HBO’s latest “Game of Thrones” prequel “A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” is only six half-hour episodes long. Which is fine, since there isn’t that much to it.
Set during a firebreathing monsters-free period between “House of the Dragon” and the original series, “Knight” is adapted from the first novella in George R. R. Martin’s “Tales of Dunk and Egg” series, “The Hedge Knight.”
The first season’s storyline is simpler than its scheme-laden sister shows. It also seems to want to be lighter, more comic and perhaps more family friendly in the non-Stark/Lannister/Targaryen sense of the term. But the jokes aren’t as clever nor plentiful as they could be. There’s an impressive, if elderly, bit of full-frontal nudity along with well-beyond ribald drinking songs. And while the short episodes can feel like they’re taking forever to get to the good stuff, matters become quite muddy-bloody by Episode 5.
So the exact nature of this production’s tone remains somewhat muddled throughout. If it was just intended to acquaint us with the book line’s title protagonists, though, then quest accomplished.
Irish actor Peter Claffey (“Bad Sisters”) is good casting for thick, towering Dunk, who’s lucky enough to have that dismissive lifelong nickname changed to Ser Duncan the Tall halfway through this tale. Not that that makes him any less, well, dunky; a tween princess is quick to size him up as big and stupid. He bangs his head on doorframes, as if in her honor.
As a lad, Dunk was rescued from a dismal, orphaned guttersnipe fate by the veteran hedge knight Ser Arlan of Pennytree (played in flashbacks and ghostly visitations by Danny Webb). Existence as the drunken old freelancer’s squire was hardly a fairytale. Arlan beat Dunk, made him work like a slave and often left him to the mercy of the elements without the benefits of the cider the self-mythologizing codger consumed. (According to Martin, hedge knights are so-called because they tend to camp under trees and bushes).
But Dunk did learn fighting skills and something of a chivalrous code from Arlan, so when his mentor dies the big guy feels ready to enter the Ashford jousting tournament. Nevermind that Arlan didn’t get around to dubbing his ward, as was the pre-requisite to doing knightly things. Dunk’s smart enough to lie about it when asked.
Otherwise, he’s a pretty decent fellow, often to the point of naivete. Claffey excels at keeping Dunk sympathetic while he muddles through various degrees of fogginess, realization, shattered ideals and even occasional craftiness. His morals are fungible but they stiffen, and some of them grow admirably strong. Even when he betrays deeply held convictions, Claffey leaves no doubt that this powerful fool truly believed in them and might well again.
Also, the guy’s hopeless with women, but that’s no surprise.
Though hedge knights are looked down upon by more noble types, Dunk’s puppylike qualities attract a few adult buddies during pre-tourney festivities. Hearty partying Ser Lyonel “The Laughing Storm” Baratheon (Daniel Ings, who plays a similarly dissolute fellow on Netflix’s “The Gentlemen”) is the only character from this batch who leaves an impression.
Our hero’s deepest connection is forged with Egg, a runaway stable boy Dunk meets on his way to Ashford. The shaven-headed lad follows him to the tournament, pleading to become his squire. Ser Duncan is reluctant to take on responsibility for a child — he can barely take care of himself — but we know where this is going whether we’ve heard what the book series is called or not.
What a marvelous kid actor Dexter Sol Ansell is. He makes undeterrable, puppet show-loving Egg much more than a sidekick. He’s loyal but also Dunk’s constant interrogator, ever(ahem) egging on his chosen boss to think better and discover what he’s capable of. Claffey and Ansell get patter going that Abbott and Costello might envy. These dialogues are “Kingdom’s” only reliable laugh-getters.
Through it all, Ansell never seems more or less than a real child; not too cute, clever nor chastened when wrong, but just enough so. Maybe he’s sneakier than most — those who know the books, know — but the young actor brings dead-on naturalness to that, too.
Things go inevitably wrong for Dunk after a contingent of Targaryens descends on Ashford. Still clinging onto the Iron Throne despite having run out of dragons, this bunch includes the somehow dark-haired heir to the crown Prince Baelor (Bertie Carvel, “The Crown’s” Tony Blair and “Dalgliesh’s” Dalgliesh), his grumpy brother Maekar (Sam Spruell, so poignant and terrifying in the last season of “Fargo,” underused here) and their nasty male offspring.
Their clashes with Dunk generate whatever tension, intrigue and lance-tilting action this season gets around to. Don’t expect anything on the order of a Red Wedding and you should be minimally satisfied.
It is OK, however, to expect stronger stuff from Owen Harris, one of the show’s executive producers and director of its first three episodes. Harris helmed the greatest “Black Mirror” episode of them all, “San Junipero,” and a couple of other very good ones. Guess you can only work with what you’re given. “HotD” veteran Ira Parker shares “Kingdoms’” co-creator credit with Martin, and wrote most of the Season 1 chapters.
But let’s not characterize this as a case of poor execution. “Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” appears conceived as a more modest effort than its epic scale franchise mates. We go into it with expectations pumped by predecessors’ grandiose parameters, when it’s really just the story of a little guy (albeit a big little guy) trying to make his way through the simpler sectors of Westeros — for now.
We should curb our preconceptions. But they also should have worked harder on the show’s characters to make them more memorable. Well-acted or not, mythic folk, like TV directing, are fundamentally determined by what’s on the page.
The first season’s finale is essentially an extended, predictable setup for future adventures. Let’s hope they’re rather more adventurous.
“A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” premieres Sunday, Jan. 18, on HBO and HBO Max.