House of Cards (1990)
Having looked at the Left with A Very British Coup, it’s now time to look at the Right to maintain my very thin charade of political balance.
The Conservative Party which has governed the UK for the last seven years has something of a proud history of throwing its leaders under the bus when the going gets tough. It happened when Margaret Thatcher booted out Ted Heath in 1975 and it happened to Thatcher herself when the party booted her out in 1990, to name but two examples.
It’s a proud tradition of backstabbing and slimy political manoeuvring that continues to this day. We all remember the wonderful loyalty and tact of the ever so honourable Michael Gove don’t we?
It was in the midst of the 1990 Conservative leadership contest that TV audiences were introduced to Francis Urquhart, the original fourth wall breaking Machiavellian genius, who took inside the ugly world of politics in the original House of Cards.
Following the resignation of Margaret Thatcher and the election of a new Prime Minister, Tory chief whip Francis Urquhart is angered when the new leader declines to award him a high-ranking cabinet position. Resolving to get his revenge, Urquhart manipulates and backstabs his way around Westminster to destroy the new Prime Minister’s government and eventually take the top job for himself.
It’s a shame that this series has become overshadowed by the hugely popular US adaptation starring Kevin Spacey because while that version is great fun and expands on the core themes in greater detail, the original British version of House of Cards is really a great series on its own and is well worth a revisit.
Ian Richardson takes on the role of Francis Urquhart, the manipulative anti-hero of the story. Kind, proper and loyal to his political colleagues in public, but sinister, spiteful, and power-hungry in private. Urquhart is a two-faced bastard plain and simple, but only we, the viewers, get to see both faces.
Richardson’s performance is easily the best thing about the series, with his very distinctive and hypnotic voice having a kind sort of grand theatrical quality to it, that really lends him an extra air of charm as well as darkness when lets the viewer in on his devious plans with the now iconic fourth wall breaks. Although some of the best breaks come when Urquhart says nothing at all, with a knowing smile or a suggestive look to the camera managing to pack a greater punch than a long monologue.
I must confess something that might put me very much Kevin Spacey’s shitlist (and that’s not a list you want to be on) but despite love of Spacey’s Frank Underwood in the US version, I would argue that Richardson is a far more engaging and likeable protagonist, which I feel makes him a much more unsettling villain.
Spacey’s Underwood often comes off as a tough bully type who you might expect will screw you over in the end. Richardson’s Urquhart, on the other hand, is just so damn charming that you couldn’t possibly imagine he would betray you. The type of guy who, even as he smiles and tells you how wonderful you are, is quietly sharpening his knives to stab into your back, and it’s this very quality, this likeable charm, is what makes him feel like a much more sinister villain.
Watching this version of the story, one can see where the US version gained much of its story from, especially the first season.
Instead of rookie reporter Zoe Barnes, we have rookie reporter Mattie Storinwith played by a terrific Susannah Harker, with the intimate conversations between her and Richardson retaining that same slightly creepy “I want to call you Daddy” type relationship that appears in the US version, although in this one it feels a lot more “icky” in this incarnation. Mattie even meets almost the exactly same fate as her US counterpart, but I won’t spoil it those who haven’t watched either version.
Instead of drunken congressmen Peter Russo, we have drunken coke-addled PR consultant Roger O’Neil brought to life by Miles Anderson in a very tragic performance as an abused man whose vices are used to control him. Again, this is one where the Americans seem to be using more than a passing influence on the way they tell their version of the story.
The overall feel of this version of the story feels much more theatrical in a way, with it definitely borrowing more heavily from the likes of Shakespeare’s Richard III, with Richardson’s very theatrical Shakespearian delivery only adding to this overall feeling. His opening line referring to Thatcher’s resignation and how “even the longest the most glittering reigns must come to an end someday” sounds like it could have been lifted from something written by The Bard.
Whereas the American version feels more modern and while still having that Richard III quality (a character played by both Spacey and Richardson on stage) it feels more like a conventional American political drama with its larger ensemble cast and varied storylines, almost as if it were a darker version of The West Wing.
Although despite liking this version of the story, I will admit that it passes by at a much slower pace, often feeling as long as a season of the American version despite being less than half the length at only 4 episodes long. This is something where the American version improves upon the original with its longer seasons and varied stories often moving at a faster pace that stops the viewer from feeling too bored.
While the American version might be more popular and a somewhat more enjoyable watch, the original British House of Cards is still an excellent tale of backstabbing, treachery and Machiavellian charm that’s well worth a revisit, if only to see Richardson’s’ deliciously devious turn and to see how be a proper backstabbing two-faced bastard.
Originally published June 8, 2017. Updated April 16, 2018.
