Game of Thrones was like a high school girlfriend. It had its dark moments, but it was new and intriguing, like that goth girl who was kind of cute but wore too much makeup.
The first few seasons you had to work at her a bit, let your relationship develop. You pretended that you were interested in the obscure works of Bukowski and didn’t listen to anything happier than Hawthorne Heights.
In the middle seasons, things got hot and heavy. Your lips were in a constant state of chapped, as was the tip of your dick from dry-humping your way through three pairs of black skinny jeans. The later seasons, you started trying your luck with intricate games of hand placement chess. If I put my hand here, my pinky hangs ever so slightly past the rim of her purposefully crooked Hot Topic belt and right on the seam of her undies.
You got a little braver and a little braver until finally, she said those magic words that marked the beginning of the finale, “Do you have a condom?” Gahtdamn! You were in! Now, you hadn’t done this before, but she made you watch that scene in Underworld where homeboy humps Kate Beckinsale’s belly button a million times, so you were pretty sure you knew what she liked.
The saliva swapping and awkward touching intensified, and articles of clothing were robotically pulled over your fresh emo cut when BAM! The old early deposit. You sold the wine before it was time. The fat lady didn’t sing, but it was over.
You see, in this metaphor, the Game of Thrones finale was an embarrassingly short sexual encounter… Not that I would know anything about that… But it’s over now, and all parties are disappointed. It’s time to fill the void, get back on the horse so to say, but with what? Sure there are some decent shows out there. I laughed through The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel and Letterkenny, and I damn near cried watching Chernobyl, but it wasn’t the same.
I wanted my knights and bastards, magic and monsters. I replaced my search with another playthrough of The Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt. What an unbelievable game. Surely it’s as close to a masterpiece as any I’ve ever played, so hot damn if I wasn’t about to relive my high school finale when I saw more information come out about Netflix’s The Witcher series. Is this the answer? Is this our, “thinking about baseball,” or “saying the alphabet backward?”
Now, I have to say; I felt like the Netflix gods were toying with us a bit when they cast Henry Cavill instead of my dear, dear love, Mads Mikkelsen as Geralt of Rivia. I also developed an odd eyebrow twitch when I saw the un-ironed Nilfgaardian Armor, but if you haven’t learned by reading this article that I’m a goddamned optimist, you haven’t been paying attention.
For one, it’s Netflix. They’ve put out some real dingers over the years that proved that they could do dark and heavy. See Stranger Things, Mindhunter, Orange is the New Black, and House of Cards (Fuck you, Spacey).
Secondly, they’re already discussing greenlighting multiple seasons before it even airs. I’d say that’s a pretty good sign given their apparent quality standards. Finally, it’s an adaptation of the books, not the games. While all the cool kids were out partying with friends and getting laid, us nerds were back at home reading Andrzej Sapkowski’s epic book series and sipping on some sweet, sweet loneliness.
In a word, the books are dense, but isn’t that what pulled us all to Game of Thrones? No, it was HBO’s lax policy on nudity and violence actually, but let us pretend it was the depth of the story.
Well, Sapkowski has that. He built an incredibly complex political environment and weaved several intricate character arcs throughout. I can’t say it’s as detailed and expanded upon as George R.R. Martin’s Westeros, but it’s pretty damn close. A good deal of the monsters and superstitions found throughout the books were based on European mythology.
Alps and Leshens, Succubi and Pestas, Botchlings from that quest everyone hates, Hell, even The Wild Hunt, all of them are rooted in a deep history of folklore and story-telling. The source material is there, the track record is there, the funding is there, and my cheeks are clenched here. Let’s hope that Netflix can capture the intricacies of The Witcher’s unnamed world and allow us to make sweet, non-abrupt love to a show once again.
Netflix’s The Witcher is expected to air this Fall, 2019.
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