Sorry I didn't make it to the wedding...

**DATED SPOILERS HEREIN**

I was late to the Game of Thrones party, and now it turns out I’ll be leaving early. And not only shall I never catch up to where the show is currently, but I didn’t even get to the series’ infamous defining moment: the Red Wedding of two years ago (I’m stopping at season three’s sixth episode “The Climb,” three shy of the bloodbath).

My reasons have nothing to do with recent developments on the show. And lest anyone think my decision is in any way out of squeamishness toward its content, I’ll say that my all-time favorite TV drama is HBO’s sadly departed Deadwood, whose guttermouthed dialogue was nearly the spoken equivalent of hardcore pornography (seriously, check out the show, but make sure your kids, your parents, your wife, your husband, or anyone else isn’t in the same room). I’ve also been a fan of some of the network’s other very R-rated shows like The Sopranos, The Wire, Oz, and Eastbound and Down.

I'm tuning out because my brain actually tuned out sometime after the Battle of the Blackwater in season two. Since then, I’ve been watching like it’s a chore, trying to convince myself it’s compelling. Finally, I quit lying to myself and admitted I was bored. No matter how impressively detailed and complex the plot may be or how great its production values (and they were as good as any big budget epic film), it’s for nothing if you don’t care about the characters. And I don't.

The joke about not getting too attached to the characters has been made a million times, but it was in all seriousness never a problem for me. The only things they do are plot and backstab, plot revenge, or get victimized (oh, and have sex, of course). Most of them only have one of these notes to their personality and no more, making who’s good and bad irrelevant because they’re all equally boring. The lone exception is Tyrion Lannister, who Peter Dinklage imbues with a rooting drive for purpose, a rare heart amongst such brutality, and great wit. Or at least he did, for even Tyrion goes flat and appears comparatively less in the third season than before.

Even if I did stick with it until the nasty nuptials, it wouldn’t have been the first time I saw the Red Wedding. Out of curiosity as to why the Internet was so upset, I watched it on YouTube shortly after it first aired, without knowing any of the characters or the context of the event. And to be fair, yes, knowing ahead of time did influence my decision to opt out. I may not have cared about the Starks any more than the rest of the characters, but they were, it appears, the “good guys” in the show. So why continue watching something when all that’s left are the least pleasant players? Although, if a villain is charismatic and compelling to the point that you kind of start to like them, I might still watch a show. But the Lannisters, like all the characters, were not (well, maybe Charles Dance, at times).

I will say this much about the show’s sex and violence: The Sopranos was at one point rebroadcast on basic cable network A&E, albeit with the bloodier scenes and nudity cut out and the swearing dubbed over. Despite some stilted mouth movements, the show still worked, as there was enough substance behind the series' HBO-ness. It’s hard to imagine being able to do the same with Game of Thrones, but if they did, you know what’d be left? The Star Wars prequels! Seriously, all it would be is just endless talking and plotting and politics. It’s more complex and better written than George Lucas’ efforts, maybe, but it'd be just as tedious if not for all the gore and titillation. With it, it’s no deeper than any big, dumb, violent special effects blockbuster movie, just stretched out longer and more explicit.

So, enjoy the rest of show’s run, fans, and the books whenever George R.R. Martin manages to finish them. I hope in the end, Daenerys (Emilia Clarke) and Arya (Maisie Williams) team up to lay waste to Westeros and set up a utopian matriarchal kingdom in its wake, if only to somewhat level off the plight of the show's female characters. But I won't be watching, so I care not what happens.

Mad Max: Fury Road

With its spectacular car chases and bleak, grungy vision of the future that still influences sci-fi to this day, the Mad Max series still holds up very well after three decades. Or at least it did; after the long-gestating fourth installment Fury Road, I’m not so sure it will anymore. The film is the maddest Mad Max of them all, taking the series and its vehicular theatrics to a level so high the old movies seem like a Sunday drive by comparison. In fact, it’s not too much of a stretch to wonder if it renders the entire action genre prior to this point obsolete.

There are shootouts on top of brutal hand-to-hand combat on top of car chases (literally, on top of car chases). Souped-up death machines and motorcycles brave daredevil jumps while chucking explosives and exchanging gunfire, or just regular fire. One vehicle has several amplifiers attached while a passenger shreds on a guitar in place of drums of war, which makes absolutely no practical sense but is totally appropriate nonetheless amidst the chaos (and of course, said instrument later becomes a weapon). Explosions and crashes abound like a freeway pileup at a Fourth of July fireworks show. And yet, every sequence is imaginatively designed and choreographed within an inch of its life, with incredible stunts that leave the viewer with an awed appreciation, as opposed to a mocking disbelief.

Even when the mayhem subsides for a few brief instances, the film has the relentless tone and energy of an action sequence in every department. Comic relief? It’s as blunt as a punch in the gut and all the more effective for it. What about the tortured backstory of the title hero? Instead of slow and thoughtful moments, the picture cuts deep with intense, haunting visions that would be as at home in a horror movie. Even the very plot itself—in which loner Max (Tom Hardy, taking over the role from Mel Gibson) helps convoy driver Furiosa (Charlize Theron) and the enslaved “wives” of warlord Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne) escape him and his minions across the post-apocalyptic Australian desert—is obviously built around the long, elaborate car chase battles, as were the plots of the preceding films.

It would be easy to simply write off the entire thing (and the whole series, for that matter) as empty, flashy popcorn violence, but doing so would be wrong, and vastly unfair to series writer-director George Miller and company. From the very first Mad Max, the main selling point was the automotive havoc, but Miller also infused the narratives with creative ideas about the breakdown of society and the dark future the movies presented. Some of them were funny, some just interestingly out-there, some even tragically sad. Most of these little tidbits were only established understatedly, through dialogue or quick views in the background, but that made them no less clever or interesting.

Despite packing Fury Road to the gills with vehicular destruction, Miller still establishes his pulpiest, most detailed future vision yet in the series, a disturbing cultish world with inventive traits too good to spoil. And though the movie never really slows enough for some introspective moments, it manages to feature character arcs with pathos within its action sequences. All the main characters have some depth: Nicholas Hoult as a doomed cult member, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Riley Keough, Zoë Kravitz, Courtney Eaton, and Abbey Lee as the five “wives,” and especially Theron, who’s Max’s action hero equal in every way. And in the title role, Tom Hardy doesn’t even need to speak to sell us, so convincing is his mere presence and body language. He might even best Mel Gibson, as while Gibson exuded a smarmy cynicism in the role, Hardy’s surly stoicism is arguably more affecting.

The picture establishes the storyline so that it works as both a sequel for old fans and a starting point for new ones, and both parties will enjoy it equally. It’s a thrilling, wall-to-wall raging piece of entertainment that’s going to be hard for any action blockbuster this summer (or any summer) to top.

Avengers: Age of Ultron

I think it's safe to say the superhero genre is reaching critical mass. Not only is the cinema docket saturated with superheroes (and looks to be that way for years to come), but now individual movies appear to be packing in as many heroes as they can. As if the initial Avenger lineup wasn’t enough already, Age of Ultron adds several new faces to the mix while expanding on the stories of the returning players. And remarkably, the film pulls it off at least as well as the first Avengers, maybe even better. It’s an entry that succeeds in both the macro and the micro, continuing Captain America: The Winter Soldier’s work of clearing the way for a new phase of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, while also working solidly as a standalone picture.

With the world still reeling from the events of Winter Soldier, the film opens with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes raiding a leftover Hydra/S.H.I.E.L.D. compound to retrieve a powerful amulet left over from the Battle of New York three years prior. Iron Man Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Hulk alter-ego Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) attempt to harness that power to initiate their secret project: Ultron (James Spader), a peacekeeping artificial intelligence program. Unfortunately, the new program breaks free, and its definition of a peaceful world is one without humans. So it’s up to the Avengers to stop him, as well as face two new Hydra-engineered enemies: super-speedster Quicksilver (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and psychic Scarlett Witch (Elizabeth Olsen).

The picture brings back everything we loved about the first Avengers, turned up a notch or two. The action and special effects are bigger, more intense, and frankly crazier (the street fight between the Hulk and Iron Man’s Hulkbuster armor may be the best Hulk fight on the big screen so far). Also back is its sense of humor. For a film based on such a dark comic arc and advertised as being so dark, it might be the funniest Marvel movie. More than just keeping the expository scenes going, the comedy also meshes well with some dramatic parts and complements the action scenes, especially the near-slow-mo ones involving Quicksilver. And when it appears Ultron is going to be one of those cold, stoic philosophizing villains, Spader turns on the smarm and attitude to great effect. It almost hurts his standing as the bad guy because it’s so much fun when he’s onscreen.

But for all the elements that make it a fun summer blockbuster, it’s the slower, smaller scenes, the ones that instill these characters with humanity, where the film shines. Namely, all the characters without their own individual franchise get a moment to evolve. We finally learn a little more about Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) and Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson), and that they’re not just emotionless killers. Even better is Banner’s subplot, as his surprisingly sad and moving struggle to control the monster inside him is easily the strongest Hulk story yet (between this and the aforementioned fight with Iron Man, I think it’s safe to say another Hulk film might finally be warranted). And the visions put into the team’s heads by Scarlett Witch, exposing each one’s fears and desires, are a nice, dark touch.

I really enjoyed Age of Ultron, but I’m not sure how well it bodes for Marvel going forward. It succeeds only a hair away from failure; it’s one character cameo away from overload, one convenient save-the-day moment away from losing all tension, one impossible stunt away from crossing the line into sheer ridiculousness. The movie manages to shoulder the whole load but leaves so little room for error, or much else.

I can see why they cut the next Avengers in two.