Feet slap on wet steps as investigators march through a storm cloud of reporters and into the Capitol. Frank testifies on his “polite dinner conversations” with Lanagin about money laundering anything but money laundering. Frank gets more Southern and folksy when he testifies. Why, he wouldn’t know a money laundering scheme from Adam’s out ox! And speak about a super PAC? My stars, never! Frank whips on a seersucker suit and drinks a tall, cool glass of lemonade as he fans himself and offers around a plate of collard greens.
Meanwhile, Tricia Walker backs out of a joint interview with Claire. You know, just until the scandal dies down. Claire quietly vows to eat Tricia’s liver first. No, wait-to eat most of her liver, then let it regenerate, then eat it again. Oh, dear. Tricia is being a coward on such a small scale, and she’s going to go down so very hard for it. Tricia says she’ll help… somehow… quietly.
Back at the deposition, oh, Shesus, everyone is saying “backchanneling” one million times again, like it’s that Bloody Mary game, only they think that if they say “backchanneling” enough times Feng will appear in the mirror. Frank dances the sidestep like crazy. He seems to be managing some pretty good plausible deniability, which I guess is the good thing about everyone switching tacks halfway through: It makes real motives hard to latch onto.
Seth walks with Claire. He doesn’t want her big interview to happen; the interviewer is powerful enough that they can’t dictate questions. Claire wants to refocus attention on her bill, but Seth is pretty sure an interview right now will hurt Claire and the bill. Claire wonders if a new target might be useful. Oh, holy balls, it’s about to get real. Real scary, that is.
Frank is still being special prosecuted, and he’s just wrapped up his story about the bridge. Oh, ick, the investigative team has talked to 194 members of Congress. Not enough massages and aromatherapy candles in the world to counteract that. Frank deftly gets the chief prosecutor, Heather Dunbar, to spill that Bob Birch gave her some useful testimony. Frank tells us that Tusk could have bought Birch off easily.
Ms. Dunbar, with a little prodding, neatly outlines the whole mess, then tops it with a picture of Doug, fully manifested at Lanagin’s casino. Frank stonefaces while he tries to figure out his next move.
Doug is testifying in his own way, talking to a 12-step meeting about Rachel. He says she feels like alcohol when he was drinking-something he can’t put down until he has too much… She’s like a daughter… She’s like his mother… Doug speaks for all of us when he says the situation is fucked up. Yikes, Doug. Yikes.
Frank’s counsel is stalling the special prosecutor, saying Frank can’t answer everything right away because of, um, national security. Ms. Dunbar warns Frank that he isn’t insulated. Frank walks down the Capitol steps past throngs of reporters. He can’t stand the indignity of it all. “When you’re fresh meat,” he says, “Kill, and throw them something fresher.” RUN, EVERYONE, RUN.
At the end of his meeting, Doug meets Fitz, who offers to be his sponsor. Doug, ever the charmer, takes Fitz’s card and leaves without saying goodbye.
Remy rides with Lanagin, who is in a state because auditors are all up in his stuff. And Lanagin is pretty sure that Tusk is throwing him under the bus. Remy outlines the situation: Should Lanagin find himself under a multi-passenger vehicle and quietly kiss some wheel, he and his family gets taken care of. If Lanagin dodges the bus, takes a plea bargain, and rats out Tusk, his family gets nothing.
Lanagin says Tusk must be afraid or Remy wouldn’t be there. Remy says it’s Lanagin who’s panicking; thus the don’t-be-stupid visit. It’s not in the frame or ever referred to, but I bet Lanagin’s dog is still really happy about that day when it got to jump in the pool and eat a $400 cut of meat. I bet some days it just lies on its back, half-dozing in the sun, making little swimmy movements with its feet and drooling at the memory. The reason all dogs are filled with such hope is that they whisper to each other about days like that.
Back in the international human crisis, Walker says he put a carrier group near Okinawa-not so close as to invite direct conflict, but near enough for the Chinese to hear the whoomp whoomp whoomp of dicks being swung. The Secretary of State will inform the Chinese ambassador and some wonk worries about our stockpile of Sumerians. Meeting over.
Walker and Frank stay behind. Frank minimizes the danger, but Walker is freaked out about how long it’s taking. Walker notices Frank fidgeting with the spot where his ring used to be and Frank admits that he buried it. Walker is lightly weirded out, and he hasn’t even heard about Augustus Underwood. Frank deflects by telling the President how tired he looks. Walker leaves and Frank gives in to stress for just a moment. He feels as exposed as the soft skin where his ring used to be.
Photo by Nathaniel Bell. Image courtesy of Netflix
Frank wants to know where the hell Doug is and is not amused to hear that he’s in a meeting. Frank fidgets at the spot where his ring used to be. Oh, and Remy sent his watch back, the one with the Churchill quote engraved on it. No message, just the watch. Frank wants Doug.Remy is in California, rivaling Doug in his manifestation frequency. He’s visiting Jackie Sharp’s one-time friend and sponsor, Ted Havemeyer. Havemeyer, having lost everything, is selling his house and moving. But, to be honest, he’s bearded and relaxed and seems way happier than he did in Congress. Remy lies that he wants to hire Jackie as a lobbyist if she loses the election. Remy says he’s looking for a killer instinct. Speaking of which, what exactly did she do to Congressman Havemeyer…?
Doug, having been found and forced to teleport in, says that he paid for his ticket to Lanagin’s casino in cash and was very careful. (Except for getting caught on camera clear as day and banging that waitress and leaving her his 10-year chip…) Frank can’t believe that Doug has slid all the way to mostly effective from omnipotent, and asks Doug if he’s drinking again. Doug accepts the blame for everything ever, but Frank isn’t done and reminds Doug that if they fail, they’ll die in a cage. I think Doug may be Frank’s Cashew. Frank reminds Doug that he already gave him a second chance 14 years ago. (Really? 14 perfect years of evil and the slate never gets wiped clean? Those are some high employment standards.)
Doug says that nothing is more important than his work for Frank, that he can handle this, and things will be different. Frank, having thoroughly screwed with Doug’s head, gives him a third chance. Doug is grateful, because Stockholm Syndrome. Serves him right.
Photo by Nathaniel Bell. Image courtesy of Netflix
Frank sends Doug to find Remy. Teleportation chase scene! *BAMF!* *BAMF!* *BamBAMF!* Trust me, it’s very exciting. Doug says he’ll take responsibility with the special prosecutor, but Frank says they both will. They’ll meet with Dunbar tomorrow.
Frank arrives at Murky Towers to a gentle whooshing sound, which he is used to. But it’s not Claire spinning straw into gold this time, and it’s not Claire effortlessly whipping the tendons out of the legs of her rivals. No, this time it’s something unusual: Claire using the rowing machine. She’s burning off energy because she can’t go running given the current death-threat situation. Meechum helped her carry the rowing machine up to their bedroom. Frank seems just the teeniest bit jealous. Claire reminds him that Meechum is her human shield, so chill out.
Then Claire turns serious and asks how bad it all is. Spoiler: Real bad. That picture of Doug at the casino is going to be hard to get around. Frank says he’s going to have to tell the truth… selectively. Frank starts to leave and Claire stops him because she can tell that he’s scared. Frank turns back around because you do not turn your back on Claire when she has sensed your vulnerability. You put a sturdy iron collar around your neck and you edge away from her while holding at least a broadsword.
Frank puffs up his neck crest to look bigger and says “500 meters at 139. That was my best. Shoot for that,” because he knows that Claire will be unable to resist beating him. Speaking your fitness stats to a dragon is like scattering grain in front of a vampire; they have to deal with it immediately. Claire tucks in.
The next day, Megan rides in a state car past thousands of angry anti-abortion protesters outside of Murky Towers. Oh, no, she’s going to get eaten. Megan disingenuously asks if she can take off her heels and Claire knows this is going to be too easy. She asks for Megan’s help: She needs a public face who isn’t in the middle of abortion and infidelity scandals. Megan tries just a tiny moment of “Why Me?” Good luck with that.
Doug brings Seth in to begrudgingly tell him he’s doing a good job, and they need to be a team now to protect the Vice President. Rachel is not Doug’s only disturbing relationship. Doug needs Seth to find Remy and help him sift 10 years of Frank’s travel logs, looking for anything that could hurt them. Um, maybe watch the murdery parts there, Doug.
Doug scrolls through his phone and deletes Rachel’s contact information. Then he yanks the SIM card and crushes the phone. Can Nancy order him a new one? Thanks.
Back at Gavin’s lair, a new little warning signal is of sudden interest. Looks like someone’s tracking just halted. For now.
In the Oval Office, Frank has started his selective truth-telling campaign, claiming that he sent Doug down to the casino because of a gut feeling that something was shady. The President is so pissed at the spectre of impeachable offenses that he’s actually buying Frank’s story of conducting independent investigations from his Mystery Machine. Frank says he was concerned about laws and midterms and protecting the President. Walker doesn’t want to encourage deeper investigation.
Say, Frank has a totally spontaneous idea: He’ll turn over all of his travel logs as a gesture of good faith and cooperation. Maybe the President should too! Walker is not crazy about that, since those travel logs will show his marriage counseling sessions. Frank tells us he should be worried, then turns to the President and says he shouldn’t. Heh.Jackie Sharp walks into a lobby… where Remy is waiting. It takes him about three sentences to start threatening her about revealing what she did to Havemeyer while she’s in the middle of a tough race.
Which would be really effective if Jackie Sharp gave one single rat butt. She is made of ice and gumption and she does not care for being threatened. Hey, Remy-remember that part where she killed a bunch of people?
Remy tries to get her to set up a meeting with Frank, on the books, then perjure herself and shank him with the special prosecutor.
Jackie isn’t knuckling under to Frank’s threats, and she sure as hell isn’t knuckling under to Remy’s. She’d much rather set the whole woods on fire: Jackie tells Romy go ahead and tell whomever he wants about Havemeyer. She and Freddy may be the only people on this show who owns what they do. I love her. Jackie doesn’t even bother with feeling disgusted-either for Remy for his sleazitude or with herself for dallying with him. She just closes up and walks away. Eyes forward.
Doug and Frank confab in the early morning light. The President is turning over everything, including the visits to the shady marriage counselor. A great big bomb, right in the middle of everything. Frank’s travel records are clean -Doug and Seth would stake their lives on it. (And Doug, at least, knows how literal that turn of phrase is with the Underwoods.) Doug swallows a sliver of pride and praises the statement Seth prepared. They’re going to blast it out and beat Dunbar to the punch. Doug heads off to shower and tells Seth to take a nap.
Megan does the interview on her own. She talks about how hard it was to testify in front of General McGinnis. She’s nervous. And the reporter knows that she’s had a history of mental and emotional issues since her attack. Megan spins that well, talking about what being assaulted by one of your own can do to you. She says McGinnis didn’t only betray her; he betrayed his country by depriving it of a good Marine. The reporter switches tack to Claire’s assault bill, noting that fellow veteran Jackie Sharp opposes it. Megan says Sharp is betraying her country too. Uh-oh.
Frank walks to meet Ms. Dunbar-HOW DID THEY MAKE THE CAPITOL SO DARK??-and is confident and raring to go. Uh-oh.
Tusk meets Remy while he’s in mid-haircut. Tusk gets a mostly good rundown of their plotting, but Remy says he can’t get anything good on Sharp. Which, hmm, is not strictly true. Tusk won’t take no for an answer. He wants Frank attacked on multiple fronts, and that’s got to include a high-profile Congressperson, and that means Sharp. Remy could not look more disgusted with himself or Tusk.
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, EVERYBODY STOP SAYING “BACKCHANNEL.” Sorry. I just never appreciated all the words that have synonyms before. We’re back at Frank’s testimony and Dunbar has had enough of this bulldander. She says she knows Feng was money laundering and it’s just a matter of lining up the proof now. So did Frank know, or what? Oh, his stars and garters, no! Why, he’d sooner feed shoo-fly pie to an old hound dog. Frank says he did “sense that something was awry,” which is priceless, and thus sent Junior Crime Dog Doug to investigate.
Frank says he takes full responsibility for his staff’s behavior. Doug says he found bupkus during his extensive investigation of that one waitress. And poor Frank-well, how could you have expected Frank to go to one of the numerous potential proper authorities when he just didn’t know if his allegations had any basis in fact? Frank says he was “misguided,” and takes personal responsibility for, um, mistakes.
Dunbar is no dummy; she suspects she’s getting a highly edited version of the truth, if one can even call it that. And that’s when Frank whips it out. No, no: his travel log. So Dunbar can see every single meeting, except for maybe that last one with Zoe and one or two others. Dunbar is still skeptical, but she has to accept this and she hates it so much.
Oh, dear. Megan is telling Claire how great she did as she gets more manic and press-hungry by the second. Claire wonders whether it’s nerves and allergy medicine or, you know, maybe crystal meth. Megan has the loudest spill of pills in the world and Claire, gliding in to help out, realizes just how many meds Megan is on. Claire scoots her out the door and then sits quietly with a glass of wine, sending swirling tendrils of smoke ahead into infinite possible futures, calculating and recalculating odds.
Frank steps into the crowd of reporters like he is secretly banging their moms, telling them he had a great interview with Ms. Dunbar. Doug is immediately on the horn with Seth, telling him to send out that press statement.
Meechum returns to Murky Towers just as Claire drops her wine glass. He steps in to help her clean up and immediately cuts himself because there is more light at the bottom of the Marinara Trench than in the Underwoods’ kitchen. Claire goes to get some bandages.
Frank, Doug, and Seth confer in Frank’s office, which he keeps exactly as dark as his kitchen. I guess it’s his way of staying mentally in touch with Claire? Doug says he’ll issue a statement saying he acted on his own and will take full responsibility; he can handle it. Seth goes to print it out. Doug found Remy. Frank gives him one paltry “You’ve done good work” and leaves. Doug picks up his new phone, then scrolls through the R section of his computer contacts. He picks up Fritz’s card and leaves.
Back in the dim, pea-soup light of Murky Towers, Claire tenderly bandages Ed Meechum’s hand. He tries to leave, and Claire offers him some wine. He is off-duty, after all. Ed’s too shy to try their good wine-good instincts, Ed; it’s bloodwine-but he does agree to a little bourbon. Claire measures him up, then goes to get it. Ed dimly realizes that he now knows how rabbits feel, but he can’t think why he knows it or what he should do.
Remy sits in a darkened church. Jesus Christ, what time is it? Is it day or night or what? Has there been an eclipse all day? Has the billowing smoke of Tusk’s factories blotted out the sun? I THINK it is day, because the stained-glass windows are showing and then apparently COMPLETELY STOPPING some light, but I just have no idea anymore. We’ll call it night.
Frank fumbles his way down the aisle, bonking and caroming between the pews, until he finally just uses his dragon powers and finds Remy by sonar and sits down one pew behind him. Well, close enough.
Remy and Frank quote Winston Churchill and the back of Remy’s watch: “To improve is to change. To perfect is to change often.” Remy is on paid leave from Tusk and wants some career options. He’s not actually offering to help Frank, but he’s offering to pull punches. He’ll hurt enough to look like he’s fighting, but he won’t work to break the Underwoods. And then he’ll jump to whoever wins the fight. Remy is a practical man, but ick.
Frank immediately guesses that this is about Jackie. Remy deflects, saying that this is about his future, and Jackie’s not a part of that. Let’s hope not. Frank gives the watch back to Remy as a token of good faith.
Frank tells us that he knows Remy is protecting Jackie. And that Remy has made the disastrous error of not realizing how deeply she has pissed the Underwoods off. Oh, crap. I’d type “RUN, JACKIE, RUN,” but I don’t think that’s in her nature.
Someone, completely in silhouette, takes a moment of stress and dry-swallows a pill. Let’s assume it’s President Walker and call it a day.
Ed Meechum and Claire are laughing in the Underwood kitchen, having done some sturdy work on the bourbon. Frank walks in, takes a drink, and checks Meechum’s still-bleeding hand. Claire disappears to get a new bandage while Frank calms Meechum, then checks his hand with a little more care than is strictly necessary.
Claire floats in to see how Frank is doing with his gift. She hands him the bandage and Frank tends to Ed’s hand, gentle but teasing. Claire spots Meechum’s hand resting on Frank’s and send a quick telepathic message. She bends to kiss Meechum’s hand, then leans back to let Ed kiss her throat as Frank moves in to kiss Claire. When the Underwoods finally break their kiss, Meechum hesitates, and then kisses Frank.
I believe the Underwoods have found an outlet for their stress.
This scene captures so much of what I love about House of Cards. Not just the way it deals so matter-of-factly with sexual fluidity, though that is definitely a big thing. I saw so many pieces after the first season suggesting that Frank was “really” gay after the episode where he goes back to his alma mater, as though he was giving Zoe all that enthusiastic head just for the cardio. In fact, Frank’s sexuality is just another proof that you cannot understand the Underwoods in binary. People make their most disastrous mistakes in assuming that they know what Frank and Claire are, that they are definitely one thing and definitely not another, when in fact much of their power lies in their ability to shapeshift.
You can’t even really say that Frank and Claire are evil-some of the worst things Claire has done are in the service of her water project, or of getting her anti-assault bill passed. “Good and Evil” is just one possible axis that the Underwoods fly right above.
But what I love even more about this scene and this show is that it rewards paying attention. Back in my first recap, I joked that Ed and Doug both have crushes on Frank because of tiny nuances in their dialogue and the way they played it. But of course that wasn’t just an odd moment or a bit of playfulness on the show’s part. Doug does have an unhealthy relationship with Frank, and Ed did, whether he knew it or not, have a crush on Frank. And paying attention to the little touches of information dropped in here and there pay off hugely now, a full ten episodes later.
And throughout the show, one of the other great strengths of the Underwoods is that they pay attention. Claire watches Ed’s loyalty and his just-too-enthusiastic service until she knows he’s ready to be groomed and seduced. Frank notes that President Walker pays attention to Christina’s ideas and passes that tiny needle of information to Claire, who uses it to loosen just enough mortar in just the right spot to send their marriage crashing down. And throughout the process they tap and nudge, checking in with each other with just a glance. The Underwoods don’t just get ahead because they’re more ruthless. They get ahead because they notice more, and tuck it away in their dragon hoards until it’s time to use it.
Oh, shit. Doug didn’t call a sponsor after all. He just showed up at the Depression Arms. He’s about to knock when he hears the sounds of extremely enthusiastic Bible study.
To be clear here: Doug does not use his key to get in and then hear the sounds of ladysex through the bedroom door. Doug can hear the sounds of womanly congress right through the front door. That is some shoddy construction, Depression Arms management. Or some astonishingly heavy breathing. Maybe it’s hay fever season?
Doug walks around to a window and Jesus Christ, ladies, really? With the blinds open? In your ground-floor apartment? This isn’t Pretty Little Liars. That said, everyone but Doug seems to be having a very pleasant evening, so what the hell.
Morning at Murky Towers. The Underwoods, having shaken the rust off and shed their old skins, feel refreshed and renewed, stretching happily. You can tell they feel especially good because they’re actually letting some sun in.
Frank solicitously inquires as to Claire’s head after all that bourbon, and says he himself slept like a baby. “Good,” says Claire. “You needed that.” This is what true dragonlove looks like. Think about that the next time you just make your significant other dinner.
Back in the Halls of Justice, one of Dunbar’s underlings finds the trap that the Underwoods laid so carefully and then covered with such a deliberately paltry layer of leaves: One address keeps popping up in the President’s travel logs.
Frank steps out of Murky Towers and into the sunshine, the protesters just a dull noise in the background, barely even flies. He greets Ed Meechum with formality-good on you, Meechum, for keeping it together-and then steps into his Vice Presidential car and zooms away.
The Underwoods’ fortunes are turning. They have fed on others and now they can fly again. We’ll see how high next week.
