House of Cards - The Second Season

Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright of House of Cards

It’s funny how a readjustment of expectations can drastically alter your enjoyment of a TV viewing experience. When House of Cards debuted its entire first season on Netflix in February 2013, the political series was being hailed as TV’s next great drama and a brand-definer; Netflix’s version of The Sopranos. The cast featured two-time Oscar winner Kevin Spacey, movie star Robin Wright, American Horror Story’s Kate Mara and a whole host of underrated character actors. Not only that, the talent extended beyond the cast to the directors and producers, with people like David Fincher and James Foley. As such, there were huge expectations going into House of Cards in season 1 that it was bound to be hailed as a disappointment if it were anything less than perfect. While much of the response was positive, there was still a huge group of TV critics who considered it nothing special, a show that might not even succeed if it were on television proper. I considered myself among this group of critics sorely disappointed by the show’s many flaws. Regardless, the show garnered a number of Emmy nominations, a win for Fincher’s directing, and a key level of buzz to help build anticipation for season 2. Knowing that the show was nothing special, I watched the second season with an entirely different framework — that of a ridiculous, campy, plot twisty political soap opera — and I surprisingly found myself enjoying House of Cards a lot more.

House of Cards - Episode 1.06 - "Chapter 6"

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     I don't know how it happens but it seems that whenever I complain about one aspect of House of Cards in a review, the problem is fixed in the next episode.  Such is the case with "Chapter 6", which sees Frank stumble for the first time since the series began.  Squaring off against teacher's union lobbyist Marty Spinella on CNN, he gets caught up in a bizarre vowel speech pattern after Spinella gets his wife involved in the debate.  This is one of the only moments when we see Frank in a vulnerable state, unsure of how to proceed.  This is a great moment on its own, the kind of moment I was hoping for, but upon reflection it doesn't make any logical sense.  We've seen at various points in every episode that Frank is a masterful improviser, a man who can quickly adapt to and dominate a conversation.  To see him idiotically stumble over his words seems out of character; the series never explicitly tells us why it happened.  Was it because Spinella got too personal?  In "Chapter 5" we saw how he reacted after Spinella forced Claire's gala out of the hotel so I guess we're supposed to believe that he will do anything to protect his wife and gets angry and flustered when she is threatened.  Regardless of character consistency, the moment is all but forgotten about (after the 24-hour news cycle gets ahold of it) and we are back to Frank dominating everyone and everything around him.  The episode is framed around a brick that gets thrown into Frank and Claire's window at their house.  The teachers strike is an ongoing event and Frank has been getting the blame for not compromising with the union so Frank goes to the media and places the blame on Spinelli and company.

House of Cards - Episode 1.05 - "Chapter 5"

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     This has turned into quite a ridiculous show.  That was my main thought as the credits rolled at the end of "Chapter 5", an episode that featured a comically early-2000's-style "chill" office, a group of protestors standing outside a fundraiser for the sole reason that there are Congressmen in attendance and an absurdly over-the-top teacher lobbyist who makes Rush Limbaugh look like Maya Angelou.  I'm conflicted as to how I should feel about each of these elements because the show seems to want us to take them all quite seriously while also reveling in its own preposterousness.  Thus far the show has masqueraded as the archetypal HBO drama with a morally ambiguous lead character and a sprawling cast that has numerous important conversations and conflicts with each other in small rooms.  There is a great show in here somewhere but too often it gets so caught up in its own web that it sacrifices logic and realism for stylish dramatic gravitas and "TV realism".  

House of Cards - Episode 1.04 - "Chapter 4"

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     I think I have to readjust my expectations for this show.  Thus far in the series we've seen the moral complexities of Frank, Claire, Zoe and Peter and how each of their lives is marred by self-interested ambition, regardless of those around them.  In "Chapter 4" we  see each of these characters continue to play their respective chess pieces in the game of Washington, D.C. despite some very evident cracks beginning to form for some.  Unfortunately we've already reached the well-trodden ground of extra-marital affairs for both Frank and Claire in the same episode.  Claire invites her photographer friend Adam to visit and the two get dinner and a hotel room.  Though she eventually hesitates and resists his affection, she clearly had strong feelings for this man at one time.  And why shouldn't she?  He's almost the exact opposite of Frank, a free-spirit photographer who isn't in the limelight.  Aside from this affair, we see her unhappiness in various forms.  When SanCorps tells her that they will double their donation to the Clear Water Initiative, she understands why (bargaining tool with Frank) but struggles with the knowledge that she must turn it down.  Later we discover that she is dealing with menopause; as she sticks her head into her refrigerator, her unhappiness is painful.  Painfully obvious, that is.  We've seen the long-suffering wife trope in countless critically-acclaimed cable dramas (The Sopranos, Breaking Bad, Mad Men, Six Feet Under, etc.) so Claire's struggle isn't as sympathetic as it should be.  Robin Wright is a good actress who has the commanding presence of a strong, independent business woman but the material she's been given does not equal her talent.  

House of Cards - Episode 1.03 - "Chapter 3"

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     As House of Cards enters its third chapter, we finally get to travel outside of the wheelings and dealings of Washington politics to get some insight into Frank Underwood's roots in his home state of South Carolina.  In the process, we get to see what caused him to be elected to Congress 11 times, as he proudly declares in this episode.  More than anything else, Frank knows how to use his words to sucker people into doing anything he wants, even if that means delivering a eulogy he doesn't fully believe in.  Frank is called away to do some damage control after a 17-year-old girl gets into a fatal car accident after texting her boyfriend about the "Peachoid" (pictured above), which Frank paid an exorbitant amount of money to construct.  Though his colleagues try to persuade him to stay and work on the education reform bill, his image and worth as a Congressman are more important.  What I found interesting about this whole episode was the motivations behind Frank's behavior.  He doesn't go down to South Carolina to express grief over the loss of a young girl, he goes down after a local politician blames Frank's "Peachoid" for the girl's death.  Frank is primarily looking to make the problem go away with a settlement by offering a scholarship to be made in the girl's name.  Through meetings with locals, a eulogy at a church and a talk with the girl's parents, his rhetoric is almost mechanically sympathetic, designed to tap into the emotions of who Frank regards as easily persuaded, simple-minded folk.  He is a master at speechifying and Kevin Spacey probably delivers his most nuanced performance yet.  You almost want to believe there's a decent man underneath all the rhetorical bullshit and the selfish ambition, but his asides to the camera indicate a man whose been in this business for so long that he may have lost his capacity to connect to the common folk.

House of Cards - Episode 1.02 - "Chapter 2"

                                                                                          Patrick Harbron/Netflix

     Though I very much enjoyed the Pilot episode of Netflix's original series House of Cards, I wasn't initially sure if it could reach the HBO-level of high-quality drama it was so clearly striving for.  Unfortunately, this second "Chapter" was on such a similar plane as the first that I'm still up in the air about it.  I'm beginning to realize that these episodes aren't necessarily meant to be wholly satisfying as their own 50-minute stories; rather, they are genuinely intended for the ever-increasing trend of binge-viewing.  None of the thirteen episodes have unique names, they are simply assigned a "Chapter" number, which indicates that they are meant to be consumed like a novel.  And this is the beginning of the story.  Rarely do we find the first two chapters the most exciting ones; the author is busy setting up the rules of the world they've created.  Such is the case with these first two episodes, which find Frank Underwood masterfully manipulating his surroundings with remarkable ease.

House of Cards - Episode 1.01 - "Chapter 1"

                                  courtesy of netflix.com

     Netflix's first big push into HBO territory comes in the form of House of Cards, an original series that will exclusively "air" on the video streaming site.  On February 1st, the company made the bold choice of releasing all 13 episodes of Season One at once.  Some critics slammed the decision as a poor business choice, while others hailed it as a bold new direction in consuming television.  I fall more on the side of the former, especially  because it limits the potential customer base of releasing one per week, while also causing viewers to be on different schedules from each other.  Anticipation is not allowed to be built and buzz becomes limited to no more than a week.  Regardless, House of Cards is a clear indication that Netflix wants to be in competition with the big boys of cable (HBO, Showtime, AMC).