Game of Thrones is the most engrossing television show since the incredible Mad Men.

It’s superbly written, the cast and characters are terrific, and the production value exceeds any other medieval/fantasy-based show like, um, Spartacus and Merlin. But hey, Game of Thrones has large amounts of metaphorical chests of gold catapulted at it from HBO.

The inhabitants in this world live where seasons last for decades. Empires prosper during the everlasting summers and kingdoms are frozen over with darkness during the eternal winters. To block out creepy winter-thriving monsters they have a mammoth 700 ft stone wall stretching the whole width of the continent. It’s hinted that things go ape-shit during this time because the characters tremble in fear whenever one of them dramatically utters, “Winter is coming”.

The show is so good that after introducing it to a mate of mine, he went on a sleep-deprived quest and scorched through all the available episodes in 2 days. Talk about addiction…

One critic described Game of Thrones as “The Sopranos in Middle Earth”. Except I’ve never seen The Sopranos (don’t hate me) but we all know it’s critically acclaimed and immensely popular—so it must be good. And there’s nothing too magical or anything elf-like in the show either. But there is a clever, charming yet cunning dwarf though.

And he’s my favourite of them all.