When I pulled up Netflix as soon as school ended Friday, they appeared with the calculated abruptness of many a Frank Underwood plot. “House of Cards” season three, all 13 episodes.
I binge-watched three of the one-hour episodes that day (“I need to see enough to write a review,” I rationalized) before taking a break to reflect. It was fun watching, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had seen it before.
For those not familiar, “House of Cards” is a Netflix original series that follows fictional politician Frank Underwood (Kevin Spacey) in his quest for power. The show’s avid following in Washington and even China has boosted Netflix’s popularity as the streaming service attempts to compete with broadcast, cable and a host of other online subscription services.
“House of Cards” succeeds on the strength of its chilling but engaging cynicism: the drama shows D.C. dynamics at their worst, and that’s actually one of the best parts. The visual glamour of the show’s perfect Washingtonians juxtaposes impressively with their shady deals and gritty acts of violence.
The main character (definitely not a protagonist) is right at the center of this sausage-making process. Viewers enjoy tagging along with Underwood because of his ruthless pragmatism and his hatred of double-speaking career bureaucrats. With monologues said directly to the camera and clever emotional manipulation, Underwood shows us behind the curtain of politics—past the PR soundbites and cursory smiles to a world of drama and intrigue.
That intrigue is where the show loses many would-be watchers from Washington. As tempting as it may be to believe during this era of partisanship and division, D.C. is hardly the cesspool of malevolent intentions that “House of Cards” makes it out to be. One can only watch so many politically-motivated murders and affairs before eye rolls begin to replace shock.
Many of the recent episodes, in fact, have been characterized by repetition. Again, Underwood faces yet another surprise obstacle, only to surpass it with eleventh-hour maneuvering; again, a lovable background character loses it all (new watchers, I’d advise against getting too attached to anyone); again, Underwood and his wife Claire (Robin Wright) share a drink or a cigarette as they bask in their improbable but costly victory.
Even at the apex of their power in season three, the Underwoods don’t stop to reflect—they’re busy facing new challenges that the writers have conveniently summoned up. So as I watched on Friday, intrigued as I was when Frank’s impeccable plan once again hung by a thread, the show began to feel a little stale.
There’s still time for a shift, either in this season or when the show is surely renewed for next year. For now, however, I’ll think of “House of Cards” as a fairly good show, exquisitely produced and engagingly cynical but not quite great. But it’s rewarding enough that I plan to keep watching for the foreseeable future, given how impressed I was with the first two seasons. Although Frank would disapprove, I still have trust—in Netflix, and in his story.
