Whispers of Power

“We do not fear terror. We are the terror.”

The house of Claire and Frank Underwood appears to collapse, and then they utter these words.

This climactic scene that ends the show’s fourth season, and we are left afraid and uncertain.

A timely message given that, in today’s political climate, we are also left wondering whether there is anything past fear and uncertainty.

Innocent waves to the crowd turn into something more ominous in this week’s drawing.

After more fierce fighting, the Underwoods are back on stage again. They have vowed to fight for the presidency with Frank as President and Claire as VP, a teaming previously unthinkable.

Have the rules changed? Have their cards?

Every hero needs a villain. Viktor Petrov is the gray, cold, Russian counterpart to Frank Underwood.

The confrontation shown here, with Viktor’s face on the big screen, triggers an instinctive fear and impulse to overcome. In this moment we identify with Frank.

The moral line that usually separates us from him evaporates, and we only want to see Viktor fail.

Is there ever more distance between two intimates than when they are sitting on opposite sides of a bargaining table?

The discomfort between Frank Underwood and his wife Claire has reached its climax. Their once close relationship has become a mere formality, driven by pure protocol and personal power play.

The vertical line down the center of the image divides and separates each into their own space. Is this the end for them?

The quietest moment in the story is a poetic one.

Separated from his wife Claire, Frank Underwood faces true loneliness.

In this image, the darkness threateningly creeps up from behind him, as his sole companion and most faithful ally has disappeared.

In this scene, we see the vast space between Frank Underwood and his wife Claire.

Their marriage-cum-political alliance is at its breaking point. Is there, for either of them, any difference between self-preservation, strategic power play, and true courage?

The US Presidency, depicted here in its symbolism and drama.

After a frustrating negotiation with the Russian president, Frank Underwood takes a stand.

In this image, we are invited to see Frank as a kind of savior. Or is it just the American people who are invited to do so, while we viewers see through the smoke and mirrors to his true character?

Newly minted president Frank Underwood faces international matters.

This image depicts his literal standoff with the Russian president, Viktor Petrov.

A surfboard stands erect between them, while a funny moment takes a dark turn.

oes this symbol suggest – or poke fun at – the idea that politics is a man’s world?

After fighting his way to the presidency, Frank Underwood moves forward with his plans.

magining a cooperative and supportive administration, he is surprised to find that they see him as a stepping stone, an intermediate solution until their next, real candidate can be elected and installed.

How can he win them, and the American people, over?

The high peak, end of season two.

Now, Francis is President. Standing in the area of power, behind the presidential desk, he knocks two times at the table.

Then it’s all black.

Now the door opens to the most admired room of power, the oval office.

Francis dream becomes true.

Supported by Claire, he takes the last step on its his own. The time stands still and roles are shifting.

Francis is meeting his rival, down a cellar, while a Puccini opera is played on stage upstairs.

Two shadows at the end of the tunnel, after month of heavy intrigues and fierce positioning, Francis takes it all and the door towards the oval office becomes more open.

An amazing image, embodying the delicate and complex relationship between Frank (Kevin Spacey) and Claire Underwood (Robin Wright).

Frank learns that a general, whom he is now to honor at a public ceremony, raped his wife when the two attended college together.

The viewpoint, we take as observers, is extraordinary. After we witness him commit a murder to keep his own secrets, we are reminded of Frank’s genuine loyalty, compassion, and humanity.

Or is it merely a double standard?

Conspiracy at its best. An empty space, literally underground. The lines of Harry Weese’s famous subway stations pull Frank Underwood (Kevin Spacey) and Zoe Barnes (Kate Mara) together, while the pillar reveals the tenseness and separation between them. We are pulled so close in this frame that we experience ourselves as a third participant and conspirator.

The moment it all begins.

Here, Francis Underwood (Kevin Spacey) understands that his bid for Secretary of State, a crucial step on his path to an eventual Presidency, has failed.

He is trapped in the corner of the room, which you can see behind his back. At the left, two lamps cast a warm light on a portrait of George Washington, whose footsteps he’ll now be unable to follow.

It’s a surprisingly delicate portrayal of a violent breaking point.