Written by Steven Allison
On November 2nd, Netflix finally returned with its 6th season of House of Cards. Last year, viewers were left uncertain as to the show’s fate when actor Anthony Rapp accused Kevin Spacey of sexual misconduct. Netflix subsequently parted ways with Spacey, and a final season of Beau Willimon’s political thriller was announced. As production had only begun two weeks prior, it was decided that a shift in focus and direction could be accomplished without too much trouble.
The most likely scenario was that writers would kill off Frank Underwood, leaving his Vice President and wife Claire (Robin Wright) to take the reins. And that’s exactly what happened – no major shock there. Frank’s unceremonious offscreen death – which remains a mystery until the climax (Oooooooh) – does a serious number on the allure of House of Cards. Realistically, though, there was no other viable option. Staunch fans praised Spacey’s masterful portrayal of the ruthlessly pragmatic politician, so replacing the actor just wouldn’t have flown. Besides, Wright was there to pick up the slack, and she does that as well as she can in the trimmed, 8-episode run. Alas, the outcome mostly underwhelms.
After we left Claire in the Oval Office at the end of season 5, rejecting Frank’s phone calls, the story re-opens 100 days into her presidency with a string of misogynistic death threats. The duplicitous Mark Usher (Campbell Scott) by her side, Claire tries to distance herself from Frank’s crimes and to overcome the patriarchal world in which she finds herself. Even though she has resolved to end what she calls, “the reign of the middle-aged white man,” she faces a momentous, uphill struggle to achieve her ends.
Claire may now rule, but Frank’s legacy lives on. Even in death, he taunts her with help from the menacing and wealthy Shepherd family. In a bid to gain greater control over the country’s affairs, Bill (Greg Kinnear), Annette (Diane Lane), and Duncan (Cody Fern) enter into a merciless, name-calling game of one-upmanship with Claire.
Unfortunately, the Shepherds aren’t Claire’s only foes. The unreadable Jane Davis (Patricia Clarkson) is back with her blurred boundaries and bloated confidence, a dogged Tom Hammerschmidt (Boris McGiver) remains committed to unearthing the truth, and a ballsy Catherine Durant (Jayne Atkinson) plans to spill about being shoved down the White House Residence stairs. Then there’s Frank’s devoted lackey Doug Stamper (Michael Kelly), who seeks to avenge his master’s death – or does he? He should have been canned long ago, but here he is, playing a pivotal role in the home stretch.
Yet, Claire has a force majeure that shouldn’t be underestimated. Lest we forget that she poisoned her lover Tom Yates (Paul Sparks) and rode him while his life slipped away. This is a colder and more calculated Claire Underwood than we’ve ever seen in the past. With Frank’s cruelty paling in comparison, we expect nothing less than her enemies to be crushed like the minor inconveniences they are. Would this really be House of Cards otherwise? It’s both her determination to vanquish these rivals and their efforts to fight back that give the show’s final run an intensity that just about pulls it back from the brink of disaster. But the Shepherds do get too much screen time for my liking, especially in the last episode.
It’s apparent from the outset that a tonally-different programme has turned up to the party with a little more savoir-faire than before – or it at least attempts to make us think that. Claire’s first glance into the camera at the end of season 4, as well as the first words she uttered to the audience at the beginning of season 5, signified her shift towards the same moral depravity that Frank held himself out as capable of since the very start. While they gave rise to a stiff House of Cards boner at the time, Claire’s gratuitous interaction with both the camera and viewers here purely demonstrates that the writers had no idea how to treat her character as the focal point. Ultimately, this just serves to irritate.
However, Claire’s relationship with the camera isn’t the worst offender. That, regrettably, is the ending. Ah, the ending – how can that be summed up without giving too much away? Aside from the grand unveiling of Frank’s cause of death, very little happens that we weren’t anticipating. Sure, things might not go down exactly as we might have guessed, but it isn’t the explosive culmination of events that Netflix could have laid on for its dedicated fans. I haven’t felt so let down the Lost finale. Were all those hours of binge-watching wasted once again?
Let’s face it, the minute Frank’s crusade of revenge ended with Garrett Walker’s impeachment, House of Cards ceased having much of a message. Despite this, followers hung on in there, entertained by whatever deliciously cunning fresh hell the formidable Underwood duo had waiting around every corner and eager to find out where it all led. In a sense, Spacey’s departure represented an opportunity for the show to find its way again, to head towards a conclusion which proved that all the treachery and death wasn’t in vain, that there was true meaning to it all. What a missed opportunity that was.
While Spacey undoubtedly had to go, House of Cards isn’t nearly the same without Frank’s outstanding brand of dastardliness. It’s high time for this series to get its coat and call a taxi. What a shame to be left dissatisfied as we bid farewell, but it’s probably unfair to attribute the failures discussed to Spacey’s untimely departure and the shift in status quo that constituted. After all, the build up to Claire’s ascension had long been in the making, which points to the possibility that the final season was always going to fall short. Bah.
