“I think we should just elect Kevin Spacey to office.”
(Mmyes… I’m listening).
“A lot of people would support him and he seems to have a good handle on it.”
Sold.
This very wise comment was issued to me from a friend and fellow House of Cards watcher after I’d made some (probably really solid) reference about what I assume was murdering people for the greater good. Not one to simply smile and nod like Underwood enjoying adulation, I jumped in offering my yes-and regarding the stipulations for him to hail as commander and chief: “I feel like one of the prerequisites should be that when he addresses the nation, he has to do it as a dramatic Shakespearean aside – like he’s breaking the fourth wall – really letting us in on something special while he looks into the camera.” My buddy added a few more hilariously apt comments. And then we both agreed: we vote SpaceyWood for MVP – Most Villainous President.
And what do we love about Frank? Why’s he a villain to root for? (For whom to root?)
Well, I can’t speak for you – but a murdering conniving bastard with passion fits half the “Kill Bill” bill: Ruthlessness. Frank wants power. He had a weak father who couldn’t even pull his own suicide trigger and now Frank’s spent the rest of his life eschewing anything to do with that (remember the first episode dog scene?). At any cost. Rising to the top. Because the more powerful he is, the further away he can be from the fetid spineless soil of the peach farm and the man who tended it. And sired him. He loathes weakness, resents anything resembling it, and thus won’t rest until he’s obtained its antithesis: oval office flavored power.
Also, like any good entertainment psycho, he’s got that Bateman and the Bundy draw.
It’s that enigmatic charisma that lures us in. Even though we know there’s naught but a power hungry void behind those unfeeling eyes, we just can’t help but be seduced by it. Frank’s draw is so strong, he not only wooed a wife of means (helpful for rising in the ranks) but also gained her family’s approval and blessing.
What’s more – that dark whirlpool at his center has such a pull that he manages to change his wife Claire after their coupling. The politician’s wife just seems like a ride or die bitch to us initially – kinda cold and willing to tell what lies she needs to and accept whoever needs to be murdered sans question. It’s easy to assume Frank just happened to seek out a fellow sociopath as we see her evolve – developing ruthlessness of her own: firing loyal employees at work, showing up at Zoe’s place to quietly terrorize her in that passive aggressive subtle Southern way, trampling a fellow rape survivor for the sake of Frank. But then, closer to the season finale, we finally see her break down and cry before traipsing up the stairs in her Louboutin boots.
This isn’t who she is. Or at least – not who she always was. A genuine sociopath is blissfully unburdened by the weight of wrongdoing. Someone faking it suffers silently and constantly questions whether the wins are worth the sins. So, Claire may like that fleeting feeling of power when she channels her inner Frank.
But she’s not a psychopath at heart – she’s just playing one to stay with one.
While Frank manages to change his wife – it’s ironically a lack of change in himself that makes for yet another likeable quality: consistency. This is especially important when I’m trying to ride the wave of evil a character has to offer. He has no qualms about shoving Zoe in front of a train or staging Peter’s murder. Still – when his longtime friend and rib chef falls on hard times, we half wonder if he’s going to risk his image for the dude. And while he does offer the guy money, he ultimately cuts him off like gangrene.
Then, finally, there are those Shakespearean asides that infuse the character with another layer to love. And it’s particularly enjoyable for anyone who’s seen Spacey do that 1990-something documentary about performing a stage play version of Richard III with Pacino. Or his more recent rendition of the same – where he took the head role instead of Pacino.
It’s interesting – I won’t watch these shows until I get tired enough of seeing everyone talk about it that I reluctantly try it out like a high school fad I hate but wanna be part of so that I can be socially relevant. But before I know it, I watch and I’m drawn into the protagonist so deeply that when he turns someone into a sanguine train piñata or car poisons a father of two, I’m not just stoically sat on his end of the chess board. I’m rocking a Betsey Ross cheerleading skirt and chanting “Hail to the Chief!’
In the end, my buddy’s right. I totes vote chimera FrankenSpacey for president. ‘cause politicians are kinda villainous anyway –right? At least if we add in the lubrication of his simpatico style fourth-wall-toppling honesty (maybe a few different camera angles for flair) during press conferences, then I’ll be able to know I’m getting sodomized by the political cock of corruption as it happens.
And isn’t that far better?
Yes?
Good.
