Meticulously shot, writing so succulent that its flavour
lasts upon your lips, long after the line was spoken. Topped off with acting so
meticulous, it leaves you with the shivers. The show’s second season is as to
be expected, a vicious labyrinth and macabre display of twisted nature of power
and those who wield it, all lovingly narrated by one of modern televisions most
loveable villains. That said, the show suffers a fair bit in its sophomore
season. Much like Homeland, it seems like the first go around left the writers
in a bit of a pickle as to how they’ll top their first majestic performance.
The
second season begins with Frank sizing up his post and figuring out what his
next move should be. As he sizes everyone up in relation to his new post, they
fawn at him. The only ones who seem to truly understand how ruthless and
methodical the Underwoods are, are the journalists from season one. As Zoe
continues her investigation, we are led to believe that Frank will have to
contend with the Nancy Drew of the journalistic world, even as he tries to drag
president Walker out from Tusk’s heel. Sadly, this is not to be. In retrospect,
after having seen the full season, the shocking end of the first season is kind
of the first crack within what is undoubtedly Netflix’s best show. But we will
get to that later.
As
usual, every shot, every scene, every episode, they are all shot and framed
impeccably. The use of tones and shades alongside a perfect blend of
contrasting colours is a work of genius regardless of anything else that comes
from the show. From the creamy tones of the oval office, to the dark full
colours of the Underwood home, the viewer is never looking at a dull or
monotonous screen. The colour and set design as usual also serve to give the
characters, more character without them ever having to say a word. Let’s look
at Frank, throughout the show he is working on a model battlefield from the
civil war. Building a model battlefield, mimics what we see on screen. He is
creating his own battlefield, choosing who goes where and what colour they
wear. Whereas his political battles show us that he is still a man who is
grasping for the ultimate power. The miniature battlefield shows us how Frank
sees himself. A god among men, making them do his bidding, something all but
Claire are blind too it. Another example
is that of Raymond Tusk at the twilight of his arc. We find him in an elegant
hotel, but it is fairly sparse and extremely clean. Off course since this is
near the end of the season he is looking at the sunset. A lot more obvious than
Frank’s battlefield, but no less striking. A man of power, at the twilight of
not only him, but his empire as well. The show has also managed to capture the
feeling of isolation perfectly. Even when the screen is filled with actors and
happenings, the principles always seem to feel alone and separate from everyone
else. The framing of the shots gives the audience a taste, of the rarefied air
which the shows real life counter parts must breathe. Even when they meet those
of equal stature, the isolation never leaves, probably due to the fact that
they’re all ready to stab each other in the back, before they’re done turning.
The
dialogue is this show’s spice and vigor. It layered on so many levels that
there are no straight conversations. Every single sentence has at least two, if
not more, insinuations or layers. The care with which each line of dialogue is
written is astounding. The writers took care to cross their T’s and dot their
I’s. Frank’s soliloquys are as usual are a verbal delight. It’s verbal
masturbation on the writer’s part and performance ejaculation on Spacey’s part,
but when it sounds and looks this good, who would say no to such a fantastic
jerk?
The
acting is usual, simply top notch. Spacey never misses a beat as the conniving
Underwood. Penn, is as cold and methodical in her portrayal of Claire as Spacey
with his rambunctious performance of Francis’. But in truth, it’s not the leads
that hold our attention. It almost never is, the leads are anchors of the series,
but it’s the other characters that make the world live and breathe. Molly
Parker for instance is dazzling in her performance the new whip, Jaquelin. In
credit to Parker and the writers she is devilish fun to watch as she tumbles
into the moral abyss, even as she denies it and even lies to herself about how
much she has fallen. Molly Parker brings earnestness even as she coldly tears
down obstacle, read people, in her path. Her face offs with Claire are in many
ways better than those Frank has with his numerous belligerents, and many a
time, far more interesting. The writers make great use of two wonderful female
characters as they battle over sex, but not in a salacious way, always
intelligently and scathingly, twisting presumed expectations.
Doug
Stamper, played creepily by Michael Kelly has a fantastic and tragic arc. As a
man who has towed the line of the abyss for so long, it is bittersweet to see
him succumb to his human failings. In Doug we first get a glimpse as to why
Remy is spoken so highly of. Remy lived and made himself into a legitimate
contender, while Doug, dies at the hands of Rachel, his impromptu prisoner,
while narrowly avoiding Frank’s chopping block due to his growing infatuation
with Rachel. Kelley manages to bring the tough, hard demeanor, one would expect
from his character. But, in between, the writers show us his humanity, the
cracks in his supposed perfect mask and how his addictions get the better of
him. This along with the detour into Freddy’s, Frank’s rib guy, life bring so
much colour to this slick and oily world. Reg E. Cathy is grand as a man whose
life is catapulted to luxury, only to be sucked back down and destroyed by one
slight misstep. The anger and acceptance seep through his teeth as he growls
the lines. Cathy’s growling throughout the series is one of the many minor
delights a show of this expertise offers.
Then we
have Remy, played wonderfully by Mahershala Ali. In season one, we only got a
glimpse of Frank’s former protégé. We heard little bits and pieces about who he
was and why he left. We always heard how good he was, but it was never really
justified. This season we finally got to see Remy in action and sadly, the
results are more tepid than hot. Ali does a wonderful job, but Remy’s character
arc seems to tip toe a fine line, far too carefully. Maybe it’s because we
didn’t see much of him in season one, but his softer side, seemed to hover over
him like a wet cloud. Only when we get biting moments of Remy’s true
intelligence to we as the audience get to peak at why Frank tread carefully
around Remy, even if he jokes about the man’s lack of foresight. Simply put,
Remy is quite possibly the show’s best bet at giving Frank a true adversary,
rather than the mishmash we have gotten so far. Truly, Remy and Jaquelin could,
together form a power couple as magnetic and charming as Frank and Claire. It’s
only the writers insistence that Remy still has a little bit of heart left that
keeps this from coming true.
Speaking
of adversaries, well this is one of the shows problems. Tusk and Walker seem
more like stumbling blocks, rather than true threats to Frank’s dreams. Are we
truly to believe that Tusk, a man with pockets so deep and resources so great, that he can shut down
the power grid of an entire coast line on a whim, would go down so easily
against Frank, a politician who is openly reviled by much of his own party? In
the same corner we also have Walker. A president so ridiculously inept that he
makes Bush seem like a fantastic political choice. He is so clueless that Frank
can basically sing and dance around the man, proclaiming his intentions as he
pleases. This is one of the show’s biggest problems. The writers seem to be
afraid of giving Frank a real challenge. They make his opponents either
cartoonishly dumb, or handicap them by rules that the Underwoods can ignore,
even if said opponent occupies the same murky world of morality and ethics.
This is
where my praise and love of the show must be truly put aside as I explain why
the show took a step back in many ways. For a show such as this, stagnation is
truly a stab in the side and at many times this show it would seem, simply sat
on its laurels, succulent dialog. As I said earlier, the death of Zoe Barnes,
was in retrospect a sign of the cracks too come. This is because, it basically
gave Frank a free slate. It was so neatly wrapped up that Frank had nothing to
fear, as if the writers got bored of the story line and wanted to through it
away. But they didn’t, they kept dragging it along, first through Lucas then
through Gavin as a set up for season three. It’s as if they had second thoughts
about dumping that line but were not quite ready to let go. And of course Gavin
is a great hacker, who listens to techno at super high volume while having a
wine cabinet in his basically vacant apartment with a super high ceiling!
Sorry, got a tad carried away their. But at the end of the day, this is more a
minor problem. The real problem lies in how they have positioned Frank.
In
season one, we see that Frank is above almost if not everyone. We can buy into
the fact that he should be in the next league up. We were led to believe that
the risks would be greater. With a disappointed sigh, I must acquiesce that
this is not so. Frank is so adept with toying with his opponents, that at times
it loses its fun. You never get the sense that Frank is truly in any danger.
For all we are told about the potential fall of Frank, the season never really
feels like it could happen. His hubris is always justified, as is his villainy.
Thus we never get to see the consequence for his actions, only the rewards.
Rewards, which the show doles out too freely.
For a show so meticulous with its
words and framing, it seems awfully anxious to put Frank in the chair. This
makes the entire season feel almost as if it’s a point A to point B affair.
Rushing through plot points with wondrous dialog, simply to show us a monster
sitting at the head of the white house. It makes no real effort to make Frank
grow as a character. He simply stagnates and begins to slowly congeal as the
words spoken by Kevin Spacey, dance between your ears. Think of the way
Homeland’s second season stumbled about trying to recapture the magic of its
first season, that’s what House of Cards season two feels like.
The
last three paragraphs said and done, I would still highly recommend this show
to anyone. The dialogue is amazing, quite possibly the best on TV today. A
mixture of theatre with reality that poetically ensnares the viewers’ attention
with an iron grip for fifty minutes at a time. The acting, sublime and nuanced,
the roles are played perfectly, even if the role is that of a dunce. The visual
grace of the show is operatic in scope. After watching this show you will wish
that the same crew and DOPs light everything you watch. The sights, stick with
you just as the dialogue does. For days and days and days. My final word of
praise is left for the final shot.
Frank, takes
it all in as he waltz’ into his new office. After taking it all in, he turns to
the audience and puts on his new class ring, which he got as a gift from
Claire. He coolly stares at us, no lectures, no jokes. His gaze is a mixture of
mockery and admonishment, as if he knows that we condemn and vilify him. But
his stare shows us that we are no better, that our enjoyment is only possible
through his villainy. Then he knocks his class ring to the desk and credits
roll. What a site. Bring on season 3.
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