The Witcher

Review: John Winterson Richards

The definite leader of the pack in the race to be the next Game of Thrones is the Netflix series The Witcher. It is already a full grown "multimedia franchise," with video games and graphic novels, as well as a 2001 Polish film and a previous television series spun off it that everyone wants to forget, all based on the original novels and short stories written in Polish.

Yet in many ways, the Game of Thrones comparison does The Witcher a disservice. It does not aspire to the political and social sophistication, or the intricate world building, that made Game of Thrones acceptable to people who normally look down on the fantasy genre.

On the contrary, in form and content The Witcher is curiously old fashioned. All the basic elements will be familiar to anyone who spent too much time reading fantasy novels when he was meant to be reading Law at University. So we have the standard Conan-esque hero, a big man with a big sword, wandering about imaginary realms looking for trouble. We have wizards and witches and monsters. We have a girl in distress - but, this being the post-Xena generation, we also have the strong Warrior Queen, the equal to any man, etc.

Neither is it accurate to say that The Witcher is a more "adult" version of 'Lord of the Rings.' Or at least anyone saying it cannot be familiar with the Tolkien novels or the Jackson films, which are masterpieces of structure and texture, both departments in which this television series is relatively weak. Moreover, the nudity, soft core sex, and bad language is not really "adult" but aimed squarely at the target demographic of teenage males.

What we really have here is a sequence of Robert E Howard type pulp tales set in a mostly Medieval, or rather Renaissance Fair, milieu. There is little that is of great originality. There are some interesting hints of Welsh mythology, and apparently Central European folk legends, but not really a fully realised universe, at least not in the television version. This is not surprising, for this version is reportedly based - so far - on short story collections rather than on the main cycle of novels which may offer a more cohesive structure and which will probably come later.

This short story background may also help to explain the eccentric decision for the narrative to jump back and forth between different time periods. There are basically three main storylines set at different periods with minor episodes in between. It is not too hard to keep track of them, but only if you pay really close attention. It does not help that some characters are portrayed as barely ageing. In certain cases this can be put down to magic or whatever, even if one sometimes suspects that saving on the make-up was a factor in others.

There is some clever CGI, especially in epic battle scenes, and some pretty location work, in Hungary, Austria, Poland, and the Canary Islands, but, frankly, nothing really jaw dropping as there was in Game of Thrones or Vikings.

So far, so mediocre... Which begs the question: why was it one of the most viewed series of the year on Netflix? And why, being absolutely honest, did your cynical reviewer find it such a guilty pleasure?

Much of the appeal is due to the casting of Henry Cavill as Geralt of Rivia, the "Witcher" of the title, a magically enhanced monster killer. Although usually cast in "beefcake" roles - as he is here - Cavill is actually a rather good actor with the right material. The script of The Witcher gives him that, but not in the traditional way: he has very little dialogue, and most of this seems to consist of grunts and the occasional swearword. So he has the opportunity to convey a lot by his intonation and expression alone, the sort of challenge in which all true actors delight.

He rises to the occasion quite magnificently. One of his grunts is worth a thousand words and the relatively few words he does speak are delivered with exquisite timing. As a result, the stereotypical Laconic hero is gradually revealed as a far more complex and sympathetic personality than he might at first have appeared to be. There is much about him that is not likeable: he is totally ruthless, not least in his attitude to animals, both mythological and natural. However, it soon becomes clear that he is trying to suppress a compassionate side that is, like all strong emotions, all the more powerful for being suppressed.

This does not get in the way of him being a superb fighter and the scenes where he really cuts loose are a martial arts delight. Fight arrangement on television is a discipline which has seen a revolution in standards over the last two to three decades, due in large part to the incorporation of techniques from China, Japan, Thailand, Indonesia, and Brazil. With some rare exceptions, what came before now looks almost laughable in comparison. The Witcher is a beneficiary of this, and also, it seems, of the practical research into Medieval and Renaissance combat that has also advanced a lot in recent years. So, apart from anything else, Cavill at least knows how to hold a sword, and he and his trainers have developed a fighting style that makes the most of his size as he charges forward aggressively like an All Blacks flanker. It is a pleasure to watch and gives the impression that he is one of the few actors who looks as if he could handle himself in a real swordfight.

Yet it is not just about Geralt. Anya Chalotra, as Yennefer, an oddly attractive hunchback who becomes an extremely attractive sorceress, is another who finds sympathy in a character who might otherwise have been unsympathetic. At least we understand Yennefer's selfish cynicism when we see how she has been used and abused by practically everyone close to her, including her family, her lover, and her mentor.

Joey Batey makes a strong impression as Jaskier, an irritating but entertaining bard who latches on to Geralt. He gives sound advice to Geralt about the value of investing in public relations, and the power of a catchy song to that end. The song in question is indeed very catchy. Try getting it out of your head once you have heard it: "Toss a coin to your Witcher, O Valley of Plenty; Toss a coin to your Witcher, a friend of Humanity..."

The point is that Jaskier really is a very bad poet, but the song succeeds in its objective of rebranding Geralt. Apart from anything else, it apparently reached Number 9 in the Hungarian popular music charts.

One suspects that the producers spent so much on Cavill that there was not much left in the budget for the supporting cast. Nevertheless a few familiar faces do turn up. Jodhi May ditched her frail upper class girl image completely as the Warrior Queen Calanthe, a character about whom we never quite make up our minds: at first it seems we are meant to admire her as a tough female leader in a man's world but it gradually becomes more apparent that she may also be a genocidal maniac. Icelandic actor Bjorn Hlynur Haraldsson, from Fortitude, is her more amiable husband.

MyAnna Buring plays Yennefer's hard faced mentor, another character who keeps us guessing. Lars Mikkelsen, the talented Danish actor best known to English speaking viewers as the suspicious looking Mayoral candidate in The Killing, and as the real life brother of Bond villain Mads, is a very political Mage. Adam Levy is a Druid, which is, we are told, not at all the same thing as a Mage. Julian Rhind-Tutt is a sort of wizardly gynaecologist who really ought to be struck off: a scene in which he performs an "operation" is quite unwatchable.

Ron Cook, one of those fine actors who deserves to be better known, brings emotional depth to a guest role as a dragon hunter with a big secret: we get to care about him a lot in a little time. Anna-Louise Plowman also plays a character so likeable that we hope her likeability does not get her killed. It is always a pleasure to see Josette Simon from Blake's 7, even if her involvement here does not really go anywhere.

Whether the series as a whole goes anywhere remains to be seen. The first season has served as little more than as an introduction to the main characters and their world. Most of Geralt's adventures have so far been freestanding episodes, indicative of their short story origin, running in parallel with a more epic storyline of the fall of Kingdoms in which he has so far played no more than a walk on part. It is surely no spoiler to sat that the season seems to end at the very point the two finally coincide irrevocably.

At the time of writing, a second season has been filmed but delayed by the coronavirus, so there is currently no broadcast date. Without having read the novels, one can only speculate, but it is a safe bet that we are now in the main narrative thread at last and the show is less likely to jump around than it has. It also looks like we are looking at the traditional "Lost Princess" trope, as seen in The Hidden Fortress and Star Wars. Of course, if The Witcher really was the next Game of Thrones, it would take this opportunity to subvert our expectations completely.

In the meantime, if one can sum up a work in progress at this stage, 'intriguing" is the word that comes to mind. There is a lot of potential here. Cavill has proved he can hold an ongoing series together as a leading man. Chalotra has shown great potential, and it would be good to see more of Batey - even if it is not clear that he is still around in what is now the "current" time period. The slightly different Central European take on things gives the show a bit of flavour. Yet we have all been here before in the early days of a new series only to be disappointed later - we can only hope that it is not the next Game of Thrones in that sense.

Season Two

It is fair to say that the second season of The Witcher was anticipated very keenly. The clear frontrunner among the contenders to be the next Game of Thrones - in the good sense - its first season was received positively by both critics and viewers, even if their approval was by no means unqualified. It was felt at least that there was potential here and expectations for the second were high. Public anticipation was built by production delays caused by the coronavirus and by on set injuries sustained by star Henry Cavill. Given that viewers had to wait two years for the final product, it was perhaps predictable that some felt slightly disappointed when it finally emerged, even if reviewers praised it for addressing some of their concerns about the first.

The way the timeline had jumped around in Season One was considered a distraction by many, and there was a widespread feeling that more effort should have been put into "world building." Whether the writers listened to the criticism, or whether the previous problems were structural, due to the first season being based on several short stories rather than a novel, only the writers can say. Either way, the new season, apparently based for the most part on a single novel, presents us with a cohesive story in a straight linear time period, apart from a few clearly demarcated flashbacks, and there is no shortage of exposition. Indeed, the writers may have gone to the other extreme, so that there now is too much exposition. Even the previously Laconic Geralt of Rivia himself has become quite chatty.

This is not the only alteration to his persona. Season One established him very much as a lone wolf. It turns out that he is in fact a member of a very tight knit brotherhood of genetically mutated Witchers who are based at a ruined castle which basically functions as their frat house. The whole notion of Witchers supposedly being unemotional seems to have been abandoned, even if it is still referenced in the dialogue. A softer side to Geralt is revealed, not only with his old friends and his father figure but also with his surrogate daughter Ciri, his past lover Yennefer, his hanger on Jaskier, his beloved horse Roach, and an aristocrat for whom he once did a favour. While all this makes him far more sympathetic, something has been lost: the point is that his moments of rough compassion in Season One were meaningful precisely because they were not normal for him.

In Season Two he becomes more of a family man, even if it seems a pretty dysfunctional family. We also have a kinder, gentler Yennefer. In her case, it is good character development because it builds on what has gone before, especially her desire for a child. She is not the only one who seems to be in shock after Sodden Hill. Her fellow Mage, Triss Merigold, bears her scars inside and out. Even their flinty mentor Tissaia, appears a bit more human. It is, however, Ciri who has changed most. The confused and helpless girl is turning into a more confident young woman. At the same time she is still trying to come to terms with what happened to her and with her frightening powers.

The overused "Chosen One" trope can in fact be quite irritating. It is therefore greatly to the credit of Allan and the writers that she retains her humanity and vulnerability. Terrified of her gifts, she sets out to prove herself as a Witcher. She attempts a fearsome looking obstacle course, and fails - and tries again - and again. She begins to win the respect of hardened Witchers who were initially inclined to mock her efforts. She makes mistakes as she goes on, sometimes bad ones with serious consequences, but this makes her a fallible Chosen One - and therefore more likeable than the basic facts about her might suggest.

A sense of continuity is established with a number of guest appearance by characters from the first season. This is balanced by the introduction of some new characters, most notably Geralt's old mentor Vesemir, played by the Danish actor Kim Bodnia. The other Witchers are an engaging bunch, if slightly generic. Simon Callow and Liz Carr are fun as a pair of literary detectives. Graham McTavish, by far the best thing about Outlander, is perfectly cast as a powerful spymaster.

The second season is aesthetically superior to the first, partly because the CGI has improved but mainly because there is a greater consistency. The events all seem to be set in Winter in the North, which gives the look of the project a more distinctive style. Some of the snowy scenes are quite beautiful in a Christmas card sort of way, especially those in the superbly constructed Witcher castle of Kaer Morhen.

The main storyline of the season is not especially interesting. There are no epic battles or set pieces. The real purpose of Season Two is character development and in this respect it does what it was paid to do. It sets up a more mature Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri as a new family ready for Season Three.

Family is the great theme in this season. As well as bringing together the central trio at last, it delves into Ciri's original family background. We also see other family substitutes: the Witchers are a brotherhood bound together by a harsh upbringing; the Magi are a house divided; and the antagonists are a fanatical religious cult. If the second season is less memorable than the first, this is only to be expected because it has lost the impact of originality. It more than makes up for it by settling into a definite story in a distinctive world with characters who are beginning to grow as events unfold. It is not the greatest piece of television but we are left comfortable with the situation and interested to know what happens next.

Season Three

The negative fan reaction to Cavill's departure, and the reasons for it, make investment in further large-scale production a bad commercial proposition. Netflix is committed to continue but expect reduced budgets and a desperate eagerness to grab any pretext to get out of that commitment. The show, which started with such high hopes, mainly thanks to Cavill's involvement, has in any case been in poor shape for some time now. While we should be careful about internet gossip, including what look like deliberately planted hit pieces against Cavill, it seems well-established that he fell out with the producers and writers over the storyline. It was because he was a fan of The Witcher novels and video games that he worked hard to get the role in the first place. He was therefore disappointed that the storyline did not stick closer to the source material. Whether or not greater fidelity to the novels is the solution, which may be debatable, Cavill is definitely in the right about there being a big problem with the storytelling in the Netflix adaptation.

It is difficult to separate legitimate criticism of the scripting from generalised anger at the way Cavill was treated in the fans' rejection of Season Three. Whatever the reason, a lot of people set out determined to hate Season Three and this is reflected in much of the online comment. That is unfair. This overview, therefore, represents an attempt at a more even-handed analysis.

For the worst thing about Season Three is that one can see how close it came to greatness. Indeed, the most frustrating, and depressing aspect of the show since its beginning is that it could really have been something special. In Season Three a lot of work in progress finally came together, especially on the technical and visual side, and it started strongly in narrative terms too, with our three heroes united at last and off to meet their Destiny together.

Before getting into the detail of the ongoing script problems, the Season, and the project as a whole, deserves to be celebrated for what it did well.

Top of the list, to the very end, is the leading performance. Cavill has always been the best thing about The Witcher. He was ideally cast and it is a tribute to his professionalism that, whatever his reservations about what he was asked to do, and what must have been an uncomfortable atmosphere on set, his commitment to the role remains undiminished on screen. He is, of course, at his best when he really cuts loose with a sword and he gets to do that several times this season. Yet these are also the saddest scenes because they remind the viewer how much he will be missed. Cavill is Geralt of Rivia and no one else ever can be now.

Yet, much as some fans try to deny this, The Witcher was always more than the Henry Cavill show. The real strength of the concept was the triangle between Geralt, his occasional lover Yennefer, and their surrogate daughter Ciri. While the eponymous Witcher is obviously the most important of the three, this should not detract from the superb, multilayered performances of Anya Chalotra and Freya Allan.

Yennefer has had the most interesting character arc. It is a credible journey, made more credible by Chalotra pitching it just right at every stage. Ciri could be an overpowered brat, a type all too common in film and television these days, but she manages to retain our sympathy. Allan pulls off a precarious balancing act, invoking our pity for a vulnerable child without sugarcoating the teenager's essential selfishness. She gets almost an entire episode devoted to her inner journey, symbolically and literally in a desert, and Allan really makes the most of the opportunity to showcase her growing talent. It is not her fault that the episode is poorly paced and in the wrong place in the season.

Most of the supporting cast are also very good. It was annoying that the intriguing characters of Rectrix Tissaia and Rector Stregobor were rather thrown away after being built up so that we expected something more significant from them. Graham McTavish and Cassie Clare make a good double act as a devious spymaster and a mage with owl tendencies, but their subplot is a distraction. Mahesh Jadu enjoys himself going Full Villain as Vilgefortz.

Jaskier the Bard (Joey Batey) is given more agency, which may be a mistake. He works well as a supporting character, especially in his interplay with Geralt and Yennefer, but he does not really hold up when the spotlight is on him. He is at his best as comic relief.

After a very uncertain start in its first season, the show finally found its distinctive, and quite spectacular, visual style in the third. At its best the cinematography is cinematic. Its understanding of the use of colour should be studied more widely. The locations are well chosen, and both exteriors and interiors are wonderfully atmospheric. The desert scenes with Ciri are particularly stunning, but the detail in some of the more intimate scenes shows that the design departments feel a real commitment to their work. The set dressing deserves a special commendation, as do the costumes and the props.

There are, however, a few jarring scenes that irritate precisely because they disrupt the suspension of disbelief that has been so firmly established. Some of the CGI is too obviously CGI, and a pivotal scene combines this with some truly amateurish backdrop work.

The fight choreography is of a consistently high standard, and it is not the fault of the actors or the choreographers that the writers and directors rely too much on busy MCU-type extended action scenes, full of sound and fury signifying very little.

This returns us to the basic problem, the structure of the script. The first episode of Season Three finally got us to where we really should have been back in Season One, the classic Lost Princess narrative. Ciri speaks for the whole audience towards the end of the episode when she tells Geralt and Yennefer that she hopes they will stay together. They promptly split - distracted by a series of what gamers call "side quests." At the same time, the writers try to distract the audience with a series of subplots based on either politicking or the supernatural elements of the story. The first four seasons of Game of Thrones proved that this can be compelling. Here it is not.

This is where The Witcher pays the price for not investing more in world-building in its first season. The politics has always been a background issue and we have no emotional stake in it. Our only real concern is for Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri, not necessarily in that order.

It does not help that, if one can be bothered to think about it seriously, most of the political manoeuvring makes little sense. An episode with a splendid ball that might have made the intrigue intriguing is wasted as the writers relapse into their annoying Season One time jump habit. The next episode gives us the MCU finale two episodes early. Characters keep turning up dramatically with no explanation. Motivation is generally ignored. The supposed Big Twist was clearly visible from Season One. Where we were half expecting Cavill to be given an epic exit, he spends most of his last two episodes on his back. A final gratuitous swordfight serves no purpose except to remind us what we are going to miss. In the end, Geralt just kills a few people needlessly and then wanders off - which seems an appropriate metaphor for the whole Season.