Thoughts on House of Cards

I'm aware I'm late to the party here, but in a party I'm even later to, I don't have Netflix streaming.  I still have Netflix, but it's in the discs that come to my apartment; they aren't viewed on my computer. I use it to see obscure OVP films and not to watch random HBO and Showtime series.  Therefore, it wasn't until Christmas that I had access to a Netflix streaming, and I decided to indulge in one of the site's original series, House of Cards.

House of Cards on paper should be perfect for me.  I have always been enamored with both movie stars and with politics, and this series from David Fincher does both.  You have the eternally charismatic Kevin Spacey in the best role he's done since his late 1990's do-no-wrong period, as well as Robin Wright, Corey Stoll, and Kate Mara, all actors that I have enjoyed in some fashion in the past.  And then you have the intricacies of Washington, politics at its most vindictive and calculating, something that I pore through daily posts on Roll Call and The Hill in hopes of finding.

And yet, I wasn't impressed.  It wasn't the fault of certain devices in the show (I rather enjoyed the Kevin Spacey "fourth-wall-breaking"), but in other aspects of the series.  I would blame it on the binge viewing, but I have indulged in this practice in the past with no issue, most recently with USA's highly-addictive Suits.  Instead, it was a couple of other factors that caused me to wane in my interest, despite finishing the entire first season.

For starters, cable and in particular a website like Netflix hasn't figured out a way to react to audience opinion.  We live in an age where viewers can go on Twitter to spill on the latest developments on Scandal and Revenge and showrunners are able to know what visceral reactions the audience is having to a shift on the show.  Shows either are able to operate above this (HBO does this, where everything is filmed prior to the start of the season) or they fall under the weight of such pressure.  House of Cards, for example, would have gained from a little bit of audience reaction to certain characters when they were trying to breath out characters.  I'm months late to the season, but certainly someone had to complain about how the show seems to only really develop four characters despite nearly twenty having decent-sized roles throughout the year.  If you aren't one of the big four leads, you don't matter to the rest of the series, and none of the supporting actors are trying hard enough to distinguish themselves.  Perhaps with some audience interaction we would have gotten more from Christina or Rachel, both flawed but promising characters.

My biggest issues, though, were with the realism and the writing in the series.  The show knows how to put together a monologue (it's David Fincher, after all), and there's always a handsomeness to the show, but the entire plot is far too convenient and too contrived.  Are we really to believe that someone like Corey Stoll's Peter Russo was able to sustain a long career in Washington and politics with the drug issues he has (for those that argue, Trey Radel is in his first term, not multiple sessions in and ready to run for governor)?

Worse, though, is basically everyone that tangles with Frank Underwood.  Every series has their impenetrable leading man, the one who constantly soars while others falter, but haven't we moved beyond that with shows like Mad Men, where Don Draper can fail and continue to persist?  Frank Underwood regularly tussles with the Speaker of the House, President, Vice President, and White House Chief of Staff, all four of which are portrayed as absolute morons.  Let me tell you-even the most milquetoast of Chiefs of Staff wouldn't act so much as a secretary to the president, particularly in the face of the third highest-ranking House member.  The Majority Whip is an important post, but at the very least these two people would be equals, and Frank wouldn't treat her as his personal secretary.  The fact that Sakina Jaffrey is the only woman of color on the show and gets relegated in such a way when her character could be so much more is even more disappointing.

This destruction of facts caused me to not enjoy the show even when there were enjoyable moments.  My friend Pat frequently complains about the realism of tennis in the movies (he's a great tennis player/enthusiast), and I find that I'm that way with politics.  I have trouble enjoying the unparalleled success of someone like Frank Underwood when I have to compare it to real life where even the most outstanding of politicians couldn't get out of this many jams.  With this lack of realism, I found myself not only second-guessing the plot, but also some of the performances.

It's difficult, for example, not to compare Claire Underwood to Mad Men's Betty Draper (just to clarify, this is a compliment from this major January Jones as Betty fan) but as the series progresses this comparison becomes less and less favorable to Robin Wright.  While Betty was pushed and put into her situation by circumstance, Claire's actions, decisions, and demeanor all remain ice queen but unthawed.  There's so little hint to why she is so ambitious (she's Lady Macbeth without the need-to-succeed or a motive) and why she allows her marital Ashley Madison lifestyle.  When I saw the open marriage as centerpiece I was wildly intrigued (this is something we rarely see, even on Game of Thrones), but it went nowhere.  In a similar fashion, Kate Mara's newshound goes from ambitious-and-ruthless to girl-on-the-side, and then Harriet the Spy?  All with little to no reason, but that is this show's raison d'être.  It's all flash with no sense.

In fact, the only character and actor that truly embraces the show and becomes the standout is Corey Stoll.  His struggling congressman, up until the point where he crashes and burns again was the most interesting.  You could truly have built a show around his struggles with addiction as he attempted to move up the ladder parallel to Frank.  While the decision to kill him off (and have Frank turn the deadly key) was stunning and dramatic, it left me with little to no reason to see the second season.  I can handle a ruthless, heartless main character, but not one who goes unchallenged.