The first time I saw Game of Thrones, Tywin Lannister was the first to impress me. Cold, calculating, and unnervingly calm—he wasn't a screaming villain. He was the whispering one who ensured the threats were carried out. Charles Dance not only acted as Tywin, but he embodied him. And for a time, I thought that was the most ruthless character he ever played.
But then I came across The Golden Child. And I really couldn't believe my eyes. Charles Dance as Sardo Numspa? A fiendish villain who attempted to kill a mystical child? Tywin may have sent his foes to be slaughtered, but this character wanted to bring darkness to the whole world!
Introducing Sardo Numspa: Charles Dance's earlier and possibly darker role
Let me tell you, Sardo Numspa is no joke. In The Golden Child (1986), Dance plays this shape-shifting demon posing as a sleek human villain. His mission? To kill a child who represents light and spiritual balance. Not metaphorically—literally end him. No wars, no thrones—just pure supernatural evil.
In comparison to Tywin's cunning, politically motivated maneuvering in Game of Thrones, Numspa is a whole lot more straightforward. He kidnaps, kills, and he doesn't even require a council session to make it happen. He's the type of player who didn't have to scheme the board—he just overturned it.
So was Sardo truly more horrible than Tywin in Game of Thrones?
If you're thinking which of the two was colder in Game of Thrones, I actually had to ponder that one for a while. Tywin's all about legacy. He plans things like the Red Wedding so his family retains power—chilling, certainly, but practical in his context. It's a cold-blooded strategy.
Sardo, however? He's simply evil. No complex history. No surname to uphold. He's attempting to kill a child monk simply to call hell upon the Earth. That's not only ruthless—that's villainy with no limits. Tywin may be a brilliant tactician, but Sardo operates in the world of demons.
What was so surprising about Charles Dance's acting range?
Seeing both of these roles in Game of Thrones, I couldn't help but marvel at how naturally Dance transitions between these two extremes. He did an interview where he said that he came into Sardo thinking of him as a "comic villain," and to be honest, it really surprised me because the character freaked me out. Nevertheless, he counteracted that unsettling stoicism with touches of over-the-top villainy—something that you don't find in Tywin's straitlaced character.
It’s pretty wild to realize that the same actor who once wore golden robes in Westeros also wore contact lenses and recited demonic chants in 1980s Hollywood. Talk about range!
Looking back: A career defined by quiet power and menacing calm
Whether it's an evil nobleman or a sorcerer demon, Dance in Game of Thrones can make you sit there in total silence. That's the string I picked up with Sardo and Tywin. He doesn't need to scream or be melodramatic—he makes the quiet hurt. That, to my mind, makes the two characters frightening in their own unique way.
But if I had to say which of these versions of Charles Dance sent me more chills? It's Sardo. I mean, Tywin Lannister may have ruled the Seven Kingdoms, but Sardo Numspa sought to extinguish humanity's light itself. That's a different type of monstrous.
It's interesting how we always think we have seen the highest point of an actor's badness. Viewing Game of Thrones, I felt Charles Dance reached his darkest acting role. However, The Golden Child showed otherwise. He had been giving us bone-chilling performances way before he wore Tywin's shoes.
So, if you ever fancied Tywin Lannister to be the pinnacle of malevolence, watch The Golden Child. You'll certainly view Charles Dance anew, and in a far more frightening light.