House of the Dragon is back, and it’s totally fine if you can’t remember the houses, the dragons, or anything else.
Photo: Theo Whiteman/Theo Whiteman
If you feel a little confused while watching the first episode of House of the Dragon’s second season Sunday night, don’t feel bad. Nearly two years have passed since the first debuted on HBO, and that’s a long time to remember exactly who got eaten by a dragon and why, among all the other things that happened in a show that is practically designed to confuse anyone who comes in contact with it.
The basic plot of season two — the leaders of Westeros unleash a massive dragon war because two former best friends can’t agree about which one of them got permission to claim the throne from their father/husband — is straightforward enough. But it’s easy to lose sight of that through all the complicated details and even more complicated wigs layered atop that central conflict.
First of all, several people on this show have the same blond-white Legolas hair, and it’s hard to keep track of which one is which, with the exception of the guy with the missing eyeball and the chin that could cut glass. (His name is Aemond — see, I know things!) In general, there are a lot of characters in this show to keep straight; if I had a dollar for every time I said, “Wait, who the hell is that?” while watching the season-two premiere, I’d have … I don’t know, at least seven bucks?
Not helping matters: A lot of these characters’ names are nearly indistinguishable. You’re telling me that a woman named Rhaenyra has a cousin named Rhaenys and a stepdaughter named Rhaena? There are at least three different Aegons I’m expected to keep track of?? That’s preposterous and while I accept it, I cannot process it.
The point is: You could drive yourself crazy trying to re-memorize the entire Targaryen family tree every Sunday night. If that approach appeals to you, by all means go for it — we have no shortage of pieces here at Vulture to aid you in that endeavor. But I would like to propose another option. You can decide that you don’t have to grasp every nuance of every conversation that takes place around a massive wooden table and just vibe with the show. A lot of fans will say that you can’t watch this series without fully committing to it, but they are liars. It is possible to half-ass anything if you really put your mind to not thinking very hard about it. In fact, keeping things breezy with HOTD may even come with benefits, such as …
It is so much easier to watch TV when you don’t have to worry about whether it’s making any sense. You can drink a glass of wine or pop an edible and observe wars being planned with the same lack of concern as the real-life world leaders who plan actual wars. This bloody, byzantine drama can be your time to unwind if you let it.
When you’re not wasting energy trying to pass yourself off as an expert on all things Westeros, you can embrace how hilarious this series is. For example: There are identical twins whose names are Erryk and Arryk. Like, their mom and dad considered how hard it might be to tell their babies apart and addressed the problem by giving them names that sound exactly alike. Also, when you really think about it, this entire series is based on a misunderstanding over too many Aegons, so it’s essentially Three’s Company. Fingers crossed it eventually runs all the way with that idea by having Rhaenyra, Alicent and Ser Criston Cole move in together while trying to convince some other Westeros royal — King Furley of Norman Fell — that there’s nothing sexy going on between them.
This gentleman will only ever be known as Lurking Foot Fetish Guy.
Allow yourself to be hypnotized by the intricacies of Princess Rhaenys’s braids. Be simultaneously soothed and empowered by the gentle authority in Emma D’Arcy’s voice. Bathe in the overwhelming amount of candlelight that suggests the season-two production team purchased every candle on earth and we’ll soon be facing a wax shortage.
Even if some important details elude you, you’ll absorb enough as a casual watcher to keep up with any House of the Dragon conversations that come up at parties or among friends. For example, you could say, “It’s really horrible the way they’re treating Rhaenyra” and sound emotionally invested without offering any insight or specifics. Even a simple: “Aegon, am I right?” will kick-start a conversation that could flow in any number of directions depending on which Aegon your friends think you’re referencing. Just remember to speak about the show the way men are suddenly discussing the WNBA: as if they totally know what they’re talking about when they’ve barely been paying attention. My friends, it is liberating.
