Anytime someone asked if I was watching Game of Thrones, I explained that it wasn’t my kind of show. They always had the same reaction: “What????? It’s a great show! How can you not watch it? It makes no sense!”
From there, I’d explain that the whole dragon/sword/forest era was never really my thing — dating back to the 1980s, when the Dungeons and Dragons kids took it to a pretty creepy place — and somewhere along the line, I decided that I just didn’t enjoy voyaging into the forest. For any reason. If I could hold out on Lord of the Rings, then I could hold out on Game of Thrones. What changed? On the day after Season 2’s epic “Blackwater” episode aired, I happened to be in Grantland’s office as everyone was breathlessly rehashing it. At one point, Hollywood Prospectus editor Mark Lisanti glanced over to me and said, “I can’t believe you don’t watch this show.”
I knew that disappointed, semi-incredulous look — it’s the same one I direct at my father every time he admits that he hasn’t started Mad Men yet (even though I bought him the Season 1 DVD two years ago). What are you doing? I thought you liked TV. This makes no sense! That night on the phone, my buddy House agreed with Lisanti’s disbelief and added, “Just so you know, that show has a ton of nudity.” Well then! I started watching that weekend and the rest was history.