June 17, 2025

Media Decoder Blog: Lucky 13: Recapping the "House of Cards" season finale.

We made it. Ashley Parker and David Carr have been recapping “House of Cards,” which many people binged their way through weeks ago. Dropping the season all at once produced a big splash for Netflix, but it made going through the episodes of the series a bit of challenge. But we are finally crossing the finish line by getting to the finale, and if you haven’t done the same, by all means avoid the spoilers below. If, on the other hand, you want to catch up, you can find recaps of Episodes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 or 12, right here.

Episode 13

Synopsis: Frank Underwood’s ultimate goal, at least for Season 1, is revealed, but he has newsies on his tail who smell a rat and/or a big story.

Carr: Is it just me, or are Frank Underwood’s charms a little less easy to discern now that we know he is a cold-blooded murderer? Sure, he is still wheeling and dealing like the Frank of old, it’s just with that his manipulations seem less beguiling when you spot the blood on his hands.

Everything is bound to be a bit of an anticlimax now that Peter Russo has been rubbed out, but there are some worthies in this last episode of the season. Journalism and politics, which were odd and literal bedfellows for much of the season, have returned to their natural antagonisms.

While Frank is meeting with Remy and Mr. Tusk to iron out his plans to take over the world, Zoe Barnes and Janine Skorsky are starting to zero in on what might have happened to Peter Russo. “We need the arrest record,” Janine says to Zoe, and it is quickly discerned that all traces of Mr. Russo’s initial arrest have been taken care of by Mr. Underwood’s flying monkeys that do all of his bidding.

Working for Slugline, Zoe and Janine are a little short on cop sources, but thankfully, Ms. Barnes has switched beds and is sleeping with her former managing editor, Lucas, who is wired up at the cop shop. Zoe uses her one superpower — keening after coitus — to talk him into doing her bidding, and even though he observes, “This is really manipulative,” he punches in.

Mr. Underwood’s wife, Claire, has both nightmares and an unfolding civil case on her hands and she seems almost childlike as she crawls back under her husband’s wing after a vigorous round of straying and betraying.

Frank Underwood stops by a church for no discernible reason — he has no soul that I have noticed — and prays to both God and Satan before settling on praying to himself. The less said of that particular set piece the better, but speaking of scenes that clank, when Lucas, Janine and Zoe stand in a room and begin to piece the larger story together, it’s hard to watch. Investigative journalism is something that generally happens alone in a room with documents and when the epiphany emerges, it is not usually in conversation. But that doesn’t make for good visual storytelling, so we end up with reporters in a room, rubbing their temples and gaming the story out together.

I liked the season and the show — give or take — and will definitely tune in for the next, but when it becomes apparent at the end that Frank Underwood has been gunning to be the vice president all along, it’s hard to keep dissonance at bay. It’s like the person who spends wads of cash at the county fair trying to get the ring around the bottle and when he or she finally does, they hand him a cheap, dirty stuffed animal. Not that being vice president is nothing, but it’s a hard chair for somebody who is addicted to power like Frank Underwood. We can only guess that he is using it for his adjacency to the president so he can inflict maximum damage from close quarters. What’s your take on all that, Ashley?

Parker: Keep in mind, for starters, that the only reason the V.P. slot is even available to Frank Underwood is because the previous vice president found the job so unappealing — and so utterly powerless — that he was easily convinced to give up the perch in order to run for governor of Pennsylvania, a job he’d already had. It’s a bit of a wonder Mr. Underwood would ever covet being vice president, though as you point out, he seems to know how to manipulate the president from both far out and close in, and we have to imagine this stop is yet another stepping stone to … something.

Like the show, hate the show, or find the show vexing and frustrating but ultimately addicting, what strikes me now at the end of the first season is how successfully — in D.C., at least — “House of Cards” has inserted itself into the fabric of the city. The other day, for instance, I received an email for a friend’s birthday that began by extolling the virtues of “our favorite Slugline colleague” — a k a, the birthday girl, who is in fact a reporter at a major national daily.

And then, the other night, I was eating dinner with a friend (and fellow reporter), and we were commiserating about editors and deadlines and being competitive in a 24-second news cycle world.

“Can you imagine if Slugline was real?” she asked with a shudder of actual horror. “It would be unbearable.”

And on, and on.

Frank Underwood got less palatable and Claire Underwood got more complex and Peter Russo got snuffed out (alas), and Zoe Barnes seems to be committing occasional acts of real journalism. And I’m glad to have watched the show, and glad to be caught up with some of my peers, who binge-watched the entire 13 episodes the weekend or week they were first released.

Carr: Yes, it felt a little lonely out here, still playing “House of Cards” when the rest of the world was now playing “Game of Thrones,” which is kind of the same show in a way, but played out with armor and swords.

I like that the journalism — so much a part of the problem to start the season — has reared its head as a corrective, a source of accountability and eventually, the truth. Looking ahead, you’d have to think that Frank Underwood will find a way to make the dots stay unconnected so he can continue to perpetrate and the show can unfurl for another season, but it’s nice to see reporters hot on the trail and making Frank Underwood sweat.

Here are my wishes for the upcoming season: I would like Doug Stamper, Underwood’s loyal aide-de-sleaze, to turn on his boss. I’d like Ms. Underwood to develop a power base that is used for something besides advancing her husband’s interest. I’d like to see Slugline’s run-and-gun approach get the site in some hot water, and I’d also like Zoe Barnes to go after a story, start to finish, without sleeping with anybody.

We’d like to do something like this again, so if you have ideas on tempo, approach or format, please drop in on comments and tell us where to go.


Follow Ashley Parker on Twitter at @AshleyRParker.

Article source: http://mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/04/01/house-of-cards-episode-13-recap-journalism-and-politics-finally-break-up/?partner=rss&emc=rss

Media Decoder Blog: In episode 10 of "House of Cards", Frank Underwood gets floored.

We are now officially headed toward end-of-season recess on “House of Cards” and Ashley Parker and David Carr take a look at episode 10. If you like reading their take on the political and media dimensions of the rest of the season, you can find episode one, two,three, four, five, six,seven , eight or nine here. Spoilers are thicker than plots on “House of Cards,” so consider yourself warned.

Episode 10

Synopsis: Frank Underwood is excoriated by the president for getting the vote count wrong, and realizes that it was his wife, Claire, who sold him short. The Underwoods’ marriage faces a crisis. And Congressman Peter Russo faces a crisis of his own, as he falls off the wagon with some help from Frank’s henchmen.

Parker: Deliciously, early on in this episode, Zoe Barnes is the one who breaks the news to Frank that his wife helped him lose the crucial two votes for Peter Russo’s watershed act.

“This is a juicy story, Francis,” she says, using the full name that only his wife calls him. “Carly will love it. The majority whip’s wife stabs him in the back.”

And so we get yet another glimpse into the marriage/partnership of the Underwoods. When Frank confronts Claire, his accusation seems to get at the crux of their relationship: “We make decisions together,” he says, to which she retorts that it certainly hasn’t felt that way recently. The betrayal seems to bother him less than the fact that they are no longer operating in tandem, making choices together to further their mutual ambitions.

Finally, a frustrated Frank tells Claire a hard truth he thinks she needs to hear: “CWI is important, yes,” he says, referring to the Clean Water Initiative, the foundation she runs, “but it doesn’t come close to what we’re trying to accomplish.”

Which made me wonder: What are they trying to accomplish? The season starts with Frank Underwood being passed over for secretary of state, unfairly in his eyes. He vows revenge and to right the wrong, but it quickly becomes clear that secretary of state is no longer what he’s going for. He wants to punish the president, but how, and to what end? As the show has progressed, it’s become increasingly unclear to me just what Frank (and Claire) want. What do you think, David? Does he have a bigger or more lofty goal than simply amassing power for power’s sake?

Carr: I am not in the writer’s head, but I think Frank is gunning for a position from which he can launch an inside job on the president. I felt from the beginning and still feel that the motivating factor in Frank’s life is simple payback, more so than the accumulation of power and favors.

It’s not a very lofty goal and perhaps Claire senses that. Why sacrifice and let hard work go down the drain unless there is something real in play. It’s been odd to watch the last three episodes because we have been led to believe that Frank is the ultimate inside player, someone who is always a few moves ahead of everyone, and sometimes he is. Yet we have also seen him played, time and again. He has been double-crossed by the president, his spouse and, depending on how you keep score, Zoe Barnes.

So does Frank have game or not? For a player, he seems to get played a lot. Perhaps that is because he is in the midst of a dangerous game, but his instincts for where the real threats to his plans are seem off to me. The great unraveling of the last few episodes pulled me in, hard, just when I thought I knew where things were headed. And it makes me wonder what he might be willing to do when cornered.

And because I have had my own struggles with addiction, I have to pop off a bit about recovery issues in the series. It’s clear that Peter Russo is a mess, albeit an occasionally charming one, and also that he is just one more game piece on Frank’s chess board. But Doug Stamper? Frank’s aide de camp and henchman is first set up as Congressman Russo’s sponsor in recovery and now is greasing the skids so he can go tumbling off the wagon. Without getting into the specifics of any recovery program, that is supposed to be a sacred relationship, and yet when push comes to shove, Doug Stamper is more than happy to all but pour the whiskey down Peter’s throat.

I guess it is of a piece with other plot lines. When real blood is drawn in “House of Cards,” it’s not by enemies or political opponents, but by intimates, people whose proximity and relationship of trust allows them to inflict maximum damage. So keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and by the way, your friends might be your real enemies, I guess.

Ashley, I sense we are both somewhat reluctant, but now die-hard fans of the show. Are you enjoying these hard, brutal plot turns?

Parker: As a reporter, I’ve learned that hard, brutal plot turns often make the best copy. Covering a coup against House Speaker John A. Boehner at the hands of his disgruntled conservatives, for instance, would be a much better — and more exciting — story than Mr. Boehner once again managing to barely keep his conference in line. But as a person, I’m oddly squeamish about seeing people brought low, and human vulnerability laid out in all its glistening slickness.

I have a special soft spot for Peter Russo, and keep hoping for him to succeed against the odds. I’m drawn to the fighter in him, the one who does what it takes and keeps on getting up even when it’s a struggle — which is why I was so frustrated, and frankly confused, that he so easily succumbed to the girl-and-alcohol set-up. To me, it seems like it would have been the simplest and most obvious thing for him to simply walk away. He has a supportive girlfriend, he has two kids, he has a run for Pennsylvania governor that’s shaping into the real deal — in short, he has every personal and professional reason in the world not to fall off the wagon. And yet. And yet.

Then again, I’ve never dealt with addiction. How realistic did that scene seem to you, David?

Carr:Peter Russo has everything going for him, everything to fight for, and when someone sets the equivalent of a loaded gun in front of him, he picks it up and puts it in his mouth.

Remember that it is not his addiction to mood altering substances that pulls him up to that room and to the brink of collapse, but the promise of sex. Men, again and again in this story, again and again on your beat, and in real life as it is lived by most, often seem incapable of making the smart play. Peter may be sober when the episode starts, but it is a series of very un-sober choices that puts him back in the ditch.

Washington is the place where Wilbur Mills ended up in the Tidal Basin on the wrong end of a very embarrassing story, but the issue of men not being who they pretend to be is not a Beltway phenomenon, but a human one.

Parker: That may be true, David. But when that human phenomenon occurs inside the Beltway, as we discussed above, it almost always makes for good copy.

Article source: http://mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/03/25/house-of-cards-episode-10-the-recap-frank-forgets-how-to-count-and-peter-tumbles/?partner=rss&emc=rss

Media Decoder Blog: Recapping episode six of "House of Cards" with a detour through Austin.

If someone melts down on CNN, is that just one small gaffe or the natural order of things? Ashley Parker and David Carr recap episode six of “House of Cards” through the prism of politics and media. In this step back, we end up detouring through the South-by-Southwest festival in Austin Tex., where yes, people were talking about Frank Underwood and Zoe Barnes in addition to Dennis Crowley and Elon Musk.

Version 6.0 of this series has spoilers baked into the code, so avoid if you have not seen. And if you want to catch up with past chats, you can find episode one, two,three, four or five for the clicking.

Episode 6.

Synopsis: Congressman Frank Underwood’s battle with the teachers union over his education bill finally comes to a close, but only after a major public embarrassment for him, when a CNN interview goes awry. Congressman Peter Russo, recently sober, asks Frank for his help in becoming governor of Pennsylvania.

Parker: In this episode, I was reminded of Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel’s real-world admonishment when he was serving as chief of staff in the Obama White House: “You never want a serious crisis to go to waste.”

Every crisis is a potential opportunity, Mr. Emanuel understood — an adage the fictional Frank Underwood intuits after a brick goes flying through his townhouse window one evening. Though he can’t officially pin the vandalism on the labor unions and its leader, Marty Spinella, who’s leading the teachers’ strike against Frank’s education bill, he certainly seizes the moment to make a compelling hearsay case.

“Disorganized labor” becomes Frank’s rallying cry, as he spins the brick-throwing incident as an indictment of Mr. Spinella’s failure to control his troops. Pretty soon, the phrase has gone viral, popping up as a talking point in the corridors of Congress and on cable news. (The labor unions, warns one talking head, “might want to tone down the rhetoric before disorganized labor turns into organized crime.”)

In a way, this pure political calculation reminds me of what we’ve seen recently in Congress, with sequestration. Each side has tried to use the crisis of automatic and arbitrary across-the-board spending cuts to blame their opponents. The Obama administration, for instance, canceled all White House tours (Message: Blame the Republicans that your 12-year-old child can no longer visit 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue on your long-planned trip to Washington), while the Republicans held media events at military facilities in their district (Message: Blame the Democrats for our soon-to-be weakened national defense).

By the end of the episode, Frank has seen his fortunes turn twice — first for the worst, when his embarrassing CNN interview goes viral, and then for the better, in a perverse sense, when a inner-city elementary school boy who should have been in school is killed in a gang drive-by.

“I’ve got a dead, underprivileged kid in my pocket,” Frank tells Marty Spinella. “What do you have?”

So, David, I’m curious: In both “House of Cards” and in our actual Congress, is this savvy politics, or politics at its most base?

Carr: I loved watching Frank melt down under the hot lights of cable news when his moment came. He takes such delight in watching others stumble that seeing him in the same crucible and watching as the marble slowly rolled off the table seemed like a fair comeuppance.

Anybody who has ever been on television can identify with that moment. I was on “Real Time” with Bill Maher one time and I stupidly tried to be funny on a comedian’s show. I was trying to make a joke about how he and other people see people from middle America. But then the room bounced at the wrong time, he brought me up short and it sounded like I was the effete jerk making fun of average Americans.

I spent three days on the Internet as the worst person on the planet and there were calls for me to be flogged or fired from government officials, radio talk show hosts and many others. My brother even called to chew me out. You can try to explain yourself, to fill them in on the subtext and what really happened, but then, the camera doesn’t lie. Or does it?

The power of that cable-powered echo chamber is so well-rendered on this episode, I felt a little uncomfortable watching it. By now, we know the drill: The sound bite comes unmoored from its context, and suddenly it is a meme that catches fire. Before you know it, it is auto-tuned to its most damaging perfection.

(There was one thing that I have to whine about in this episode and it has nothing to do with politics or media. Mr. Russo’s sponsor in a program of recovery is chosen for him by Frank. Without getting into the particulars, even in the Washington and in Hollywood, where recovery programs and professional life crash in unseemly ways, I think this is too far-fetched. With that out of the way, I do think that they get most of the alcoholic stuff — both drunk and sober — right on the money.)

As usual, Frank gets what he needs in this episode, even when he doesn’t get exactly what he wants, which is a strong, running theme of the show. But it makes you wonder when the music stops, if Frank will be right over the chair he wants or just one step to the left or right. You have to know that he will crush whoever is sitting there.

Weird question if you want, Ashley. We bumped into each other at the South-by-Southwest conference, an event where people wear badges, important men make speeches and the hierarchy is vigorously enforced in both business and social settings. If you get my drift, did you find your time in Austin, refreshing or annoyingly familiar?

Parker: In a weird way, SXSW reminded me of a political convention — the good and the bad. You had the legitimately interesting people keynoting the conference (the equivalent of the Bill Clintons and Chris Christies, if you will); you had the hangers-on and scenesters who were there just to be there and take meetings (the lobbyists, perhaps); and then there was everyone in between (the journalists, the aides and staffers, the PR swarms). You even had actual politicians, with everyone from Al Gore to the twitter-savvy Newark Mayor Cory Booker popping up to speechify.

You had hotels that were too expensive and too far from the downtown, you had free food and free alcohol, you had long days and even longer nights, you had parties you were invited to and parties you crashed, you had fortuitous run-ins with people you knew from back home and people you only knew from Twitter, and you had a definite scarcity of cabs. (A fitting parallel: at the 2008 Democratic convention in Denver, I somehow found myself at 3 a.m. stranded in the freezing rain in the warehouse district after a party, and had to take pedicab 60 blocks back to my hotel. This last week, I found myself a bit earlier in the evening — I am now four years older, alas — stranded in the pouring rain in the warehouse district after a party, and had to take a pedicab a mile back to my hotel.)

Of course, we were both there for the interactive part of the week, which maybe was more wonky and dorky — and more like a political convention — than the rest of the week, which is basically just one giant film festival and concert featuring set after set of great shows.

One funny thing, though, was that as soon as anyone learned I was from D.C., the first question they invariably asked was, “Do you watch ‘House of Cards?’”

Carr: True that, but then the question quickly pivoted to the implications of the Netflix delivery model, the threat to cable bundles, and a future of consumers calling the shots and a
la carte programming. That and whether Slugline was going to hold an I.P.O. any time soon.

Article source: http://mediadecoder.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/03/14/house-of-nerds-what-if-you-crossed-a-political-convention-and-sxsw/?partner=rss&emc=rss