Review: 'House of the Dragon' More Ice than Fire

HBO Max's "House of the Dragon," a prequel and the first of the planned "Game of Thrones" spinoffs to reach the screen, drills down into the politics, sexual entanglements, and political scheming of its intricately imagined fantasy realm, focusing on the internecine machinations of House Targaryen but forsaking the sprawl of the original.

Where "Game of Thrones" would flit from locale to locale, visiting three or four or five places in the course of a typical episode, the action here is more insular and reflective, with an unrelenting focus on sexual and gender politics. Bloodlines, marriages of convenience, and political alliances take center stage over myth, magic, and martial mayhem.

In other words, this is a series where there are more births than battles. While there are dragon sightings to be had –�some epic burn-downs and thrilling airborne sequences –�the real action takes place in the council chamber, the boudoir, or beneath the red leaves of the Weirwood tree. It's intermittently enthralling, but more often prone to inducing yawns.

The series commences about two centuries before the events of "Game of Thrones," as a council decides who the successor will be to the late King Jaehaerys: Viserys (Paddy Considine), who lacks the boldness of a great monarch? Or his cousin, Rhaenys (Eve Best), who emanates grit and ambition, but would be the kingdom's first female ruler?

Tradition and male pride win the day, and Jaehaerys ascends to the throne. It's a mistake; the throne itself seems to reject the new king, its points and edges jabbing and slicing him, so that his flesh slowly rots and his health starts to fail. But it's the key event that sets everything in motion, as Prince Daemon (Matt Smith), the younger brother of Jaehaerys, seeks power by any means available, while Otto Hightower (Rhys Ifans), the new king's Hand, maneuvers to interject his daughter Alicent (Emily Carey; Olivia Cook plays her as an adult) into the regal line of succession.

Alicent is a close friend of Jaehaerys' daughter Rhaenyra (Milly Alcock plays her in the first five episodes; Emma D'Arcy plays her as an adult), who is smart and precocious; even as a tween she's a dragon rider, and she's not shy about pressing for a fiery military solution when pirates trouble the realm's shipping lanes. But as the girls become women, each maintains ambitions for the throne –�Rhaenyra through direct succession, after she's proclaimed by Jaehaerys to be his heir, and Alicent by way of her son, whom she wants to install as king.

Whisper campaigns and power grabs are the weapons of choice for these ladies, along with strategic male alliances. A handsome young knight and member of the King's Guard, Criston (Fabien Frankel), plays a major role in this, as does Laenor Velaryon (John MacMillan; Theo Nate plays him as an older man), scion of a powerful house that the Targaryens join with through a strategic marriage despite the fact that Laenor is gay. (Another gay, or at least gay-coded, character is Larys Strong [Matthew Needham], an oily snake in the way Littlefinger was in "Game of Thrones." He serves as an untrustworthy co-conspirator to Alicent.)

Fans disappointed with how "Game of Thrones" ended have expressed satisfaction that the creators and showrunners for that series, David Benioff and D. B. Weiss, aren't involved this time. George R. R. Martin, who wrote the novels both series are based on, serves as co-creator, along with Ryan J. Condal. That might be one reason why "House of the Dragon" feels so slowly paced, even as years, and sometimes decades, flash by between episodes. Lengthy scenes in which characters have heartfelt or expository conversations are a staple of stories told in print, but in filmic media like TV and movies they tend to kill momentum.

Martin has long been a television writer as well as a novelist, and "House of the Dragon" does manage moments that are both elongated and riveting. An ill-fated venture into the city's nightlife by the 15-year-old Rhaenyra, in the company of her Uncle Daemon, brims with excitement, sexual electricity, and trepidation, as the pair make their way to a brothel. (At one point, mistaken for a boy thanks to her disguise, Rhaenyra proclaims her joy at not being recognized as a girl, and you wonder whether her tendency toward brash actions will turn out to be a signal that she's LGBTQ+. Sadly, this one glimmer is not to be repeated – at least, not in the six episodes made available for review.)

The brothel scene generates an in-universe scandal, and it's no less shocking to viewers in the real world. She's a minor, for the gods' sake, and he's her uncle! When it comes to sex and violence, as well as castle intrigue, Martin never hesitates to go full mediaeval; incest and misogynistic violence prompted criticism of "Game of Thrones," and it's probably going to be the case that "House of the Dragon" gets some heat for such things, too.

More immediately, the show's look is a departure that might rub some viewers the wrong way. Fire is a recurring motif, standing out against the ever-present gloom with laden candelabras blazing away and crucial scenes taking place by the light of burning ships or celebratory bonfires. (There's the occasional deployment of a dragon in battle, with crispy results.) If winter was a long time coming in "Game of Thrones," this around it's as though winter never left: The sun glows through wreaths of clouds, looking like it's in partial eclipse, and afternoon light streams weakly through cathedral-style windows into council chambers.

Prequels and sequels are hard to pull off because they build on, or around, an established property that had something special to offer. Even if you weren't necessarily interested in fantasy as a genre, "Game of Thrones" had the dramatic chops, plus an array of well-drawn, fascinating characters brought to life by an exceptional cast, to pull you in. Its scale and sweep were essential parts of the formula.

As lushly produced as it is, "House of the Dragon" feels too narrow to match the wild originality and vision of "Game of Thrones." With the original series we were served the whole cake, one surprising bite at a time, over eight seasons; here, at least so far, it feels like we're being offered a single, slightly stale slice.

"House of the Dragon" streams on HBO Max starting Aug. 21.