Gary Cassidy and Simone Knox

'You Win or You Die', the seventh episode from the first season of *Game
of Thrones* (HBO, 2011-present), contains a scene that has deservedly
gathered attention and acclaim. One of the moments when the television
series moves away from its source material, fans and
[critics](http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/showtracker/2012/03/game-of-thrones-executive-producer-db-weiss.html){target="_blank"}
alike have praised the introduction of Tywin Lannister's character, who,
played by Charles Dance, has a discussion with his son Jamie (Nikolaj
Coster-Waldau) concerning House Lannister's embroilment in the civil war
that is unfolding in Westeros, whilst skinning a deer stag. [Watch it
here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47MazYDnmaU){target="_blank"}.

Quite refreshingly, discursive attention has not been negatively centred
on issues of adaptation and fidelity,[\[1\]](#_ftn1){#_ftnref1} but has
instead paid recognition to the imaginative symbolism (the stag is the
animal of the House Baratheon, a key rival for the Lannisters), the use
of a real deer stag during production, as well as the fact that actor
Charles Dance practised with a butcher prior to filming. Our attention
lies with Dance's acting and the way in which this gives texture to his
characterisation of Tywin Lannister, in way that interestingly touch on
issues concerning performance.

[![A2](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/A2.png "A2"){.addCaption
.aligncenter loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="350"
height="196"}](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/A2.png)

[![A3](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/A3.png "A3"){.addCaption
.aligncenter loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="350"
height="196"}](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/A3.png)

[![A4](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/A4.png "A4"){.addCaption
.aligncenter loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="350"
height="193"}](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/A4.png)Just
as well [he is not a
vegetarian](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEzpu4H9gGg&t=3m40s){target="_blank"}:
Charles Dance skins a deer.

What is worth noting about this scene is that, first of all, it actually
exhibits a lot of the skinning and butchering: unlike the familiar sight
of a character playing the piano within a camera framing that just so
happens to separate the character's head/torso from the (talent
double's) piano-playing hands, the composition and cutting here
emphasise, if not insist, that it is Charles Dance who is physically
handling an animal carcass. Whilst the sequence is a composite of
different takes (as the switch of the knife reveals), over the course of
the four and a half minutes, we do see (and hear) Charles Dance cutting
through flesh and sinew, pulling out guts, yanking back flaps of skin,
and even placing one of the animal's haunches over his shoulder. With
short, sharp, powerful hand movements, nasal grunts, and visceral sound
effects for the work of knife and hands, this sequence renders a visible
(and audible) performance, of strength and skill, by character and
actor.

That this scene was devised and included already sets up something about
the intentions for the character: keeping up his physical skills, Tywin
Lannister is introduced as a man who is always prepared, engaged in all
aspects of warfare and who recognises the importance of physical actions
and power (and their display). The quality of movement, enabled by the
actor having received some training, is crucial, however, in terms of
characterisation: the forceful, methodical, decisive and efficient
economy of movement of the knife through different textures leaves no
doubt that this character, whilst not revelling in violence for the sake
of it, nevertheless is both willing and able to do what is necessary
(for him, this is hinged around the protection and continued rise to
power of the House Lannister). This encapsulates on the level of gesture
and movement the text's wider preoccupation with moral complexities; as
Shannon Wells-Lassagne (2013, 417) observes, 'the clear-cut villains
that seem to people the novels soon prove to be more understandable
villains, while the actions of the heroes are increasingly less morally
palatable.'

[![B1](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/B1.png "B1"){.addCaption
.aligncenter loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="350"
height="195"}](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/B1.png)

[![B2](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/B2.png "B2"){.addCaption
.aligncenter loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="350"
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That will come out in the wash: a look of knowledge and composure.

Ironically, the dialogue of the scene at one point concerns itself with
the use of 'clean' working methods for what is essentially the dirty
business of warfare; and the theme of cleanliness and dirtiness is not
only reflexively echoed in Charles Dance's efficient handling of the
knife, but also further developed in his repeated wiping of his hands.
Necessary on a practical level for the handling of the knife, this
cleansing of the hands of blood and visceral slime symbolically reflects
the cost of doing what is necessary. This act, especially through its
noticeable duration, implies that Tywin's larger goal will entail
repeated dirty acts, and -- crucially for long-running and narratively
complex television -- will involve not only the climactic act of
killing, but also its aftermath and repercussions. Fascinatingly, Dance
looks at his hands before and while he is wiping them, instead of, for
example, seeking more eye contact with his son. This suggests a sense of
self-knowledge and steely composure for the character, who is aware of
his actions and the costs they entail, and willing and able to face
these -- unlike Shakespeare's Lady Macbeth, he can deal with
regicide-related stains, knowing that they will wash off. Having wiped
his hands a second time, Dance's Tywin grasps Jamie's face with his left
hand: this is not a rare gesture of paternal closeness for this
character, but instead a tangible reminder that Jamie is, by deed and
association, also tainted and marked (he is the 'Kingslayer' after all),
and will have to get repeatedly and continually dirty too. (That it took
Dance [a couple of days to get the smell off his
hands](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEzpu4H9gGg&t=3m40s){target="_blank"}
only underlines the physical marking, not dissimilar to war paint, of
the son by the father here.)

[![C1](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/C1.png "C1"){.addCaption
.aligncenter loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="350"
height="196"}](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/C1.png)

They both know where that hand has been: Tywin marks Jamie.

What runs further through this symbolically charged scene is a reflexive
preoccupation with the notion of performance: Tywin and Jamie's talk is
flecked with references to reputation and image, and these are created
and sustained through enactment. Indeed, Tywin in so many words tells
Jamie and the viewer that the House of Lannister has its strength based
on repeated, continual performance -- it is because the Lannisters have
a fearsome reputation, and know how to use this reputation, that they
have power. This is both a strength (others act in accordance with the
fearsome Lannisters' goals) and a weakness (their power could begin to
crumble with a slip in the performance). With House Lannister thus
embodying the disciplinary power of performance (see Foucault 1977), the
discussion of matters pertaining to performance is delivered during and
through a performative act: the skinning of the deer. Possessing the
most acute recognition of the power and fragility of performance, Tywin
Lannister delivers an act of performance to his son (and any of the
surrounding Lannister bannermen that may need to enter the tent) that
can be understood as an animal sacrifice in a trajectory with the other
performative rituals (such as weddings and coronations) that a ruling
class such as the Lannisters must participate in in their quest for
power and endurance. Framed evocatively by the deep red curtains of the
tent, Tywin not only tells Jamie at the end of the scene that he needs
him to 'become the man you were always meant to be', but during the
course of the scene gives an embodied act of performance of this kind of
masculinity to his son.

[![D1](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/D1.png "D1"){.addCaption
.aligncenter loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="350"
height="196"}](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/D1.png)

The kind of man a Lannister needs to be: a performance of masculinity.

Clearly, it is imperative that Tywin delivers a successful and
convincing performance when skinning the deer, which in turn of course
relies on Charles Dance doing the same. It is here worth reflecting for
a moment on the fact that Dance has to manage what is a busy and
physically involving performance under challenging circumstances.
Receiving [training from a butcher for an hour prior to
filming](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qEzpu4H9gGg&t=3m40s){target="_blank"}
is not much rehearsal time for the required confident handling of a
knife and an animal carcass under visibly cold conditions that would
affect grip and movement. (The fact that Dance does not do any cutting
without taking his eyes off the carcass indicates the needed level of
concentration and attention.) It would be a challenge to remain
completely in character during this demanding, visceral, malodorous work
and an understandable instinctive human response to, for example, flinch
or wrinkle one's nose at the smell of the guts as they come out. Charles
Dance, however, does not slip, and this is crucial, for showing an
instinctive human response here would be breaking character for his
character, who performs being beyond such basic human concerns and
frailties to himself and his son.

[![E1](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/E1.png "E1"){.addCaption
.alignnone loading="lazy" decoding="async" width="350"
height="196"}](https://cstonline.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/E1.png)

Unflinching: neither character nor actor slip in their performance.

Just as the character needs to perform a sense of strength, skill and
physicality, so too does the actor here, to some extent. Whilst Charles
Dance was a fan favourite for the part of Tywin Lannister -- as Janet
Moat notes in
[*Screenonline*](http://www.screenonline.org.uk/people/id/523340/){target="_blank"},
he is 'often lazily cast as a villain', such as the ruthless lawyer
Tulkinghorn in *Bleak House* (BBC1, 2005) -- he was also roughly a
decade older than the character when cast, and did not exactly fit the
description offered in the source novels:

Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, was in
his middle fifties, yet hard as a man of twenty. Even seated, he was
tall, with long legs, broad shoulders, a flat stomach. His thin arms
were corded with muscle. (Martin 2003, 611)

Charles Dance manages to establish this imposing, commanding presence in
this scene through his mastery of the physically demanding performance
under difficult conditions. (Such are the demands of handling the
carcass that he gets audibly exerted roughly halfway through, but makes
his shortness of breath work for him by using it to punctuate his steely
vocal delivery when discussing the captivity of his other son, Tyrion,
and its potential consequences.) Dance (who did not attend drama school,
but took acting lessons) achieves this partly via the use of the
Psychological Gesture, a Chekhovian acting technique which calls for the
physical expression of the inner psychology of the character; their
emotions, objectives and thinking corporeally condensed into a specific
movement. With the knife and carcass here not passive, decorative props
but the materials through which Dance creates his performance, he finds
the core essence of the character through the physical act of skinning.
In *Game of Thrones: Inside the Episode*, executive producer and writer
D. B. Weiss has remarked that the repeated takes for this scene ['didn't
seem to faze
\[Dance\]'](http://www.hbo.com/video/video.html/?autoplay=true&vid=1184475&filter=game-of-thrones&view=null#/){target="_blank"}.
We want to suggest that, on the contrary, bodily gestures such as here
cutting and hacking 'allow actors to identify specific emotions more
clearly and to enter them in a quick and efficient way' (Bloch 1993,
131), helping Dance in this scene to access, draw on and deliver the
range of emotions (determination, anger, disapproval and frustration)
demanded by the scene.

The Psychological Gesture is rarely used in finished performance, but
here works beautifully to express the character 'in condensed physical
form' (Chamberlain 2010, 72). It also subtly serves as a portent of the
'butcher's bill' often referred to in the source material and gives
credence to Tywin Lannisters sobriquet, 'Butcher of Castamere'.
Incorporating what is primarily a pedagogical device into the very
fabric of his performance, Charles Dance in this scene tackles an
eagerly anticipated entrance of a complex character in a high-profile
television show, and utterly fails to disappoint.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gary Cassidy** is currently undertaking AHRC-funded doctoral research
at the University of Reading. His thesis explores the rehearsal process
of playwright Anthony Neilson, using filmed footage of rehearsals and
interviews. He trained as an actor at the Royal Scottish Academy of
Music and Drama and has thirteen years of acting experience -- Equity
name Cas Harkins -- covering film, theatre, television and radio. Plans
for future research focus on using his research methodology to explore
the working processes of other contemporary theatre practitioners.

**Simone Knox** is Lecturer in Film and Television at the University of
Reading. Her research interests include the transnationalisation of film
and television (including audio-visual translation), aesthetics and
medium specificity (including convergence culture), and representations
of the body. She sits on the board of editors for *Critical Studies in
Television* and her publications include essays in *Film Criticism*,
*Journal of Popular Film and Television* and *New Review of Film and
Television Studies*.

 

[\[1\]](#_ftnref1){#_ftn1} See also Keith M. Johnston's discussion in
[*CSTOnline*](https://cstonline.net/adaptation-and-interpretation-in-current-american-television-by-keith-m-johnston/){target="_blank"}
of how *Game of Thrones* 'departs from, and rewrites, its core texts,
often for reasons of budget, narrative coherence and performance.'


‘You Win or You Die’, the seventh episode from the first season of
<em>
 Game of Thrones
</em>
(HBO, 2011-present), contains a scene that has deservedly gathered attention and acclaim.

Postagens de Rogue Scholar

WHAT ACTORS DO: CHARLES DANCE IN GAME OF THRONES