Poornima Manco

Author

TV series

Unfinished business

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I hate leaving things incomplete, whether that is chores, books or relationships. Nearly everything I start, I like to finish (or at least finish in my mind). It is a personal quirk of mine, and can be quite an annoying one, especially if you have to suffer through an argument where I refuse to give up till I have the last word. Ask my husband.

I’ve always known that I have this trait, but I was reminded of this quite recently when it came to a television show I’d been watching. ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ is a show I’d invested in quite heavily. Aside of the excellent book it is based upon, and the terrifying parallels it displayed of the world we live in currently, I thought it had been translated brilliantly to the small screen. The first season at any rate. The second season went beyond the source material, and for a while, exhibited all the signs of soaring beyond the original text to something deeper, darker, with even more resonance. Then I saw the end, and without spoiling anything for anyone wishing to watch the show, the victim turned vigilante twist was a little too much to stomach.

Never mind, I thought. The third season is bound to be better. I struggled through the first six episodes, slowly and quietly getting desensitised to the horrific, brutal acts against the women in the show. Wasn’t I meant to be appalled, to be enraged? Why was it having this counter-intuitive effect on me? Still, I carried on watching, in the hope that this now depressing tale would offer me some glimmer of hope.

After episode six I went on holiday. When I came back, I completely forgot to watch the rest of the season being broadcast on catch-up television. Upon finally remembering that oh yes, I still have seven odd episodes to watch, I was mildly annoyed to discover that I could only pick it up from episode 10 onwards. This is where my conundrum lies.

Do I just forget about the entire thing, as I wasn’t really enjoying it anymore? The only thing that had me hooked was the stellar cast, but the storyline itself was so mired in confusion and sado-masochism that it had put me right off. Or, should I just pick up from episode 10 and see it through till the end, filling the gaps with guesswork?

Sadly, I’m unable to do either. I hate leaving things unfinished, even shows that aren’t grabbing me anymore, especially if I’ve invested a significant amount of time in them. Nor am I one of those people who skim watches stuff, quite content to ignore the minutiae that the story is built upon. So, what do I do?

I have abandoned just one book in recent history. A book that had me so depressed that I was physically unable to turn another page. Guess what? That bothers me still. Particularly as it’s hailed as a modern classic, and I wasn’t able to finish it!!

Which also highlights the irony of my own writing journey. My stories rarely have all loose ends tied up, I often leave the ending open to interpretation and they are largely quite dark in their subject matter. Do I have any right to complain then if someone leaves midway through my book? I guess not.

Life is messy and unpredictable. With the best will in the world, not everything one starts will be completed. And that’s okay. As long as you are enjoying the journey, little else matters.

As for my show, I’m just going to wait for the entire thing to drop on Amazon Prime, and then over a weekend, a bottle of wine and a bag of crisps, pick up where I left off. If the end doesn’t please me, I won’t bother with season 4. There’s way too much life to be lived, without worrying about unfinished business…

 

 

 

Why HOC collapses under its own weight

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*Spoiler alert!* If you haven’t yet seen the 6th season of House of Cards and intend to, DO NOT PROCEED!!

Machiavelli married to Lady Macbeth is how I always viewed House of Cards. The machinations, the manipulations, the sheer genius and evil of this power couple was enough to keep me hooked, season after season. Yes, some of the plot lines were absurd, some so far fetched that it took a huge suspension of disbelief to swallow them, but despite all that, it was a riveting and fascinating insight into politics and power play in the U.S. Capitol.

Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright were the hugely talented duo on which the series revolved. Him, the dark, scheming, scrabbler from the wrong side of the tracks. Her, the icy cool, rich and privileged blonde with ambition and fire to match his. Both unscrupulous, both with their eyes on the ultimate prize: the presidency. Their internal rivalry, their disposal of their external rivals, their scheming, their successes and failures, their attempts to outdo one another, their unpredictability, their compulsions and their respective and combined journeys to the White House, was a thrilling roller coaster ride that allowed the viewer to be hypnotised and scandalised in equal measure.

Spacey’s untimely departure from the series due to the surfacing of past sexual misdemeanours must have come as a massive blow to Netflix. Although season 6 was always meant to be the last season of the show, how could they possibly fill the very large space vacated by one of the principal characters of the show?

Before I go any further with my analysis of what went wrong with the last season, let me address two things. One: Kevin Spacey got what was coming. In dropping him from the show, Netflix did the right and honourable thing. Second: Robin Wright is an incredible actress in her own right, and there was never any doubt in my mind that she would be able to carry the show on her very slim shoulders, very capably.

So, what did go wrong?

The writing is what went horribly wrong. The ghost of Frank Underwood/Kevin Spacey lingered for far too long. His death under suspicious circumstances seemed to take centre stage, then retreat, then return and basically never allowed the series to progress. One step forward, two steps back, seemed to be the subconscious mantra. Claire Underwood had her own share of challenges, none more so than the team of writers who couldn’t make up their minds on how to portray her. No longer the perfect foil to her patently ambitious husband, what was she now? A pseudo feminist, a power grabber, a war mongerer, an earth mother or a cold blooded killer?

Worse still were the new power couple who were meant to be her adversaries. A brother/sister pair that were suddenly presented to us as the ones who had been pulling the strings behind the scenes all along. Not convincing at all. When that meandering storyline seemed to flounder, Underwood’s old buddy, his Chief of Staff, Doug Stamper, was resurrected. Still suffering from slavish devotion to his deceased employer, was he the man that would ultimately bring Claire down?

The eight episodes of the last season were confusing, convoluted and contrived. None of the characters, Claire Underwood included, seemed to be able to hold the audience’s attention or sympathy. Working with material such as this, Robin Wright showed flashes of brilliance, but ultimately the series sank into a morass of its own making, and there was little she could do to rescue it.

A fresher slant, a newer perspective and a team of writers who could have dispensed with the long shadow cast by Spacey over the last season, might have created a fitting end to a series that gave meaning to the old adage, ‘power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely’. Instead, all it showed was that ultimately, a house of cards has to collapse, and this one does under the weight of its own pretensions.