Now that I’ve finished watching Season 2, I’m feeling bereft, lost, hungry for more. “House of Cards” is addictive that way. I’ve been trying to wean myself off of the show but instead I read and re-read everything I can get my hands on about it – interviews with the writer and the cast, reviews from the critics, articles about the similarities between the fictional characters and real-life members of Congress.
What makes the show such irresistible television? Part of it is that in this era of stalled government, it’s a kick to see bills actually get passed. Another part is the snappy writing and fast pace. And then there’s Frank and Claire Underwood, two of the most nakedly power crazed people ever. Kevin Spacey is wonderfully droll and conniving as Frank, but it’s Robin Wright’s Claire who is the more complex of the two. She’s loyal and smart and sexy but the coldest thing since the North Pole. And let’s face it: she’s a gorgeous fashion icon. I mean seriously. Take a look.
There’s her haircut…
Her clothes…
Her glasses…
Even her cashmere bathrobe is to die for…
Every now and then she gives us a peek at her softer side, but mostly she cleaves to an agenda and it doesn’t matter who’s caught in the crossfire. I can’t wait to see what she and Frank will do next, but that won’t happen FOR A YEAR. How will I survive until Season 3?
I’ve been watching and loving “True Detective” thanks to Matthew McConaughey’s Rust Cohle.
But there’s only one more episode to go and then the season’s done – and so is McConaughey, apparently. He announced after the Oscars that he’s not continuing with the show. Bummer.
So I’ll have to throw my affection elsewhere. Friends have told me to check out “Nurse Jackie” and “Orange Is the New Black.” But right now I’m not in the mood to dip into a new set of characters on the small screen.
Now the screen on my Kindle is another matter. I’m still reading like a maniac.