'House of Cards' on Netflix

Original may not be the best choice of words — Netflix’s House of Cards is based on a 1990 BBC show of the same name, also available on Netflix, which was itself based on a novel by Michael Dobbs. The BBC series starred Ian Richardson as Francis Urquhart (known as FU), a British MP majority whip who lies, cheats, and murders his way to the top.

The Netflix House of Cards hopes to reveal the corruption of American politics in the same way as its British cousin. It stars Kevin Spacey as Francis Underwood (also FU), a Democratic majority whip who lies, cheats, and murders his way to the top with the help of his wife, played by the exquisite Robin Wright.

The Netflix House of Cards is now in its second season and, as in the first, has made all episodes available, immediately, so you can watch the whole series in one long Night of Cards. It’s worth it. The acting is top-notch; the show’s production values are evident; the directing is good if somewhat pedestrian; and the writing, while lacking sense and punch at times, is better than most TV shows — or movies.

House of Cards is just good enough to make you wish it were better. The contrast with its British namesake makes its deficiencies evident.

In the British series, FU is a wealthy right-wing Conservative. He wants to become prime minister in part to feed his ambition, but also to complete the work that Margaret Thatcher began. He believes that England was made by and for the merchant-adventurer. His rise to the top is helped by a crass media mogul who expects in return that FU will let loose the dogs of unbridled free market economics. FU believes that the U.K. needs firm leadership and intends that as his country’s “daddy,” he will do what has to be done to get things done — the right way.

While the Netflix House of Cards touches many pressure points in the American political system, it rarely does so with enough muscle behind it to make us feel the pain of our deteriorating body politic. Spacey gives his usual restrained, pitch-perfect performance, this time with the same southern drawl he used in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Wright as a modern Lady Macbeth screws her courage to the sticking place with perfect posture.

A stumble, not a fall

But House of Cards’s second season stumbles through a convoluted plot that makes Watergate look like a nursery story. Frank Underwood is now the vice president, a presidential resignation away from his goal. How to accomplish that? He weaves a complicated noose for the president involving a Chinese robber baron who is in bed with a Warren Buffet-like billionaire who happens to be the president’s closest adviser. They are funneling money through a Native American-run casino to buy American elections. But the big news is that the president may be on Xanax! Meanwhile, Frank has his own problems. His wife, Claire, has to admit to not one but two major missteps in her past: she’s had an abortion and an affair with a famous photographer (complete with incriminating photos). Then Frank's chief of staff becomes obsessed with the one person who could destroy Frank because she knows the truth about — hey, it’s complicated, OK?

And that’s the problem — there are no clear plotlines. Maybe the writers want to make the point that nothing matters but ambition. Great. They made it. And while there are a lot of good lines and snappy scenes, the direction and writing are not up to the speed and agility necessary for a tense political thriller.

The most interesting plotlines concern people who are not in politics but whose lives touch the Underwoods. Season 2 documents how these “civilians” are destroyed merely because of their association with the toxic world of Frank and Claire Underwood. When one of the civilians complains that he is like a pawn in some elaborate chess game, Frank snaps back, “This is no game.” There is no letting up, no dropping out, no possibility of defeat because you have to climb higher and higher so you can bury the crimes you committed to get where you are. You are never safe, never secure, and the non-politicians around you — friends, lovers, relatives — are far less than pawns, they are not even on the board, they are nothing.

House of Cards cannot quite deliver on its promise of a look at the underbelly of American politics. Its soap opera format gets tiresome, with each show ending on a note that will entice you to watch the next show, and its unending plot twists make for a show that is always trying to pull rabbits out of a hat.

Maybe if the episodes were aired weekly, these deficiencies would not be so apparent. Binge-watching the series is like watching a time-lapse version of it: The plotlines that do not mesh loom larger than they would at a slower, weekly speed.

Netflix has already renewed House of Cards for a third season, and the show deserves it. While it has its problems, it is one of the first attempts to portray the American political scene in a long-format show that is not all Sorkinian creme in its center. Let’s hope that the next season will add some heft to a colorful but somewhat tepid and convoluted view of American politics from the inside.

For a consideration of binge-watching by fellow House of Cards fan Judy Weightman, click here.