He Was Told His Head Would Be Crushed “In Three Steps: First the Teeth, Then the Eyes, Then the Entire Melon.” Pedro Pascal Loved Every Second of It — and Fell Asleep Filming the Most Shocking Death in TV History.
DUBROVNIK, CROATIA. 39-year-old PEDRO PASCAL, not yet famous, filming the most shocking death scene in GAME OF THRONES history. It was so hot he fell asleep while playing a man getting his skull crushed. The whole crew was laughing. And somehow, this single scene changed everything.

It is June 2014. Dubrovnik, Croatia. The sun is relentless. The temperature is in the high thirties. A 39-year-old actor named PEDRO PASCAL — not yet famous, not yet The Mandalorian, not yet Joel Miller, not yet Reed Richards, not yet any of the things he would become — is lying on the ground of an outdoor set while a production crew applies special effects makeup to simulate his character having his skull crushed by a seven-foot man.
It is, Pedro would later tell Hot Ones, the best part of the day.
Specifically: “I got my head crushed in, it was the best part of the day. It was so hot when we were shooting that scene.”
He also, at some point during the filming of the widest shot — the one where you can see the full horror of what has happened to Oberyn Martell on the ground below The Mountain — fell asleep. The camera was far enough away that it did not matter. When the editors cut to that wide shot, PEDRO PASCAL may simply have been unconscious in a Croatian summer, the special effects blood drying slowly around him, while the crew moved to set up the next angle.
This is the story of the scene that changed his life. Told from the inside.
“Everyone thought it was hilarious that my head was being smushed like a watermelon. Everyone was so fascinated by the special effects of it. We had a lot of fun.” — Pedro Pascal to Sarah Paulson, Interview Magazine, September 2014
How he found out his head would be crushed — and what he said next
When PEDRO PASCAL auditioned for the role of Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones, he knew one thing: the character would not survive the season. It was written into the character description at the audition stage. He signed up knowing Oberyn was going to go. What he did not know was how.
That detail was revealed in Belfast, at his first meeting with showrunners DAVID BENIOFF and DAN WEISS. He described the moment to the Game of Thrones production team: “I didn’t know how he died, until I met David and Dan in Belfast. They mentioned the crushing of my head in three steps: first the teeth, then the eyes, and finally the entire melon head.”
Three steps. Teeth. Eyes. Melon head.
His response to this information was not recorded. But based on everything we know about Pedro Pascal — the man who falls asleep during the filming of his own skull-crushing, who clowned around with a seven-foot actor between takes, who told Sarah Paulson the whole thing was “hilarious” — it is safe to assume he was more entertained than horrified.

Sarah Paulson, for her part, confirmed in that same 2014 Interview Magazine conversation that Pedro was a “rabid fan” of Game of Thrones before he joined the show. He knew the story. He knew the characters. He knew the show’s reputation for taking beloved characters and doing unspeakable things to them. He signed up anyway. He was thrilled to be there. And when they told him about the melon step, he presumably filed it under “useful information about what the makeup team will need to prepare.”
The day on set — what actually happened
The filming of Oberyn Martell’s death took place over multiple days in Dubrovnik — the same Croatian city that doubled as King’s Landing throughout the show’s run. The heat in summer Dubrovnik is, by all accounts, significant. By June, temperatures regularly reach the high thirties. The outdoor sets compound the effect. The production equipment compounds it further.
The fight choreography between Pedro Pascal and HAFÞÓR JÚLÍUS BJÖRNSSON — the Icelandic strongman who played The Mountain — required extensive rehearsal and multiple shooting days. Between takes, Pedro told Sarah Paulson, he and Björnsson “clowned around.” Two men — one five foot eleven, one seven feet and three hundred-plus pounds of muscle — goofing around in Croatian sunshine in between filming one of television’s most violent sequences. Both of them apparently having a wonderful time.
The death itself — the final sequence where The Mountain crushes Oberyn’s skull — required specific special effects prosthetics and camera work. For the wide shot, the camera was positioned far enough from the action that Pedro could, and apparently did, simply lie in the sun and lose consciousness briefly. When Hot Ones asked him about it years later, he described getting his head crushed as the best part of the day specifically because the special effects process involved lying still in the heat while the crew worked around him. He could rest. He took the opportunity.
“It was so hot when we were shooting that scene. I got my head crushed in, it was the best part of the day.” — Hot Ones interview. In the wide shot of Oberyn Martell’s death — one of the most traumatic images in Game of Thrones history, a scene that made millions of viewers worldwide gasp, cover their eyes, and in some cases actually stop watching the show entirely — Pedro Pascal was possibly asleep. This is somehow the most wholesome piece of information about the most gruesome death in television.
What happened when the episode aired — and why it changed everything
Season 4, Episode 8 of Game of Thrones — “The Mountain and the Viper” — aired on June 1, 2014. And the television audience’s reaction to Oberyn Martell’s death was, by any measure, one of the most intense collective responses to a single scene in the history of the medium.
Reaction videos flooded the internet. People screamed. People cried. People who had been casually watching the show suddenly became deeply invested in a character they had met only seven episodes earlier. The clip of Oberyn’s death circulated endlessly — and continues to circulate in 2026, a fact that the TikTok Oberyn death compilation archive demonstrates with depressing completeness.
PEDRO PASCAL was not prepared for what came next. Not in terms of volume or emotional intensity. He had known the scene would be significant — the show’s reputation for shocking deaths was well established by Season 4. But the depth of the audience’s attachment to Oberyn, and the ferocity of their grief when he was taken away, exceeded anything he had anticipated.

He opened his phone and found thousands of messages. People who were genuinely devastated. People who felt, with the specific irrationality of loving a fictional character, that they had lost someone real. And Pedro Pascal — 39 years old, not yet famous, the son of Chilean refugees, the person whose closest friend had given him money to eat during the lean years, the man who had been trying to become an actor for twenty years — understood, for the first time, what a performance could do to people who watched it.
That understanding is, if you trace the line carefully, the foundation of everything that followed. The complete commitment he brings to Din Djarin inside a helmet. The unwillingness to protect himself emotionally that Vanessa Kirby calls “immense vulnerability.” The voice memo sent to Omar Apollo. The hand placed on a park bench in Lucerne. The same openness that made millions of people feel, watching a man have his skull crushed in a Croatian summer, that they had lost something real.
He clowned around with a seven-foot Icelandic strongman. He fell asleep in the Croatian heat. He described the whole thing as “no part of it was somber.” And then the episode aired, and thousands of people were devastated, and he learned what he was actually capable of.
Seven episodes. One death scene. Everything that came after.
“There wasn’t any part of it that was somber. Everyone thought it was hilarious that my head was being smushed like a watermelon.” — Pedro Pascal, September 2014. And then the audience watched it and a significant portion of them were unable to continue the show.
Why this story matters in 2026
There is a version of the Oberyn Martell story that is simply a fun behind-the-scenes anecdote. The watermelon quote. The nap. The clowning around with Björnsson. All of it is genuinely delightful and entirely consistent with everything we know about Pedro Pascal as a person on a film set.
But the complete version of the story — the part that connects a man falling asleep in Croatian heat in 2014 to the most franchised leading actor alive in 2026 — is about what that response taught him. About what it means to make someone feel something so real they cannot distinguish it from reality.
He had been trying to do that for twenty years before Oberyn Martell. He had done it in theater that no one saw. In guest roles that no one remembered. In the specific, accumulated, unrewarded persistence of a person who believed in something without evidence that anyone else would ever agree.
And then, in seven episodes, inside a show he had been a fan of before he joined it, playing a character he fell completely in love with — it worked. The audience felt it. They sent him thousands of messages. They were devastated in the way you are only devastated by things that matter.
His head was smushed like a watermelon. He fell asleep in the process. The crew was laughing. And twenty-five years of waiting became, in one June night in 2014, entirely worth it.
“Everyone thought it was hilarious that my head was being smushed like a watermelon. We had a lot of fun.” — Pedro Pascal, 2014. And then it aired. And nothing was fun for the audience for quite a while. And Pedro Pascal understood, finally, what he was capable of.