Three years later, we are back
in Westeros. We’re not here to
revisit the aftermath of the tragedy
that was the original “Game
of Thrones,” but rather to bear
witness to another, earlier, clash
for the Iron Throne. This time, it
stays in the family — in more ways
than one.
HBO Max’s “House of the
Dragon” centers on the all-powerful
Targaryen dynasty — ancestors
of the now-infamous Daenerys
Targaryen (Emilia Clarke, “Last
Christmas”). Episode one, titled
“The Heirs of the Dragon,” starts
at the peak of the Targaryen’s
reign over the Seven Kingdoms and
sets us up for a bloody civil war,
spurred, as always, by that ugly
Iron Throne — which has now been
updated with more swords to look
even more menacing. In that vein,
“House of the Dragon” stays true to
its parent show. The Iron Throne
causes the same bloodlust, anxiety
and anger as it did in “GoT.” This,
in conjunction with faces getting
smashed in by axes, explicit brothel
scenes
and
some
incestuous
tension,
is
a
reminder
from
showrunners Miguel Sapochnik
and Ryan Condal that yes, this is
still the same world.
The plot of “House of the
Dragon” is adapted from a section
of George R.R. Martin’s “Fire
and Blood,” a novel detailing the
Targaryen family history written
in the form of a history textbook.
What this means is that the
showrunners were tasked with
reconciling objective history with
emotion, taking the time to flesh
out historical accounts with rich
storytelling. The episode opens
with a prologue scene detailing
the ascension of Viserys Targaryen
(Paddy Considine, “The Outsider”)
to the Iron Throne over his elder
cousin, Rhaenys (Eve Best, “Nurse
Jackie”). The episode then cuts
forward to Viserys’s eldest child,
the
young
princess
Rhaenyra
Targaryen (Milly Alcock, “The
Gloaming”), standing by as the
lords of the small council discuss
the matter of Viserys’s succession.
In doing so, the show quickly
establishes the strict patriarchal
nature of the lords of Westeros, who
refuse to put a woman on the Iron
Throne (sound familiar?).
The cast does a wonderful job
of establishing their characters’
motivations
and
personalities
early
on.
Matt
Smith
(“The
Crown”) shines as Prince Daemon
Targaryen, the younger brother
of the king with a propensity for
violence befitting the genre. The
conversations between Daemon
and Rhaenyra in the High Valyrian
language serve to establish both the
strong bond that the Targaryens
have with each other and the
superiority they feel over others.
Considine displays King Viserys’s
anxious and fragile nature aptly,
although the ill-fitting platinum
blonde wig takes a while to get used
to. Rhys Ifans (“The King’s Man”)
plays Otto Hightower, the Hand of
the King, with cunning and a drawl
evocative of Tywin Lannister.
Emily Carey (“Get Even”) plays
Otto’s daughter, Alicent Hightower,
and together with Alcock, the two
establish Alicent and Rhaenyra’s
tender and complex friendship —
one that is bound for a major falling
out as the story progresses. Steve
Toussaint (“Judge Dredd”) and
Fabien Frankel (“The Serpent”)
leave a lasting impression as the
commanding Lord Corlys Velaryon
and the charming Ser Criston Cole,
respectively.
Cinematically, “House of the
Dragon” doesn’t miss a beat.
This era of Targaryen rule is
demarcated by an abundance of
dragons, paired with a new score by
composer Ramin Djawadi, which
incorporates
familiar
melodies
from previous pieces like “The Iron
Throne.”
Director
Sapochnik
brings the same talent that he
brought to past “GoT” episodes
like “Hardhome” and “The Winds
of Winter.” He cuts back and forth
between scenes of the jousting
tournament to the labor of Queen
Aemma Arryn (Sian Brooke,
“Sherlock”), both of which are
incredibly violent and bloody.
The best moments of the pilot
episode are near the end. We learn
that both Queen Aemma and her
newborn son Baelon die shortly
after the birth, as evidenced
by a funeral scene in which
Rhaenyra unleashes her very
first “Dracarys!” Viserys must
now choose between allowing
his reckless brother Daemon
to remain his heir by default or
breaking tradition and naming
his daughter Rhaenyra as his
successor. In a rapid turn of events
involving a brothel, the king’s
brother and the words “heir for a
day,” Viserys names his daughter
as his heir and banishes Daemon.
In the dragon skull cellar, the king
reveals to his daughter a prophecy
that has been passed from ruler
to ruler. He says that the first
Targaryen conqueror, Aegon, had
a dream of “the end of the world
of men” brought forth by a great
winter from the North — one that
can only be stopped if Westeros is
united under a Targaryen ruler.
As Viserys tells his daughter
about this “Song of Ice and Fire,”
he places a firm hand on his
dagger, which watchful viewers
will recognize as the same dagger
used to vanquish the Night King
over a century later. This well-
placed information frames the
last events of “GoT” in a new
light and gives book readers more
information regarding the still
unfinished series.
In a universe as dense as “GoT,”
the pilot episode of “House of
the Dragon” does a stellar job of
Desire is often ephemeral — it is
confusing, fleeting and never fully
known. Debut author Lillian Fish-
man knows this and uses desire’s
fluidity as the basis of her novel
“Acts of Service.” As one of the
most anticipated books of 2022,
her novel carefully navigates the
entanglement of the sex lives of
three New Yorkers of contrasting
but highly complementary person-
alities.
As the novel is motivated pri-
marily by the first-person nar-
ration of the self-aware and
self-critical introspections of the
main character, Eve, the reader is
required to attempt to empathize
with her. In the beginning of her
arc, Eve feels discontent within
her relationship and senses she
needs something more than the
long-term dullness of her girl-
friend Romi. Romi lives outside of
Eve’s sexual desire; she is doting,
respectful and sexually consistent.
Though Eve desires it, Romi refus-
es to shrink Eve into being just an
object of desire. To combat this,
Eve publishes her nude photos on
an online forum, hoping for vali-
dation from self-objectification.
As written in the closing sentence
of the first chapter, against all her
better rationales, Eve recognizes
her sexuality — in spite of her ethi-
cal and moral dilemmas. This cre-
ates the first wave of dissonance
between her external life and her
internal abyss of sexual repres-
sion and presents the book’s cen-
tral fallacy: Rather than exploring
the nuances of desire, Fishman
instead depicts the oasis of illusory
sexual power an allegedly emanci-
pated woman can have within the
patriarchy.
To fall into her freedom, Eve
resolves to cheat on her girl-
friend, messaging a local woman
named Olivia on the nude forum.
She becomes engulfed in the rela-
tionship between Olivia and her
partner Nathan, which hinges
upon pushing sexual taboos and
enabling the freedom of their
desires. The couple often explores
power dynamics, whether it be
physically degrading or verbal-
ly disparaging Olivia’s body, or
Nathan bringing in another girl
to sleep with in front of Olivia’s
masochistically voyeuristic eye.
Eve is brought in as a third girl,
making her very role in the trio’s
dynamic one of female competi-
tion and comparison. Among the
triangulation of male attention,
Eve repeatedly claims to long for
the attention of Olivia. Olivia is
the antithesis of Eve in role and
personality, and their innate fight
for male validation is a central
motivation of their dysfunctional
threesome. Olivia is aroused by
this competition, whereas Eve
both relishes it and wants to break
them out into a different world of
fantasy — one where only the two
girls are together.
Though the novel is nearly
entirely confessional and intro-
spective, the reader’s empathy
for Eve dissipates early. Due to
her pressurized position in the
dynamic, Eve follows the recent
trend of harsh, unlikable female
protagonists — and she may be
among the most unlikable in this
subgenre. But this is not to say that
her character or thoughts were
dull and predictable; rather, every
single thought and action feels
frustratingly
razor-edged
and
seductive. In Eve’s truest fashion,
she reflects that, “For the shine
of life, I thought, immense teams
of participants were required:
Men were required, women were
required, respect and disrespect
were required, love and the lust of
hatred were required.” She is not a
character that can be limited — she
reaches up to grasp every fruit of
her desire.
Seductions are the materialized
fruits of Eve’s desire: the luxuries
given to a woman who is objecti-
fied by a man with financial and
social power and the ease given to
a woman who forgets herself with-
in dominant heterosexual scripts.
Despite her constant cognizant
whines and contemplations, Eve
eats the fruit whenever the oppor-
tunity presents itself. To attract
objectifying attention, she cheats
4 — Wednesday, September 7, 2022
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Lillian Fishman’s ‘Acts of Service’ is a
sweetened bruise on the fruit of desire
Disney World transformed me into a toy and a rat all in one week
‘House of the Dragon’ is on its
way to win back bitter fans
Design by Melia Kenny
AVA BURZYCKI
Daily Arts Writer
SWARA RAMASWAMY
Daily Arts Writer
LAURA MILLAR
Daily Arts Writer
Cover art for “Acts of Service” owned by Hogarth.
This image is from episode one of “House of the Dragon,” distributed by HBO Max.
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
on her girlfriend repeatedly; to
get the elusive girl, she enters a
competition of comparison that
she was purposely set up to win
from the start; to keep the luxu-
ries of being a hot woman on a
powerful man’s arm, she inten-
tionally strays from her moral
compass. The metaphor of fruit
is used intentionally here, due to
the unmistakable biblical allu-
sion of Eve’s name representing
the original sin of desire.
As potentially the only “moral”
redemption for Eve’s actions, she
is in a constant internal struggle
throughout the novel. She, much
like the perceived target audi-
ence of young women, is being
pushed and pulled by various
power sources. Her societal pres-
sures, her sexual desire, Nathan’s
seductive power and her desire
to be morally “good” are perpet-
ually at odds. While standing on
the cliff before jumping fully into
the proposed sexual dynamic,
Eve asks herself, “Was I still a
person who would deny what I
felt simply because I disliked it?”
This constant dissonance cre-
ates tension between herself and
every character within the novel,
and potentially even more ten-
sion between Eve and the reader.
As the final punch, Fishman
wraps up her novel by includ-
ing a sexual misconduct lawsuit
against Nathan — one where
he clings to his claim of inno-
cence and which Eve treats with
nonchalance and apathy. This
alleged sexual misconduct feels
distasteful in the rhetoric of the
modern #MeToo landscape. Eve
really only takes consideration of
the allegations when she remem-
bers that Nathan is Olivia’s boss,
which hangs over her head to
further amplify their power
dynamic. Additionally, the novel
plays upon three harmful stereo-
types: the male-obsessed bisex-
ual, the cheating bisexual and a
love triangle with two women in
competition for a man. These ste-
reotypes build the unlikability of
Eve’s character and ultimately
destroy her merit. This is anoth-
er contributor to the overarching
disparagement of feminist social
and sexual standards.
Despite the messy arcs and
dependence upon post-feminist
themes, the story contains syn-
apses and shimmers of genuine
insight into gendered power,
female sexuality and the tradi-
tionally marginalized experience
of womanhood. Unfortunately,
the poignant, memorable lines
are overshadowed by the fact
they are all in the context of a
novel that is either a failed satire
or a genuine story of barely any-
thing more than two privileged
women idolizing an insufferably
powerful man.
I love living in a reality that
is not my own; that’s why I read
and write and watch movies. And
that also happens to be why I go
to Disney World.
As my last hoorah for the
summer, I traveled to Orlando
with some family and friends to
explore the most magical place
on Earth. For seven days straight,
we arrived at the park at opening
and left at closing, spending
around 15 hours there each day
and walking close to 70 miles by
the end of our seven-day trip.
Much like how my feet are still
aching as if I were walking down
Main Street towards Cinderella’s
Castle, my mind is still stuck
on the level of immersion I felt
wandering through the worlds of
my favorite Pixar movies.
“Toy Story”
In Disney’s Hollywood Studios
Theme Park, there is a section
of land dedicated to the “Toy
Story” series. Toy Story Land
features
attractions
such
as
Slinky Dog, Toy Story Mania and
Buzz Lightyear’s Space Ranger
Spin. Whether or not you enjoy
rides, it’s almost impossible not
to smile as you slowly catch onto
the details surrounding you.
Toy Story Land is built so that
each guest feels as though they
too are a toy. Cast members refer
to the land as “Andy’s Backyard,”
and the rides and restaurants
surrounding you reflect that
idea. If you look closely, there
are larger-than-life footprints,
created by none other than Andy
himself. The outdoor dining spot
is called “Woody’s Lunchbox.” To
order, you line up behind a large
lunchbox held up by a thermos
about three times your size and
sit on a piece of Babybel cheese
large enough for two while you
eat classic lunchtime meals, my
favorite being the grilled cheese
and tater tots.
The level of immersion in
Toy Story Land is unmatched
— I couldn’t help but feel like I
really was among Woody and
Buzz and the rest of Andy’s toys.
Something I’ve always admired
about the series is how well each
movie portrays being a kid and
growing up. “Toy Story” masters
the portrayal of what every child
wishes to see — their toys coming
to life. The films also display the
emotional bond a child can build
with their toys, an attachment
that comes to represent the
hardships of growing up and
letting go.
In the parks, we are so
immersed in this world around us
that we again become children,
and it’s difficult not to replay
in our minds what it was like to
be so attached to an inanimate
object. Watching the films, I am
reminded of what it is like to let
go and grow up. Walking through
the park, I actually lived through
that.
As someone who appreciates
the art of Pixar storytelling and
has rewatched the “Toy Story”
series several times, there’s no
better reward for a fan than
being able to walk through the
world that once existed only on
screen.
“Ratatouille”
The
“Ratatouille”-based
attraction in Disney’s Epcot is
less than a year old, meaning
that even as a frequent Disney-
goer, I had yet to ride Remy’s
Ratatouille
Adventure.
To
prepare for the attraction and
to make sure I would catch all
the details, I sat down a few days
before my Disney trip to rewatch
Remy (Patton Oswalt, “Pets 2”)
and Linguini (Lou Romano,
“The Incredibles”) scheme in
Gusteau’s kitchen.
As I approached the front of
the line, I noticed that instead of
a typical cart, each ride vehicle
was a rat made to fit six guests.
We
followed
Remy
through
Gusteau’s kitchen as if we were
the size of one of his rat relatives.
Like Toy Story Land, Remy’s
Ratatouille
Adventure’s
main
mission is immersion. But instead
of being a toy, I became a rat. And
it’s surprisingly pretty fun.
While following Remy through
the kitchen on his adventure to
become the best chef in France,
I realized that I was becoming
a part of his success. We helped
Remy hide from Skinner (Ian
Holm, “Alien”) and ran through
the pipes of the restaurant to
escape being caught. The main
message of the film is that anyone
can cook, and as inspiring as the
idea that talent can come from
anywhere is, it’s even more
satisfying and encouraging to
watch Remy prove it.
“Monsters, Inc.”
The Monsters, Inc. Laugh
Floor has been a Magic Kingdom
classic since I was a little kid.
Mike Wazowski (Billy Crystal,
“When
Harry
Met
Sally…”)
announces
that
instead
of
collecting screams to power
Monstropolis, the crew must
collect laughter, a more powerful
resource. Guests step into the
theater, and the monsters we
know and love appear on screen
to perform stand-up and collect
energy through our laughter.
Again, we, as guests, are put
into the story. Just like in the
movie, the monsters need to
power Monstropolis. In this
alternate story, we have become
directly involved in their mission.
That’s what Disney World seems
to master — creating an alternate
story (similar enough to the
original plot of the movie that
fans still understand the goal of
the attraction), immersing the
audience into that new story and
referencing all the fan-favorite
moments and lines of the films.
While at Disney, I learned
that maybe I am a Disney Adult
because of how much I love and
appreciate Disney movies. These
rides would mean nothing to me
without what is at the foundation
of each — a well-written story.
And what’s better than truly
jumping right in?