hero/antihero narrative. It’s a pity Game of Thrones did not manage to conclude its last season in its original vein. In a historic moment that requires a lot of institution building and incentive changing (technological challenges, climate change, inequality and accountability) we need all the sociological imagination we can get, and fantasy dragons or not, it was nice to have a show that encouraged just that while it lasted.

I think the last paragraph here sums it quite well:


Well-run societies don’t need heroes, and the way to keep terrible impulses in check isn’t to dethrone antiheros and replace them with good people. Unfortunately, most of our storytelling—in fiction and also in mass media nonfiction—remains stuck in the hero/antihero narrative.


I think this also says a lot about how many people relate to politics, especially when it comes to presidential politics and our tendency to see them as "heroes" or "villains," when they are neither.


Thoughts?

 

[Secret Chief]

Thoughts?

Hollywood found to make **** films. Police not called.

 

[Stevicus]

Hollywood found to make **** films. Police not called.

Well, it's not just films. It's everything. That's what influences people's perceptions and modes of thinking. These people vote.

Just in case anyone is wondering why things are the way they are.

 

[Secret Chief]

Well, it's not just films. It's everything. That's what influences people's perceptions and modes of thinking. These people vote.

Just in case anyone is wondering why things are the way they are.

Yep. Grossly unfairly generalising... American tv/films seem to be simplistic fare - and tricky stuff is usually solved with weaponry.

 

[Stevicus]

Yep. Grossly unfairly generalising... American tv/films seem to be simplistic fare - and tricky stuff is usually solved with weaponry.

The same can be observed in American politics.

 

[Secret Chief]

The same can be observed in American politics.

Indeedy. Aside from the gun thing that's the popular appeal to voters generally that works: offer simple (but wrong) "solutions" to complex issues. Preferably with a short slogan.

 

[Stevicus]

Indeedy. Aside from the gun thing that's the popular appeal to voters generally that works: offer simple (but wrong) "solutions" to complex issues. Preferably with a short slogan.

Slogans such as "Bomb 'em back to the Stone Age!"

I often see politics and the world in general portrayed in a somewhat comic book fashion of "supervillains" and "superheroes." It's a rather superficial way of looking at society and the world, but it works for manipulating the perceptions and ideals of the simple-minded.

 

[Secret Chief]

Slogans such as "Bomb 'em back to the Stone Age!"

I often see politics and the world in general portrayed in a somewhat comic book fashion of "supervillains" and "superheroes." It's a rather superficial way of looking at society and the world, but it works for manipulating the perceptions and ideals of the simple-minded.

Lock Her Up, Get Brexit Done...

 

[Shadow Wolf]

My first issue is it's not just the TV show. Martin killer the heroes, he made a more complex narrative by having different chapters from a different character's perspective (thus we see the Stark's fury want for revenge over Ned's death as well as Lannister anger at Jeoffrey for killing Ned).
He deserves way more credit than he's given here, as do the book series.
Amd the last I really don't was bad. We knew there really only two major events left at this point, amd there where many wrong predictions about how it would end, many misguided dorks naming their daughter after the married-title of someone who showed her cold emotional anger and psychotic breaks from reality very early on. We knew shifts had to happen. Hardly anyone is left alive, and most of them are world and battle weary from the past several years, we see a new age of Westeros history dawning, and not only that all the characters mostly came together. The War of Five Kings is over, the war against the living and dead brings a chunk of the remaining survivors together, and after that there is only the final rebellion left.
And after that it's going to be more social because everything has come together, everyone has come together, and the story doesn't really end but rather begins new chapters after people go their separate ways again amd it's decided kings will not be born in the new Westeros.

 

[Vee]

Thoughts?

I've never seen Game of Thrones. Please don't hate me.

 

[Stevicus]

I've never seen Game of Thrones. Please don't hate me.

I thought it was pretty decent up until the last season. The last season was a terrible disappointment for many fans.

 

[Quagmire]

I never watched the final season.

I read all the books, and up until the 2nd from the last season I really enjoyed the show, but somewhere towards the end of that season I just kind of lost interest.

I think that's relevant. I mean for someone who was a loyal (and probably a typical) fan throughout most of the series to just shrug their shoulders and walk away just before the finale, I think that says something about the direction the show had taken by that point.

 

[It Aint Necessarily So]

I guess Game of Thrones jumped the Stark.

 

[SomeRandom]

The last season was kind of disappointing. But I thought it was rather shallow and rushed. Like Dany, I knew they were hinting at her fate but I thought they screwed up her characterisation a few times during the last season. Then again I haven’t seen the show in a while so maybe a revisit is in order

 

[Poisonshady313]

I can sum up the reason in three words:

Lack of elephants.

 

[Poisonshady313]

But seriously though... I wouldn't mind some examples of what the OP is claiming. I don't know that we psychologically focused on anybody... I just think the writers weren't equipped to do the job without the novels being written yet. Too many lose ends were never tied up. Too many symbols and themes never being dealt with properly.

Personally, I thought it would have been cool if Tyrion was a Targaryen, the ******* son of the Mad King and Joanna Lannister (there's plenty of support that this could have been the case. Some of it in the books, but certainly some of it in the show as well), and that there would be some ultimate three way struggle for the throne between Jon Snow, Daenerys, and Tyrian.

Arya's faceless man training was wasted. They spent so much time on it for it to literally only manifest in the killing of Walder Frey. They could have, and should have, used that for so much more.

The spiral pattern of the walkers... unexplained, unsatisfied curiosity...

Bran should have had much more of an interesting story in the last couple of seasons for the end to justify itself.

Cersei... deserved a more interesting fate. Here's an idea... perhaps Jamie Lannister could have gotten killed in the great war in winterfell, and Arya used his face to kill Cersei.

Probably the only real satisfaction we got in the last season was Cleganebowl.

There's so much more that I haven't talked about that was just so unsatisfying...

 

[Kooky]

One of the core conceit of GOT starting out (books and show alike) was that the petty political squabbles of the powers that be would be fundamentally irrelevant to the looming threat of global climate change, but both the show and the books became enarmored with heroes and villains, and the interpersonal drama of the setting's political intrigue, effectively pitting the (interesting, fun to watch/read) political drama against the magic climate change plot. There was, in my opinion, no way to resolve this fundamental contradiction within the series in a satisfying way.

 

[Kooky]

But seriously though... I wouldn't mind some examples of what the OP is claiming. I don't know that we psychologically focused on anybody... I just think the writers weren't equipped to do the job without the novels being written yet. Too many lose ends were never tied up. Too many symbols and themes never being dealt with properly.

And it's worth noting that GRRM himself got stuck midway through his novel series precisely because of the myriads of dangling plot threads that would have to be tied down somehow in a way that would have made the projected ending make sense. It's a series that was too ambitious for its own good - for which I don't fault any of the people involved in its creation, mind you. We got some fine books and a really great television series out of it, even if both started to turn fairly lackluster in their storytelling near the end.

 

[lewisnotmiller]

I guess Game of Thrones jumped the Stark.

This, sir, is well done indeed. You may take a bow.