House of Cards: Welcome To Backstage Washington

Is Madmen really what Madison Avenue was like in the 60’s?

The Phantom cannot say. He wasn’t there. It feels authentic. But he cannot know.

Is House of Cards what Washington is like?

Again, the Phantom cannot say. He grew up in that town, but never worked on Capitol Hill. His knowledge of what the people depicted in House of Cards are really like is indirect. Conversations at the swimming pool or at the occasional cocktail party with various Congressmen, media types. And, of course, there were patients from the Hill, the White House, various agencies and departments. A sort of peripheral exposure.

But from those experiences, over time, Mad Dog did get a  sort of backstage look and sound of what these people are like, how they speak and what they do and do not say. And from that, the Phantom thinks House of Cards is pitch perfect.

The new season will start February 1, and the Phantom is re-watching early episodes to get reoriented.

What makes it all so fun is the intimate glances from Francis Underwood to the camera, where he tells you what he is really thinking, what other people are really thinking.

Washington always has people who never seem to let their guard down. They say stuff like, “Well, it’s the least we can do for these heroes. After all, they are fighting to keep us free.” And you think, “Does this guy think I’m going to quote him on the evening news?”

Much more fun are the folks who will tell you what they really think, often the sly way Francis does. You feel you’ve been admitted backstage; you feel you have a friend.

Of course, that friendship is not without its limitations, but it is fun.

You learn early people who depend on someone for their livelihood are not going to say anything, not going to reveal anything about the boss—that’s understood. You do not explore that territory. They will reveal themselves before they will expose their boss.

The Phantom had some patients, who became friends, who would never have said anything about the President or the Secretary or the senator they worked for. They would skewer some opposition leader, but they never would even mention their boss, and certainly not relate what he had said. That was an area you simply did not go to. The Phantom, who has never been very good at filtering and editing, had to exert much self control to not ask, but he did not ask.

Francis Underwood, however, takes us into his confidence. His willingness  to divulge secrets, to reveal his basic values draws you in. He is taking a risk, but he is saying, “You are worth the risk.”  And he reveals himself, not completely, discretely, as he strangles a dog:

“Moments like this require someone like me. Someone who will act. Who will do what no one else has the courage to do. The unpleasant thing. The necessary thing.”

He tells you, in an aside, he loves his wife more than anything--"I love that woman. I love her more than sharks love blood"-- and you learn that he loves her precisely as sharks love blood; he is playing a blood sport in Washington, and with everyone he runs across.  As you see their relationship evolve, you see it’s not an Ozzie and Harriett type relationship; they are sharks circling, an intimate team, each dangerous, both to those around them and to each other.

Returning home to find discover  Zoe Barnes with her husband,  Claire looks over Zoe as Zoe exits and says, “Does the push up bra and V neck sweater still work?” In one withering line, she reduces the fetching reporter who has just tried to seduce her husband, to a cliché.

Actually, the one false note House of Cards hits is Zoe’s use of a cell phone photo which captured Francis looking at her fetching rear end moving in a revealing dress, as she passed by him at the Kennedy Center. She is saying, “I know you’re attracted to me and I have this embarrassing photo to prove it.”  But men look at women all the time, especially when the woman wears a dress which demands it. 

Francis, to his credit looks unfazed and amused, and you can see his mind working. “I might be able to use this woman.” There ensues a little cat and mouse before Zoe gets down to business and Francis says, "Oh? Is the foreplay over?" 

What is really stunning is how each episode heightens the effect of sucking you into this world. Episode Three, which has one of the most powerful, seductive, edgy, intense, significant scenes in the history of American literature,  where Francis Underwood addresses the issue of how a benign and loving God can permit horrific things to happen, is beyond magnificent. And the really amazing thing is, there are other scenes in this episode which almost match it. The whole episode is such an integral whole, it is simply mind blowing.  Anyone who thinks they do not have time for another series must simply watch the first three episodes, and if they are not hooked, one has to wonder about their priorities.

House of Cards may be the closest thing we have to Shakespeare in American literature. The Sopranos approached that bar. House of Cards may leap over it.