To Play the King

Francis Urquhart has risen through the ranks of Britain's Conservative Party and its political ranks to become Prime Minister. Now a new King is being crowned who stands opposed to everything Urquhart stands for. What happens when a liberally minded King and a conservative Prime Minister meet head to head in a battle for control of the UK's political life? That is the question that lies at the heart of To Play The King, the second miniseries in the House Of Cards trilogy.

Like its predecessor, if there is any single element that makes this miniseries as much of a success as it is, it is lead character, Francis Urquhart as played by actor Ian Richardson. Richardson plays Urquhart as a modern day (modern day being an alternate version of early 1990's UK) version of Shakespeare's Richard III as much as he did originally. Urquhart might be at the top, but he's determined to stay there at whatever cost as he tries first to use and then do battle with the King. Yet we begin to see the human side of this man as he haunted by the events at the end of House Of Cards and must face the possibility of treason by those closest to him. Once again, Richardson makes all this work incredibly well and makes Urquhart a man who is ruthless yet immensely charming and likable nonetheless. It is a compliment to Richardson and his skills that he can make it all work, especially the soliloquies, while being evil yet charming all at the same time.

Opposing Urquhart is the new King played by actor Michael Kitchen. Kitchen's King is a likable, charming liberally minded monarch who wants to use his place in the nation to help improve his country. When any and all of his ideas are tossed aside, the king is forced into a head to head confrontation with the Prime Minister. Kitchen plays the King as a man of principle who is really a simple man. In fact it his the King hopes that right equals might in taking on Urquhart that makes him a perfect antagonist and a worthy opponent indeed.

Backing both Richardson and Kitchen is once again a fine supporting cast. Returning from House Of Cards are Diane Fletcher as Urquhart's wife plus Colin Jeavons as Tim Stamper, who finds himself increasingly compromised and frustrated by Urquhart, who both give strong performances. Kitty Aldridge joins the cast as Sarah Harding who becomes a communications aide to Urquhart and while she gives a good performance, the relationship between her and Urquhart pushed believability in my mind. There's also Nicholas Farrell and Rowena King as the King's aides David Mycroft and Chloe Carmichael, respectively, who both find themselves having the help the King do battle and face becoming causalities themselves. There's also Nick Brimble as security man Corder and Bernice Stegers as the estranged Princess Charlotte who leave quite an impression with their brief appearances. Not forgetting Susannah Harker as Mattie Storin who, while only appearing in sound and film clips from House Of Cards, still looms large over the events that unfold. Like its predecessor, this miniseries is blessed by a fine cast backing its two leading men.

There's the production values as well. Many of those who worked on House Of Cards returned to this miniseries and their work is just as good here. Once again there's fine production design by Ken Ledsham who creates the worlds ranging from 10 Downing Street, Buckingham Palace, the Houses of Parliament, and beyond. There's also the cinematography of Jim Fyans and Ian Punter which once again brings a fine sense of atmosphere to the world of the miniseries. Last but not least here is once again the music by Jim Parker, especially with the main title and end title pieces which serve as a perfect start and closing to the four episodes of the miniseries. All of this, once again under the direction of Paul Seed, helps to make the miniseries stand up against its predecessor well indeed.

Which brings us to the script. Once again Andrew Davies adapts Michael Dobbs novel into a script that is less a political thriller then a political parable if not satire at times. Davies looks at what happens when the two opposing mind sets of a liberally minded King and a conservative Prime Minister meet head to head. The result is a battle of wits as the two men attempt through their various lieutenants to help their cause come out on top. It is a story about the modern process of media control and how that can clash with both the idealistic and the cynical alike. It is also a story that looks at how power effects those who hold it as Urquhart is haunted by the events at the end of House Of Cards and must face the possibility of treason by two of those closest to him. There's also a fair bit of satire as well covering the scandals of the royal family in the early 1990's and the media's reactions to them as well. The result is a script that isn't quite as gripping as House Of Cards but more thought provoking.

To Play The King is a fine successor to House Of Cards. From the performances of Richardson and Kitchen in the lead roles, a fine supporting cast, good production values and a well written script as well. While it is not the thriller the original was and is somewhat less gripping as a result, To Play The King works as something else instead. It is a parable about what happens when the liberally minded and the conservatively minded face each other head on. The result is thought provoking indeed.

Although weaker than House of Cards, To Play the King is consistently entertaining, perhaps more so than the other parts of the trilogy, which ended with The Final Cut.

Francis Urquhart has been PM (played by the wonderful Ian Richardson) for some time now, and he now faces a challenge in the new King (a compelling impersonation of Princes Charles by Michael Kitchen), who's views on Britain conflict wildly with Urquhart's. Added to this, Urquhart is engaging in an affair with Sarah Harding (Kitty Aldridge), a pollster, and seriously getting on the wrong side of his oldest friend and Chief Whip/Party Chairman Tim Stamper (played by Colin Jeavons, who almost steals the show from Richardson), who has incriminating evidence concerning Urquhart's involvement in the death of journalist Mattie Storin.

To Play the King carries on the Urquhart trilogy with great confidence. Despite the fact that it came three years after House of Cards, all of the recurring cast slip back into their roles with ease. The location work and music are also outstanding. However, the real weakness with this production is that Andrew Davies' script goes over old ground. The dialogue is naturally superb, but Urquhart's relationship with Harding is thin compared to the one between him and Mattie, and the ending strangely lacks the emotional edges of the other two in the series.

That said, To Play the King is highly enjoyable, and worth checking out if you were a fan (and who wasn't) of House of Cards.

Following his appointment as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, Francis Urquhart is rather plagued by guilt over the actions that got him there, while at the same time lacking a challenge to stimulate him in the way his political rivalries once did. This changes as the new King of England decides to throw his social conscience into the political ring, and as FU takes on a new 'slave' to inspire him and to tutor. The King's simplistic sentimentalizing of the plight of the poor leads FU to perhaps underestimate him, while he also remains unaware of the presence of a tape of his rooftop meeting that ended the previous series.

There is a certain meanness and cynicism in this BBC film that is perhaps lacking in the US version, and this second part of the House of Cards trilogy continues with that. The viewer remains drawn into FU's world and decisions in a way where we are confronted by his cold maneuvering, and this continues throughout the episodes. This time the opponent is the new King – a very thinly veiled version of Prince Charles; the reality of this power struggle is perhaps not totally convincing, but to be fair the previous episodes were fine to play up the cynicism in return for giving up a bit of realism. The plot plays out quite nicely, although it must be said that the show does benefit from only having 4 episodes and not the longer run that the US version has.

Outside of this, the series does rather repeat the model of the previous serial in that it places a young woman in FU's circle, sees an influential Afro-Caribbean woman playing a key role and also has a vulnerable male press role. It does have a certain familiarity to it, although mostly it does work on its own rights. The various plot twists and turns do not always convince; in particular the frequent bombings and the fate of some characters and devices go a little further than fits even the internal logic, but these are held together by the consistent spirit of meanness it has. A big part of that is Richardson's performance, which is attractive while also being repellant – much like his to-camera discussions which challenge the viewer to judge him. Equally good are Kitchen, Aldridge, King, and Farrrell – albeit that they have shadows of the previous series in their characters. Jeavons plays it well so that he builds from his position gradually and in a way that makes sense.

Generally the series works well because of how nicely scripted it is with a cynicism that applies across the political spectrum of all those involved. This is delivered with a certain drollness and a narrative that engages even if aspects of it feel repeated from the previous series.

Compared to the first House of Cards, this is a retread of familiar ground, far-fetched in spots, and fizzles out in the 'explosive' finale. It is still fun to watch, and together with Cards, a great primary text.

The narrative tension arises from the fact that the protagonist—Francis Urquhart, now Prime Minister after the events of the first one—is both an actor inside the story and the capricious narrator who in telling it attempts to control that story and his environment, Lolita-wise. (which Ian Richardson has not only known, as anyone in his trade can be expected to, but actually played on the stage, in Albee's Broadway version as apparently Nabokov himself)

We are roped in the story, by Urquhart making the camera a co- conspirator on his side.

This could have been of more interest than the first. The issue of co- conspiratorial viewing more ambiguously rears its head here, because mixed with parliamentary intrigue, the great deceiver is beginning to show signs of doubt and remorse, but knowing him to be a demagogue, can we trust him? Is he lucidly toying with us? Do we open up? It all comes back to Lolita, the seduced younger woman, his mirrored nemesis the current Chief Whip. It is good material, a good text to work from.

Alas, the same problem persists as in Cards.

Urquhart's doubt grows from memories of the first film, the whole Mattie Storin affair. If you haven't seen Cards, he has done something horrible even by his standards, and tormenting visions begin to seep into and disrupt his control.

Now there are two types of film when dealing with cinematic memory, mostly distinct of each other.

Films where memory is a narrative device and the reminiscing self fetches the images as insight into some past story, a category of which this is a part of, and can be relied on for a good jigsaw but hardly much else. Hitchcock usually worked in this way.

And films, much fewer, where true to the function of memory, images steal into the story as insight of the narrating self, images not always in the right order or logical that partly create the self. All the great films (as well as Lolita) fall in this latter category.

So the narrative is clean and logical, which the British do better than anyone. The acting is fine, Richardson above all. But, there is no reason whatsoever for Urquhart to be truly confiding to the viewer, especially now that we see aspects of Urquhart he does not control. Everyone else is being lied to, uncertain and fumbling, but we are not. This is as if Lolita was just a chronicle of mischiefs, missing layers.

'To Play the King', an adaptation of Michael Dobbs' novel of the same title, is superb as we are invited by the protagonist, PM Francis Urquhart to watch as he attempts to cling to his position of absolute power. Ian Richardson as the unscrupulous right-wing premier is magnificent and the cast are brilliant; stand-outs including Colin Jeavons as Stamper and Michael Kitchen as the socialist King.

Urquhart's direct-to-camera moments are memorable and the viewer can't help but admire the person we should in actual fact loathe. The action is at a break-neck pace and the plot builds up to a satisfying climax.

Is it better than House of Cards? As Urquhart would say:

"You might very well think that, I couldn't possibly comment."