House of Cards v.s. House of Cards (initial thoughts)

Having belatedly begun and finished the first season of the U.S. House of Cards series, I thought given that Frank Underwood's (Kevin Spacey) arc largely covers its equivalent in the U.K. counterpart of Francis Urquhart (Ian Richardson), and with such interesting political times we currently find ourselves in, that it'd be very interesting to compare the two series together. Admittedly, I'll need to watch more - I have to catch up on the remaining seasons of the U.S. series, and also To Play a King and The Final Cut, the two serial sequels to the U.K. series - before I can make a full comparison, but as it stands I think I can just about do an effective enough contrast/analysis article of both television series.

Before getting down to the plot, story, acting, and other technicalities, it's probably best to look at the respective theme tunes to both shows. The U.K. series has a rather sprightly, energetic and fanfare-heavy theme tune, with an underlying deviousness and mischief; the U.S. series opens each credits sequence with a heavy, ominous and brooding score that makes no mistake about its malice. It's so reflective of the differing tones these two series take even though in the end, they are both narratives about men who resort dirtier and dirtier measures to obtain power. The U.K. series is in many ways breezier, certainly much brisker in pace due to its shorter and more contained length, but that's not to say it has no depth as consequence. Far from that. The U.S. series is in many ways heavier and more incisive, and which explores political machinations with more depth. Which isn't to say it's not entertaining or overly exposition-heavy, far from that.

It's particularly fun, watching the U.S. series and comparing it to the U.K. one, in how they take similar scenes and do them in such different styles, down to small details like Roger O'Neill (Miles Anderson) and Peter Russo (Corey Stoll) taking fake calls from the Prime Minister/President, the central marital dynamic, and the use of the phrase 'you might very well think that...I couldn't possibly comment' by our Machiavellian protagonists.

Now I hesitate to do a full comparison between these two great actors in what many consider their definitive roles, given that I've yet to see the full body of their work as Urquhart and Underwood, but I have to say that with what I've seen so far, Ian Richardson's utterly brilliant and mesmerizing, all-time great work that stretches beyond my abilities of hyperbole, blows Spacey's work out of the water. And Spacey is terrific as Frank Underwood, he really is. Those casual, and sometimes not so casual, asides to the camera, and even the sidelong glares, are all perfect and feel so organic and natural to the character. The way he manhandles, bulldozes and controls all of his underlings, from his confidant Doug Stamper (an excellent Michael Kelly) to his bodyguard Meechum (Nathan Darrow), and of course, the countless politicians and journalists the series throws into his path to presidency, is marvelous to watch.

Yet there's something that's slightly lacking in his portrayal, which is that charismatic quality that manages to both charm and get under your skin. Those clips of them saying Urquhart's catchphrase makes it clear that it's Urquhart's catchphrase for a reason, it doesn't quite ring as trippingly off the tongue in Spacey's mouth because Underwood is so biting, so direct in his delivery, whereas Urquhart retains an amiable but rather enigmatic air when delivering the lines. Frank Underwood is certainly written to be charming, endearing, even sympathetic at points, particularly notable in the episode where he visits his old military school, but he never merges it like Richardson does with his incisive and domineering side.

The remarkable thing about Richardson's performance is how he manages to keep Urquhart's, for lack of a better word, 'trolling' asides to the audience and implement it into how he manipulates people around him. It's just a more fun performance to watch, and also more menacing because while Underwood seems like a dangerous bulldog you can just avoid if you stay out of his way, Urquhart seems like a snake you could dismiss as a docile piece of jump rope before it bites you without much warning. When Underwood loses his rag, it's viscreal, but without quite the impact of Urquhart maniacally spitting into Roger O'Neill's face 'No one's going down. No one's going to spill anything'.

Now the U.S. series does have quite a few attributes where it excels, perhaps even more so than the U.K. series. The longer run-time means that it has more time to delve into its large group of characters, and while not every subplot is as interesting as the others - the whole journalists at The Chronicle takes a while to get going, and there's a slightly needless third romance - there are such gems like Doug Stamper's backstory (see the great little scene above) and his caring but unnerving relationship to an unwitting prostitute (Rachel Posner), Reg E. Cathey's loveable restauranteer, and of course the backstabbing and constantly changing dynamics within the White House where behind every favour is an expected reciprocation. While Urquhart is the main focus and main player in the House of Cards in his series, his machination reigning far supreme over all other Members of Parliament and eviscerating all other candidates, there's more obstacles to Underwood's path to Vice Presidency, including the looming presence of Sancorp, education lobbyist Marty Spinella, the cryptic Raymond Tusk, an uncooperative Vice President to Peter Russo's campaign, and eventually a trio of journalists at the forefront which is Zoe Barnes (Kate Mara).

Mara is unfortunately the weakest link in the series, and her performance pales in comparison to Susannah Harker's brilliant portrayal of Mattie Storin in the original series. The writing behind both characters is different, and Mara actually has more material to work with; she has way more scenes from her perspective outside of her relationship with Underwood, and her character arc from manipulative pawn to an investigator with a conscience is more thoroughly explored by the script. Unfortunately, while she's never terrible, and has a few really good moments, particularly her initial reactions to her newfound fame and publicity and her showdown with her editor Hammerschmidt (Boris McGiver), there's too many scenes where she's just kind of there and leaves the heavy lifting to Spacey/Underwood, showing little to the character beyond a bit of spunky intrepid energy and some sexual allure.

Mattie propositions Francis

(Screenshotted from Netflix)

Whereas Harker is absolutely on point with every line delivery as the hotshot reporter and makes her scenes some of the best in the series, you really believe the hold she has on people due to her great performance. She has such scintillating and twisted chemistry with Richardson, while also showing a young woman very much out of her depth. I haven't gotten to the point where both characters' fates merge, but I will say the U.K. series did so much more to feel for Mattie, while the U.S. series invests me in her side of things due largely to the script and direction, since Zoe does have quite a few 'Deep Throat' journalist scenes where the cinematography and music of the series is at its best.

Zoe could've been the heart of the first season, but where the character and performance fails is where someone else picks up slack. And that is Corey Stoll as Peter Russo, a member of the U.S. House of Representatives struggling with alcoholism, who is used by Underwood and Stamper as one of there primary pawns, building him up into a candidate for Governor of Pennsylvanian before tearing him down again.

The Tragedy of Roger O'Neill the Fool

(Screenshotted from Netflix)

Stoll's equivalent in the U.K. series was Miles Anderson's Roger O'Neill, a drug-addled Tory public relations officer who is ensnared by Urquhart into doing his bidding. When I initially watched the series I wasn't so sure about what I should think about Stoll's performance, he seemed almost too assured, too confident, too obnoxious, and not quite the weak-willed mess of a toady Roger was, a role so brilliantly played by Anderson as a warm-hearted but flawed man who increasingly sinks beyond the point of no return and emerges as perhaps the biggest mess of emotions in television history. Anderson's O'Neill is a terrific bit of supporting work that's been grievously underrated, and some of his later scenes in the series are some of the most harrowing portrayals of grief, self-hate and drug addiction ever.

(Possibly the most heartbreaking moment)

(Screenshotted from Netflix)

Yet where he and Stoll diverge is part of the brilliance of what the U.S. House of Cards does with Peter Russo's character, is by turning what most of the public and political world would consider the most reprehensible, repulsive character to be perhaps its most sympathetic one. Where Roger O'Neill experiences a terrifying downwards spiral into self-destruction with the help of Urquhart, Russo falls down to rock bottom, is helped up again only to be thrown down even further. It's a marvelous performance that starts off as self-obsessed and hedonistic politician before revealing his weaknesses, shown in him being domineered by Frank Underwood, but also an inner strength and conscience to fight his demons, shown by his strong desire to uphold his Pennsylvanian roots, his love for his children, and his romance with Christina Gallagher (a heartbreaking Kristen Connolly) that makes his comeback so rousing, and his second descent so heartbreaking.

I still need to watch a lot more in order to make a more thorough summation and comparison of these two series. The U.S. series has a lot of strengths in its production values, cinematography and sound design being two of its particularly strong suits, and does create a more paranoia-infused atmosphere through its combination of the two. But the U.K. series revels in its more brisk and admittedly limited scope by managing to balance a sense of fun with a sense of malice, and I'd say that with far less time to develop, the screenplay succeeds far more in giving us an exploration into its protagonist, as well as having (so far from what I've seen) a far superior leading turn, though Spacey's acclaim is very well-deserved. Something I haven't really touched on is Robin Wright's Claire Underwood. The role of Urquhart's wife was an understandably limited one in the U.K. series, and here Wright is great in the role as the wife who's equally supportive and self-serving, very much a Lady Macbeth in the same way Frank's a Richard III, but I'm not quite sure what to think about the directions where her individual storylines are going yet. Even in the lesser scenes involving her she's great, so I guess I'll continue Netflix-ing to see where it takes her.