My jaw was left agape by this rich, moving spinoff. Its two lead characters have the making of a classic comic double act
T
he Game of Thrones franchise has fruited again, like an abundant oak. Where’s left to go? A startling opening, in which a lumbering oaf takes a dump behind a tree, gives us a clue. Chronologically, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms (Monday 19 January, 9pm, Sky Atlantic) sits between the juggernaut original and its courtly prequel, House of the Dragon. Tonally, it’s in a world of its own.
That oaf eventually gets a name: Dunk. Contrary to expectation, Dunk is a knight. Specifically, a “hedge knight”, a lower-status category whose kind cannot afford their keep and must sleep under trees. “Any knight can make a knight” we are reminded, by simply dubbing them. This lack of gatekeeping has resulted in a class system in which highborn valiants scorn their ignoble brethren. They are knights in name only, and only just. Of course, there’s nothing just about this.
My jaw was agape for much of the first episode, as I wondered what game HBO were playing. It takes place largely on a featureless moor, following Dunk in his meaningless solitude, apart from three horses whom he speaks to as equals. He is demonstrably dim-witted, penniless and naive. He misses his father figure – a recently deceased, geriatric, alcoholic knight who beat him. There’s a Beckettian bleakness to this vision. Like much of Beckett, it’s also a comedy.
