House of Cards (2013-Present)

*Disclaimer: I wrote this review in 2014, before the allegations against Kevin Spacey came out. I remember it was a hard one for me to process initially, because I’d been a big fan of Spacey, and I had a kneejerk reaction to half-want to make excuses. It was a short-lived reaction, but that doesn’t make it better. Since then, I’ve taken more care to interrogate my responses to allegations against people I’ve liked. As for Spacey, he’s one that I’ve really been unable to watch at all since I came to terms with the allegations; I can’t see his face without thinking about what he did to Anthony Rapp and the others.*

 
 I took a bit of time off for Orange is the New Black’s second season, but I’m finally caught up on this other Netflix original series.  A dark, slick drama from the Breaking Bad or Mad Men school of antiheroism, House of Cards weaves a complicated tale of political scheming and Machiavellian ambition.  It’s a show that plants the seeds of overarching plots and draws them out slowly over multiple episode, but it also has Big! Shocking! Moments! that leave you staring goggle-eyed at the screen, wondering if you actually saw what you just saw (episode 1 of season 2, just sayin’.)

Frank Underwood has spent years in Congress as the Democratic Whip, but when the new president passes him over for the expected position of Secretary of State, he decides that enough is enough.  He undertakes a brutal long game in a quest for power and retribution, setting myriad fires through crafty manipulation.  He wages covert wars on numerous fronts – he drives legislation, woos journalists, blackmails colleagues, and, ultimately, casts a large and impressive shadow.   

I’ve heard comparisons to Richard III.  I’m planning on reading it later this summer – working my way through the Henry VI trilogy first – so I’ll probably have more to say on the matter then, but even now, “Shakespearean” is the word that often comes to mind when I think of this series.  The relationship between Frank and his wife Claire has shades of the Macbeths, though the comparison is imperfect; while Claire is ruthlessly determined and resourceful, she’s not the unscrupulous seducer whispering in the reluctant Frank’s ear.  Rather, they’re birds of a conniving feather, working together to see their aims come to fruition.

Othello is another play that bears mentioning.  Frank’s machinations are positively Iago-esque; it’s not enough for him to simply best, outwit, or even defeat someone.  He greatly prefers to lay clever traps that they wind up springing themselves, forever playing the spider as he lulls them into a false sense of security.  Just as Iago resents Othello for making Cassio a lieutenant over him, Frank is motivated in part by the slight he feels at the hands of the president.  Again, it’s not an exact parallel, because Iago doesn’t seem to have any particular goals beyond his revenge.  As much as Frank wants to scorch the earth beneath the president, he also has larger aspirations, and every movement is calculated to simultaneously drag someone down and pull himself up.

As Frank, Kevin Spacey delivers a masterful performance.  He’s commanding, sly, and chameleonic, one minute a chivalrous good-old Southern boy, the next a steely-eyed cutthroat.  He regularly addresses the viewer in asides to the camera – it’s especially effective when he merely gives us a look, offering a glimpse of his true intentions in the midst of a charade.  There are a number of other excellent performances in the show, including Robin Wright Penn’s icy Claire (Buttercup herself!)  It’s a fantastic, engrossing show that’s very good at leaving me wanting more:  the final shot of season 2 left me ruing the months-long wait for new episodes.

Warnings

Swearing, sexual content (including nudity and sex scenes,) drug use, drinking, smoking, scenes of violence, strong thematic elements, and incredibly shady behavior.  This isn’t one for the kids.