Many storytelling aficionados will tell you that there is only one type of story that can be told, and that's one that revolves around conflict. An often heroic protagonist sets out on a quest to achieve a worthwhile goal, finds him or herself up against lots of obstacles and barriers along the way, finally achieves said goal, and in the end becomes richer from the experience. But as long as there have been stories, somewhere in the margins of popularity there has always existed a curiosity an interest with the opposite side of the story; what about the person setting the obstacles? Who really is this villain with their own devilish agenda?
Since arriving on screens in 2013, House Of Cards has not only revolutionised entertainment viewing with it's online presence and brought a new level of quality to the televisual medium - it has also served up one of the greatest televisual villains ever brought to the screen. Kevin Spacey's portrayal of the ruthless Machiavellian politician Frank Underwood has landed the character as an exceptionally reputation of the most memorable and questionable protagonists, a power-hungry man who will spare almost no cost in his acquisition of power. The obvious problem on the surface here, of course, is one the availability of relation; a viewers primary demand in consuming a piece of film or television is usually a request for the ability to sympathise and associate with the protagonist whose story they follow. But when it comes to House Of Cards, Frank's goals, and the means by which he seeks to accomplish them, are largely questionable and for the most part deplorable. So what is it that makes Frank so appealing?
When we first meet Frank his position as power-hungry as quickly made apparent; in the first two minutes he addresses the audience, stating that he has 'no patience for useless things,' before unhesitatingly strangling a wounded animal. From his rejection from the position of Secretary of State in the first episode he is established as an underdog in the world that he resides; while the title of House Majority Whip in the White House certainly isn't something to be disregarded, in the grand scope of Washington's political backdrop it is still a fair reach from his goal of the presidency and this could be where the viewers sympathy resides. We like to see an underdog seeking ascension. However, it could be something with deeper association than this. Frank's motivation for such a series of actions is one of revenge - he feels betrayed because he has been lied to and a promise denied from him, and viewer association could very easily lie here. In such an case, many people would feel a need for revenge, but few would act on it. Because of this, House Of Cards becomes a deliciously watchable show due to the pleasure of seeing acts of revenge and indulgence carried out.
Of course, with his place as a villain, one of the primary things to consider with regards to his character is development. In typical fiction, villains are the unshakable, the unchangeable and the unmoveable in their evil attributes, because that's the requirement for the existence of conflict. With an absence of a bad guy there's no conflict, and without conflict there's no story, which is why the bad guy must remain unchanged. But what about Frank's place as the villainous protagonist? In the true nature of the villain, he doesn't necessarily develop in the same fashion as an heroic protagonist, and this raises some interesting points with regards to traditional literary exposition and what takes the place of character development. Frank doesn't grow characteristically richer from the experience; he has one thing on his mind, and that's the acquisition of power. Instead of development we are presented with reactions and revelations. How does Frank react to discovering that he has to pin a medal onto the chest of the man who raped his wife decades ago? The answer would have been a fit of inexorable rage and violent political scandal had Clare not prevented him from doing anything. What does this reveal? It reinforces the fact of his loyalty towards Clare, as well as revealing that he is willing to throw away reputation and success in order to purge the dark side of his protective nature towards his wife. In Frank's world there is little development; only the Machiavellian state of mind that he possesses (or possesses him) and the way it makes him react, feeding us the steady reveal of the character.
Of course, to find villainous a wealth of memorable villainous protagonists, one needs to look no further than Shakespeare's bibliography. In particular, Othello's primary 'antagonist', Iago, reigns true as one of the most memorable villains in Shakespeare's work, not simply for his motiveless actions, but because of his primacy within the play; many critical discussions of Othello are very much based around the argument that Othello should have in fact been titled Iago due to the villains central nature within the plot. In this sense, it would appear that the prevalence of a villainous protagonist is one that has existed not only recently but for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. Even today the concept of the villain as protagonist is one that can be throughout contemporary television. Only last year did Vince Gilligan's masterwork Breaking bad come to a spectacularly conclusive ending, closing the tale of mild-manner teacher turned drug-lord Walter White, portrayed by none other than Bryan Cranston. In contrast to Frank, though, character development is indeed a prevalent aspect of Breaking Bad, if not the shows central factor; Walter White's steady transition to the egotistical full-form of Heisenberg will unquestionably go down as one of the most ingenious executions of character development on television, as the well-intentioned heroic protagonist turned into a destructive pseudo-monster before the viewerships' eyes.
The questions that arise from the intertwined topics of the protagonistic villain and the inclusion of character development are extensive and depthful. Frank's place as a protagonist with absolutely no intention of developing is as captivating to observe as is a protagonist who experiences well-executed development, but it appears that, for now, the villain hell-bent on making it to the top and maintaining his place there is unlikely to change his ways anytime soon.
