
When Netflix posted all 13 episodes of the first season on February 1st, I watched
House of Cards a couple of hours each week, then binge-viewed the final four episodes today.
I didn't change
my initial impressions about the series and Netflix' all-at-once experiment in distribution:
1) I liked being able to control when I watched the show and how much of it to consume during a sitting.
2) The dialog is interesting, occasionally crackling. There are no cardboard characters; even minor ones behave intelligently, although motivations are often unclear.
3) The main story is about House Majority Whip Frank Underwood, the flawed protagonist who one often finds in recent television fiction (e.g.,
Dexter,
Breaking Bad). Is Underwood, played by Kevin Spacey, a good guy with troubling defects or a bad guy with some redeeming features? The answer is fairly clear by the end of episode 13, but it's possible that surprise developments can reverse that opinion.
4) When Frank Underwood's "Plan A" fails, his disappointment and anger seem genuine. "Plan B," which could not have been attempted without Plan A's failure, at the end is on the verge of succeeding so spectacularly that the viewer wonders whether that was the true plan all along. But then why the earlier disappointment and anger, even when no one is watching?
5) We think that we understand most of the characters by season's end, but there are enough inconsistencies in their behavior to make us suspect that we don't know what's truly going on.
6) In theme and tone House of Cards reminded me of
Advise and Consent, the 1959 bestselling novel about the nomination of a fictional Secretary of State. Reporter-author Allen Drury's tale of intrigue revealed how the "real" Washington differed from the civics-class version and earned him the Pulitzer Prize. While Season 1 of
House of Cards can be enjoyed on a standalone basis, there are enough unresolved plot lines that, as with
Advise and Consent (many) years ago, we eagerly await the next installment.
© 2013 Stephen Yuen