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“House of the Dragon” Doesn’t Disagree With Its Predecessor—But It Goes One Step Further

Illustration by Ciara McAuliffe

Content warning for mention of sexual assault.

This article contains spoilers for the first six episodes of “House of the Dragon” and all seasons of “Game of Thrones.”

More than a decade after the premiere of “Game of Thrones,” “House of the Dragon” finally gets the female perspective right. 

HBO’s top hit never shied away from sexual exploitation and violence. At times it seemed to revel in it, priding itself on pushing boundaries and testing the viewer. The constant displays of naked women weren’t degrading; they were groundbreaking. They were historically accurate. They were necessary. Violence against women was merely a background aspect of the medieval world of “Game of Thrones.” From the first episode, “House of the Dragon” sets a different tone. Female suffering is still present, but now it is at the center of the show’s themes — and male characters are no longer absolved from their role in it. 

For instance, the death of Queen Aemma, played by Sian Brooke, reframes childbearing completely. While she lies panting in the background, her husband King Viserys, played by Paddy Considine, is given a choice: let Aemma attempt to give birth naturally — risking the death of both her and the child — or cut her open with the chance of saving only the child. Aemma is given no say in her fate and the King, obsessed with his desire for a son, agrees to save the child. Her husband stares lovingly down at her as she begs and cries, her pleading turning to one long scream as she’s sliced open. 

The disturbing nature of this scene lacks the leering eye of the original series. Aemma’s suffering is the focus: the camera stays with her until it ends. Her lack of agency is the point. This contrasts with the brutal rape of Sansa Stark, played by Sophie Turner on “Game of Thrones.” The camera lingers on Theon Greyjoy’s face, framing Sansa’s assault around his suffering, rather than her own. While “Game of Thrones” tended to use female suffering as a method of developing male characters, “House of the Dragon” considers exploitation from the perspective of women. 

The character of Alicent Hightower, played by Emily Carey, offers a powerful example of this reframing. At 14 years old, she marries the much older King Viserys. Episode four of “House of the Dragon” features a sex scene between them, with Alicent’s eyes open and her body limp as the king’s rotting body pushes into her. Her misery, rather than the king’s pleasure, is the scene’s focus. 

Alicent and Queen Aemma’s lack of agency does not go unchallenged by the series. Male characters are not absolved of their part in female suffering. King Viserys, a relatively likable character by the standards of “Game of Thrones,” causes Queen Aemma’s brutal death moments after his introduction. Daemon Targaryen murders his wife shortly after seducing  his much younger niece. Criston Cole expects Princess Rhenerya to abandon her entire life for him, becoming a hateful, aggressive bully to her children when she refuses. 

Gone are the Stark pillars of morality. “House of the Dragon” considers one question that “Game of Thrones” never dared to ask: in a world where women are objects and their exploitation is the cornerstone of society, can any man be a hero? There are no equivalents to Jon Snow, Ned Stark or Tyrion Lannister; every major male character is morally gray at best. “Game of Thrones” argued that female exploitation is an important part of the setting. “House of the Dragon” doesn’t disagree, but instead goes one step further: if female suffering is intrinsic to the world, then every man in it is suspect.