“House of Cards” began as a fun-house-mirror reflection of Washington, an outlandish sendup decked out in the pinstripes-and-Prada props of real-life politics. This Netflix series about a conniving congressman wasn’t realistic, but it was sly and knowing enough to pass as a naughty behind-the-scenes peek at government.
Fittingly enough, the first several episodes of Season 3 are weighed down with the same burden that bedevils real politicians when they come to power: After all the campaign high jinks and maneuvering come to an end, it’s time to actually govern.
And policy is not nearly as sexy and exciting. As a result, the series, whose new episodes all debut on Friday, gets off to a surprisingly sluggish start. The pace picks up and the subplots thicken by the fourth episode, and by the fifth the series recaptures some of its early panache, but given that there are only about 13 hours per season, that’s quite a slow windup. Viewers who intend to feast on the entire season should beware: Before dessert, there’s a heavy, overcooked first course that is hard to swallow.
At the end of Season 2, Vice President Frank Underwood (Kevin Spacey) was sworn in as commander in chief after having successfully schemed and colluded to bring down the sitting president, with the help of his equally ambitious wife, Claire (Robin Wright).
The writers (including the show runner, Beau Willimon) try to bring the same outsize drama and mystique to governance as they did to power mongering, and it doesn’t hold up as well. Once unveiled, the new president’s bold, game-changing proposal is cartoonish and one-dimensional. And that’s true of too much of the first four episodes, in which Frank has to have an agenda, make decisions, push legislation and generally attend to all of the mind-numbing details that come with the presidency, including an appearance on “The Colbert Report,” which went off the air in December.
That would be a good time for the story to step away a bit and develop new plotlines to entwine intriguingly with Frank’s trajectory and pique viewer interest.
Strangely, though, the early episodes unfurl without significant new characters or intriguing distractions. Instead, the story mostly stays on the Underwood administration. And when the action is so overstated and static, it makes the show’s inherent weak points stand out.
“House of Cards” is an adaptation of a British series that was much more tongue-in-cheek and farcical. The American version is weighed down with weltschmerz and paints its satire with a heavier hand. Even the talented Mr. Spacey struggles to find deeper meaning to his character’s malfeasance; Frank’s a bad man who, after two seasons, doesn’t add up. Even his Shakespearean asides to the camera in the arch style of Richard III don’t amount to much. Their use is a gimmick, not a clue.
Claire began as a fascinatingly cool, opaque character, but she hasn’t evolved much either. Her psyche is less examined than Frank’s, and it’s also scattered. In both cases, there is an inconsistency that doesn’t really reflect either character’s inner complexity. Mostly, their moods and motivations stay on the surface and seem to shift in service of the plot more than of their personalities.
And without Zoe Barnes, prostitutes, corrupt lobbyists and dissipated members of Congress to perk up the landscape as in seasons past, the show feels monotonous. It certainly looks it. David Fincher, who directed the very first two episodes of the series, set the visual palette early: Everything is filmed in dull, faded light; people and landscapes alike are stripped of color and vivacity. Apartments, hotel rooms and even the president’s private quarters in the White House are bland, neutral and sparse; it all looks like a Restoration Hardware showroom.
Eventually, a bullying Russian president enters the mix (interestingly, two members of the Russian protest group Pussy Riot also make an appearance), challengers emerge for the next campaign cycle, and “House of Cards” gets back to a livelier tempo of chicanery and double-dealing. But it’s a punishing wait.
Netflix streams the series all at once, but this time there is no instant gratification. Binge viewers get the government they deserve.