‘Hunt, or be hunted. Welcome back,’ Congressman Frank Underwood says at the conclusion of the first episode of season two of House of Cards, the Netflix drama that’s transfixing viewers across the US. The scrappy video rental’s meteoric rise to a premium content provider seems to have risen to a pinnacle this week with everyone talking about the hit drama—despite the fact that you can only get it on Netflix, and that it premiered on Valentine’s Day (more than a few USians indicated their intentions to spend the sappy commercial holiday at home doing House of Cards marathons so as to get their fill as quickly as possible). I’ll take ruthless politicians over candy hearts any day, personally, but I’m astounded my fellow Americans share the sentiment.
House of Cards is a dark show. With a depth reaching far beyond many other dramas, it’s a sick and twisted portrait of a man who is both deeply evil and diabolically clever—given the popularity of Hannibal, it would seem that this is what US audiences are craving at the moment. What Hannibal does with gore and The Following does with creepiness, House of Cards does with unadulterated power gone to rot and US politics.
Comparisons between this and the ultimately sunny and optimistic West Wing are inevitable. This is a slimy, filthy, dirty, writhing version of US politics, one that does not paint a pretty picture for viewers in the slightest. The President wavers, his staff isn’t strong enough to support him, and Underwood acts as a man behind the curtain pulling horrific strings to get precisely what he wants. It’s not just more power and control that he wants, but the deeper satisfaction of applying his brilliant mind to complex puzzles, not simply solving them but tearing them apart.
In the first episode, viewers got back into the familiar rhythm of House of Cards with dark, sober costuming, cold sets, clinical environments, and sophisticated, sleek, but deadly characters. For anyone who might have made the mistake of thinking that the Underwoods’ troubled marriage might make them more sympathetic characters, both Claire and Francis committed horrific acts in the first episode without so much as blinking, a clear reminder that they’re both deeply amoral—or, rather, that their internal moral compasses are fixated solely on their own wants and desires, not on them of the world around them.
Frank, embroiled in conspiracies and controversies, wriggles to get out of them with the elegance of an octopus slithering out of a net, probing and poking for weak points before compressing himself and squeezing through holes that seem too small for him to fit through. If he leaves others behind, so be it; ‘every kitten grows up to be a cat,’ he notes in a callous assessment of his view of other human beings as disposable objects, keepable while useful and garbage to be thrown out the door when not. He is a mastermind when it comes to evading consequences and scrutiny, living in his own little fiefdom.
I’m personally savoring House of Cards, given that once these episodes are over, I’ll be all out until season three (thankfully already renewed) is released. Others have chosen to plunge through the entire season as quickly as possible, gorging themselves on the programme. (It must be leaving them feeling decidedly odd—when I tried to do that with Mad Men I entered a terrifying fugue state that persisted for several days, and House of Cards is even more dark and twisted.) This has become a subject of some controversy and debate in the US, as people compare and contrast those who choose to marathon television shows and those of us who eke them out bit by bit to enhance our enjoyment.
This is a programme with such a stark, bleak view on US society, culture, and politics that watching it all in one go seems like a recipe for cynicism. Even for someone who doesn’t trust the government and many of its processes to begin with, I must confess that House of Cards always leaves me feeling particularly dour even after just one episode. How much worse it must be for those who watched it for 13 hours straight for the full immersion experience.
This is a programme with real momentum for Netflix, which has seen traffic soaring since the 14 February release of season two. The company is clearly starting to find a groove when it comes to identifying exclusive content, producing it effectively, and releasing it in a way that will appeal to viewers. With additional monetisation from the sale of DVDs and related products, Netflix will be in line to turn a tidy little profit from the series, even as rival Hulu tries to attract some attention by picking up the original British version for redistribution.
Given how successfully this content model is working out so far for the company, we could be looking at similar programming in the future, which is exciting move for a generation of media consumers who are growing increasingly picky about the format and quality of their television. Cinematic-quality drama in particular is a strong draw, as is the ability to watch programming anywhere, any time, and at any pace.
The original British show was a masterpiece.