TV: House of Cards (1990) / To Play the King (1993) / The Final Cut (1995)

British trilogy of miniseries, each consisting of 4 one-hour episodes; loosely adapted into an American political context by Netflix beginning in 2013. All three miniseries are streaming in the US at Peacock, with the latter two identified as House of Cards: To Play the King and House of Cards: The Final Cut.

Ian Carmichael stars as Francis Urquhart, fictional Chief Whip (*) of the Conservative Party and a master of political scheming and manipulation. In the first installment of the trilogy, Francis maneuvers his way into becoming the party's new Prime Minister. To Play the King finds him confronting the new King -- never given a more specific name than "the King," but clearly modeled on then-Prince Charles -- who has the audacity to express political opinions in public; even worse, the King's opinions do not align with those of Francis and his Conservative government. The Final Cut begins at the (fictional) funeral of Maggie Thatcher -- in reality, she would live for another 18 years -- as Francis approaches her record as the longest-serving post-war Prime Minister.

(* -- There's no real equivalent to this position in the US government, but it's sort of as if the Speaker of the House was a Cabinet official who had a lot more insitiutional force and tradition behind him to hold members of his party in line on key votes.)

When Michael Dobbs wrote the novel that served as the source for the first miniseries, he had no thought of continuing it; he actually killed off Francis at the end of the book. But the TV version was so popular that Dobbs was forced to ignore that death to write the novels that were adapted as the second and third installments in the series.

When this began airing, 36 years ago, it must have felt like pure escapism. Surely politics wasn't this  viciously nasty and cruel in the depths of its conniving and struggling for power, but there was a naughty thrill in imagining that it might be. Watching it these days, I suspect it plays more darkly than it once did; if there's any escapism left in it these days, it probably takes the form of longing for the good old days when this was as bad as it got.

Whatever the era and however the story might compare to the politics of the real world, the great constant of the series is Ian Carmichael's magnificent performance. Francis frequently breaks the fourth wall to directly address the audience, commenting on the stupidity of political colleagues and rivals, the ease of manipulating the media, and (of course) his own unparalleled political brilliance. It's a performance of silky smarm and oozing charisma, and remains one of television's towering achievements. 

The supporting players don't quite rise to that level, but there are fine performances among them. Susannah Harker shines in House of Cards as a naive young reporter who trusts Francis too much for her own good; Michael Kitchen finds the precisely correct mix of smug self-satisfaction and genuine concern for his people as the King in To Play the King; and throughout, Diane Fletcher performs her own subtle manipulation as Francis's wife, a Lady Macbeth manque who takes on a steadily increasing role in the scheming, truly coming into her own in The Final Cut.

At heart, this is trashy soap opera, Dallas set in the world of British politics instead of Texas oil. But it's the classiest possible version of trashy soap opera, and it's a grand good time.