Can’t remember exactly when it was. Definitely a few years back. I was shopping around, you know, consuming-to-survive, and there was this DVD set priced real cheap of House of Cards. The original, btw, not the #Americant rip-off. I bought it and ripped it to my home server and never watched one show. A few days later, also while consuming-to-survive, I happened across another DVD set but this time, kinda throwing me for a loop, it was of the #Americant version of House of Cards. What the heck, I thought. Like the original British version, the #Americant version was cheap and I had plenty of space on my server for more ripped nonsense and, of course, plenty of spendable income. So I consumed it and the cashier smiled at me and I swear the old bat tried to flash me cleavage as I finished my electronic payment and she obviously admired my finger tips pressing those little keys on the the POS card reading device. Nomatter.
Of the two season of the #Americant version of House of Cards, I binge-watched the first season, albeit reluctantly. But get this: after S01E01 and the first time Frank Underwood, aka Kevin Spacey, broke the fourth wall, I was turned off. I only continued to watch the show because of all the support characters that seemed so much cooler/better but also unsupported–probably because of Spacey. And that’s what worst-writing is all about, right? The underdog? The less talented? Being an underling? But that’s neither here nor there.
Spacey not only broke the fourth wall but also, IMHO, broke the role. Or are you impressed with a regurgitated and unoriginal Southern version of Richard “Dick” Nixon? But don’t worry–if you’re a Spacey fan that probably means nothing to you. Kevin Spacey is but one of many hollywood-ers that bears the mantle of ACTOR–but in reality is nothing more than a character stereo-type of his/her self. That is, he’s the kind of actor who doesn’t actually act but instead turns his deepest, most inner persona into whom it is he portrays. (Is that the proper use of “whom”?) This type of acting doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing, though. Al Pacino does it. Heck, Robert Dinero does it, too. Who doesn’t do it? Even though he didn’t change his physical appearance in anyway for the roles, Robert Downey Jr. doesn’t stereo-type his person even while playing totally unchallenging roles in the form of Iron Man and Sherlock Holmes. Or am I wrong there? Of course, I need not mention the likes of Brando or Daniel Day Lewis. You know, real actors. Actors that hone a craft as though the sharpness of a blade ain’t enough to cut through the filth of humanity or the like. Or. But. As usual. I’m gettin’ off subject.
Even though I knew that this new-fangled way of producing TV (netflix) wasn’t about remaking a grand British version of the show but instead doing what all non-doers do: it was/is but another way for compulsive behaviourists to find a way to rule the day. In other worst-words, it is the way otherwise ambitious peoples, who have no other means to make a living, simply fill a void and thereby label it work. That is, compulsive behaviourism is the new sickness of getting by without taking a moment to reflect on why/how you and your life is/has become so worthless. Spacey, a two-bit actor at best, obviously did a grand job at bringing the dumb-downed #Americant audience closer to British cynicism, i.e. the British way of dealing with the ugly-truth/fact that they still have a fcuking queen running their $hitshow. But on that I should die-gress because it too will lead me waaaaaay off subject.
My worst-point with this confused worst-post is this: Kevin Spacey sucks not only as a person but as an actor. Yet, not unlike Harvey Weinstein, Spacey probably won’t be paying a high price for his heinous behaviour. For don’t you know, dear worst-reader, when worst comes to shove, worst always wins–that’s what compulsive behaviourism is all about. Now get back on your couch and let those with spendable income and useless-eating hunger consume it all to survive.
Or maybe not.
Link that motivated this post: