Given how rarely I post (give or take once a month), I shouldn’t stumble into the same subject matter twice. I certainly must not follow up on the same thing. But yet it has come to that. Today things must start with Game Of Thrones. But this is not a post about HBO’s remarkable show. Today’s topic: the deaths of characters I remember in the past ten or so years of television.
(warning: major spoilers for certain major shows follow).
Ned Stark is dead. This is the genesis of the topic. In episode 9 of Game of Thrones the lord of Winterfell meets the business end of an executioner’s blade. It’s an ending rich with symbolism and looming catastrophe - as someone at Time.com commented, it’s going to unleash all kinds of chaos. But personally I found something more significant in the event: I did not want to believe it. I was convinced that the dramatic way the episode ended gave room for a last-minute swoop-in, seen at the start of the next episode. But it is not to be - those familiar with the books have confirmed that this indeed happens.
Yet I am not disappointed or distraught. I am sad, which is good. This contrasts sharply to when Treme killed off Creighton Bernette, played by John Goodman. Both him and Sean Bean (who portrayed Ned Stark) sit close to me as actors: I enjoy their work and underdog status. Both characters meant a lot to me in their shows and both were suddenly and violently yanked from the show. In Treme Creighton commits suicide, the climax of an eerie episode where you can see signs of him heading towards it (being particularly affectionate with his family that morning, for example). But you refuse to believe it and when it became real in the final episode of season one (where he is indeed confirmed as dead), it killed the show for me.
Yet while Ned Stark’s death leaves me a bit depressed, I am more rattled by the sheer consequences of the action. You will be missed Sean/Ned, but your death will mean everything.
That is the sign of a good show that maintains a sense of the bigger picture. When Creighton Bernette died, it left Treme hollow. The show was already a dull affair, kept afloat mainly by good music and nice dialog. The most of the characters were not interesting and when Creighton, arguably the best of the lot, exited the stage, a lot of Treme’s charisma went with him.
Treme isn’t bad - just undercooked. It lacks a bigger purpose for its drama. It’s a misstep for David Simon, but we can thank his previous series for another memorably dramatic and catastrophic death. Oh, many characters died in The Wire. I could pick several big departures: Omar Little and Stringer Bell are the lead contenders. But it was Bodie, man, gunned down point-blank in the street. This gangster character had resiliently navigated the dangerous world of street and drug politics for four seasons, but eventually his fate caught up with him, surprising everyone (but we all should have seen it coming). It was enough to send McNulty (perhaps The Wire’s one truly immortal character), into a downward spiral again. It was sad, but necessary.
Many other shows have used the death of a major character to good effect, though nearly always with different motivations. In Seinfeld, that crown prince of sitcom history, George Costanza got out of an engagement with Susan Ross when she died after licking toxic glue on wedding invitation envelopes. It was an ironic end to a major story arc in this left-of-field comedy and suited the series perfectly. It would also continue to haunt George in some form (culminating to a tremendous episode involving his late fiance's parents and a George-style bluff that he has a house by the sea). George and Susan were never going to be married - it would have ruined the Seinfeld formula. But anything other than death would have been a lowering of the show’s values.
Dexter did a similar thing. This moribund comedy (pun intended) about a serial killer trying to maintain his dark dealings while pretending to be normal, had a similar problem with Dexter Morgan’s long-time girlfriend, Rita. Dexter as a character can’t grow with Rita around - not after four seasons. But here her end was part of the theme: you can’t have your cake and eat it. Rita dies at the hands of Trinity, the serial killer that Dexter went after, so her death is the consequence of his actions. Sadly all this drama was squandered with the appalling fifth season, but there is still hope...
Even The Simpsons went there, killing Maude Flanders (indirectly due to Homer, but the man is an accident waiting to happen and happen again) and freeing up some writing space for Ned Flanders’ character. Deadwood took an interesting stab at jolting the relationship between Seth Bullock and his wife when a horse killed her young son, shifting the motivations for her character being in the town. The show would later rub out Ellsworth and who can forget Swearengen smothering the tumor-afflicted preacher.
Good deaths in television are about a function: removing a stumbling block or opening up opportunities. In the rare occasion it lights a fuse under a massive heap of gunpowder. And I’ll forever miss those characters, but treasure their sacrifice - as long as the writers don’t mess it up. Game Of Thrones went even further: it killed of what many saw as the main character, the Tony Soprano of the series. Fortunately it is sitting on more gunpowder than China.
Addendum: This article never mentions LOST, despite such departures as that of Charlie. But season six was the equivalent of your ex setting fire to your suits. We don’t talk about LOST anymore.
(warning: major spoilers for certain major shows follow).
Ned Stark is dead. This is the genesis of the topic. In episode 9 of Game of Thrones the lord of Winterfell meets the business end of an executioner’s blade. It’s an ending rich with symbolism and looming catastrophe - as someone at Time.com commented, it’s going to unleash all kinds of chaos. But personally I found something more significant in the event: I did not want to believe it. I was convinced that the dramatic way the episode ended gave room for a last-minute swoop-in, seen at the start of the next episode. But it is not to be - those familiar with the books have confirmed that this indeed happens.
![]() |
| When Creighton took a dive, so did Treme... |
Yet while Ned Stark’s death leaves me a bit depressed, I am more rattled by the sheer consequences of the action. You will be missed Sean/Ned, but your death will mean everything.
That is the sign of a good show that maintains a sense of the bigger picture. When Creighton Bernette died, it left Treme hollow. The show was already a dull affair, kept afloat mainly by good music and nice dialog. The most of the characters were not interesting and when Creighton, arguably the best of the lot, exited the stage, a lot of Treme’s charisma went with him.
![]() |
| Bodie went so fast, you had to see it twice. |
![]() |
| Susan Ross was good for George, which is why she had to go... |
Dexter did a similar thing. This moribund comedy (pun intended) about a serial killer trying to maintain his dark dealings while pretending to be normal, had a similar problem with Dexter Morgan’s long-time girlfriend, Rita. Dexter as a character can’t grow with Rita around - not after four seasons. But here her end was part of the theme: you can’t have your cake and eat it. Rita dies at the hands of Trinity, the serial killer that Dexter went after, so her death is the consequence of his actions. Sadly all this drama was squandered with the appalling fifth season, but there is still hope...
![]() |
| One of the few clean pictures of Maude on the Internet... |
Good deaths in television are about a function: removing a stumbling block or opening up opportunities. In the rare occasion it lights a fuse under a massive heap of gunpowder. And I’ll forever miss those characters, but treasure their sacrifice - as long as the writers don’t mess it up. Game Of Thrones went even further: it killed of what many saw as the main character, the Tony Soprano of the series. Fortunately it is sitting on more gunpowder than China.
Addendum: This article never mentions LOST, despite such departures as that of Charlie. But season six was the equivalent of your ex setting fire to your suits. We don’t talk about LOST anymore.





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