James Norton was all-in on the House Of The Dragon finale

The actor breaks down his final appearance as Ormund Hightower and how he found his way into the character.

James Norton was all-in on the House Of The Dragon finale

James Norton is no stranger to playing chilling psychopaths—his portrayal of a violent criminal in the British thriller Happy Valley remains goosebump-inducing to this day. And yet, at the same time, Norton was leading Grantchester in the role of a delightfully empathetic vicar. The actor’s range is likely why House Of The Dragon‘s creator Ryan Condal pursued him to play the charming but cruel Ormund Hightower. 

In season three, Ormund—armed with his precious pomander, of course—tries to scheme his way into King’s Landing and the throne room via his ward/nephew, Daeron Targaryen (Benjamin Evan Ainsworth). As long as there are no awful smells, he’ll be just fine. But all of Ormund’s efforts are in vain during the finale, when he meets his maker in an unforgettable fashion—no one else in the Game Of Thrones universe can claim they died partly by a dagger shoved up their ass. 

Ormund Hightower may be gone, but Norton’s performance secures his place as House Of The Dragon‘s most captivating villain yet. The A.V. Club spoke to Norton about his “playful” final scene, his early conversations with Condal about the character, and whether or not Ormund’s death ranks up to Oberyn Martell’s in Game Of Thrones.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length. 

The A.V. Club: What was your immediate take upon reading how Ormund dies? Did it feel true to the character because as it’s happening, the smell of blood is about to make him throw up?

James Norton: It was an evolving piece. I knew, of course, that he was going to die and that they had the ambition around his death, in that they were going to go big and playful with it. But often what happens is the latter episode scripts come in later, so I knew more about the structure of it, but the intention and actual specifics were vague. I can’t remember what happened first in terms of script or stunts, because what this show is really, really good at is drilling you into the stunts. I’ve never been on a job where I had so many stunt rehearsals for one sequence. Ormund really didn’t have any apart from the big sequence with Tommy Flanagan at the end. But I went in, and I must have had seven or eight rehearsals. When I thought, “Oh, I’m done now, I’ve learned the thing,” they went, “See you in three days.”

In those sequences with Rowley Irlam, who’s our stunt coordinator, I remember he was so excited about this idea that he had had around impaling Ormund with a sword or a dagger. It was all drip-fed to me. But I knew from the beginning that it was ambitious and a fun, big swing. In terms of the plausibility, it’s quite naughty because it’s ludicrous, as a lot of Ormund is, but what we would often do with the show is you push it to this extreme where you go to the ridiculous and then you realize where that line is, and you pull it back. For example, at one point, Ormund was getting impaled 20 times. Tommy and I were thinking that’s probably too much, let’s go back to one impaling. So there were experiments of pushing it to an implausible place. 

For me, we’d established this crazy intolerance to smell and germs—he’s a proper germaphobe—and every time that particular trait came up, my job was just to play it as truthfully as possible, and that’s where the comedy is. It would have been ludicrous if I was trying to be funny. All I had to do was play this guy as if he has an allergy. So it’s a reflex for him. Then out of that came the narrative that did. 

AVC: It’s certainly memorable because he’s getting impaled by the dagger, a sword is being rammed into his backside, and there’s dragon fire. They wanted to make sure we knew that he was dying dying.

JN: He really is! And dying together with Tommy’s Roddy the Ruin, too. I thought that was lovely because Roddy’s desperate to die and Ormund is not at all desperate to die. We both get this strange couple, preserved-for-all-eternity-together type of death. There’s something intimate about it, which adds to the absurdity of the whole thing. 

AVC: When Ormund is knighting Daeron, did you want to make it seem like there are genuine tears in his eyes? Is that to convey he really does care for the guy, and isn’t just making a power play?

JN: One of the very first conversations I had with Ryan Condal early on, I remember we had coffee in London, and he said, “Listen, I’ve got this role, and I’d love for you to do it.” He talked about the smell thing, and I got the sense that he wanted Ormund to be big and eccentric and delicious. But one thing we both agreed on from the beginning is that the love between him and Daeron needs to be authentic, or the character will just be pantomime, and of a different world, and people will just roll their eyes and laugh. There won’t be any affection for him besides the ridicule. He’s a monster that needs to find some humanity, and that comes from Daeron.

So every time I would clasp him on the shoulders, tell him I was proud of him, tell him how worthy he was of being king despite his Targaryen blood, and listen to what he had learned, it was important to tap into something familiar and timeless with those scenes. It had to be like going home to your parents and telling them how you had a good day at school, or you’re pleased at what your teacher told you, or something. It had to feel domestic. So even in that knighting moment, it didn’t feel manipulative. Those tears were real. The love for Daeron is real. It was maybe harder for Ben [Evan Ainsworth] to play those because for me, Daeron is a sweet kid. He means well, he’s intelligent, he tries hard, even though he betrays Ormund at the end. But the love Ormund had for Daeron felt plausible. It was easy for me also because Ben is brilliant and intelligent, and it was easy to look into his big eyes and go, “I feel proud, and I love you.” The other way around is more complicated, where it’s more like Stockholm syndrome almost. Ormund’s his captor, and he has no other parents, and I’ve been his ward for his whole life, and so Daeron doesn’t know anything else.

AVC: There’s a scene where the camera pans on Ormund when Daeron and Gwayne are talking about his secret plan, and we see from their POV that Ormund angrily yells “Get away from me” to a soldier. Was that scripted or improv? I’m curious because he’d kept his temper tantrums hidden, so it signals how he’s falling apart.

JN: Those beats are nodded to in stage direction, and then they become something based on that, but I don’t think it was specifically scripted. I definitely didn’t have a line, for example. It had something along the lines of Ormund is losing his shit. So then you’re given this by the writing and direction to find something that will convey his piece of the story. Obviously, the dialogue is happening between Gwayne and Daeron, whereas Ormund is focusing on strategy and survival at that moment. And you’re right, it’s a moment that’s not meant to be observed, particularly by Daeron. They’ve both seen him lose his shit so many times, but it’s a very public space for it to happen. It’s important because it goes to show how things are beginning to unravel for him. There’s a private version of Ormund and a public one, and certainly on the top of the battlements there, I think he would have much rather kept the facade of control. It’s similar to the moment where he snatches the boys and tells the soldiers to make the children visible and to put them at the very front. There’s a shamelessness to Ormund where he puts aside any morality to use children as human shields. It really does go to show how monstrous he is. 

AVC: There isn’t much personality to Ormund in Fire & Blood, so what was your experience like working with Ryan to develop his eccentric personality, and how was it different from other psychopaths you’ve played, like in Happy Valley

JN: Yeah, I’ve played villains before, even the big, ludicrous kind, but what separated Ormund from them was that he loved being himself. There’s a darkness to him, but it doesn’t define him. What does define him is a swagger and a relish. He’s so convinced of his superiority. There’s the hatred of the Targaryens and the blood that exists in Daeron, his fanaticism and his view of the Seven. So there’s darkness and cruelty. But I realized what I needed to do was enjoy playing him, both me as the actor, but also as the character. Ormund is a pig in shit throughout this. He loves being the boss. He loves lying in the bath, and people coming up to him. He’s not been the Lord of Oldtown forever. He’s relatively recently become a leader, a kingpin, or a top dog. So it’s gone to his head, and that’s really fun to play. So many villains are often defined by their self-doubt and twisted thoughts, but Ormund is kind of the opposite. 

AVC: I read that you haven’t seen all of Game Of Thrones yet, so at least in terms of House Of The Dragon, where would you rank Ormund’s death and the way it happens?

JN: What’s nice is I’ve still got bits to catch up on, but with House Of The Dragon, Jace obviously had the big one this season, didn’t he? I remember seeing some of the videos of people watching it and reacting to it, which was extraordinary. It was so moving. The difference is that people will watch Ormund’s death and have fun with it. This show bookended season three with those two deaths. Jace in that first battle and Ormund in this one. It really represents how heartbreaking this show can be because it’s about family and the relationship between parents and kids, and it’s stuff we can all tap into. Then there’s this other element, and I love that both can co-exist on House Of The Dragon, it’s what makes the show so special. This other death is almost quite camp. Pantomime is too strong a word, but it’s still theatrical and playful. It’s less moving and more entertaining. It’s interesting to compare the two and see how ambitious the show is in terms of pushing its tone. I actually haven’t seen episode eight just yet, but obviously, I remember shooting it. But someone earlier did say that it ranks up with Pedro Pascal’s death in Game Of Thrones.

AVC: Your character in general reminded me of Pascal’s Oberyn Martell and the fresh energy he brought to the show. 

JN: Oh, that’s awesome. 

Saloni Gajjar is The A.V. Club‘s TV critic.

 
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