All in the matter of a week, I binge watched all 39 episodes of Netflix’s remake of the British miniseries ‘House of Cards,’ and I need a place to put my thoughts on it. So, here you are.

I’ll preface this simply. It’s rare that we find a piece of material that while dealing with civil matters, mostly legislative and diplomatic, is violent, thrashing, powerful, moving, angry, and as poignant as this. Hollywood and Television are lukewarm and, and the private sector of media has delivered one of the most watchable and discussed series available. While I will specifically attribute this to the show’s creative director, a Mr. Beau Willimon, credit is due to the program’s staff as a whole, in a myriad of directions.

By myriad of directions, I refer to the incredible diversity in both the cast’s performance in acting but in the willingness from the cast to both produce, direct and write the show. This ensemble of ideas, personalities, directions and prerogatives have produced a powerful and visceral product. I write this just to highlight my deep reverence for skilled production, and this program demonstrates not only entertainment value, but true, living production value that is rarely seen in contemporary media. This isn’t an Adam Sandler film, this is House of Cards.

While House of Cards accomplishes many things, one things it does not do is compromise or apologize. (Another nod to the incredibly talented Beau Willimon). The choice of inviting the skilled David Fincher to direct most of the episodes accounts for so much of the program’s success. Fincher brings drama into almost every single voyeur of a shot, like looking through a tumbling kaleidoscope. We don’t imagine congress and politics being so cut throat, but there is no shortage of blood and guts, both literally and figuratively, on Capitol Hill.

The cast is the icing on the cake. Kevin Spacey, Michael Kelly and Robin Wright all bring nothing but sheer kinetic power and emotion to the movement of the show. I must specifically commend Kevin Spacey. He has really displayed his range. If you watch a film like ‘Pay it Forward’ or the hit ‘American Beauty,’ you will not recognize the Spacey you see in House of Cards. He sheds his trademark malitude for the visage of Frank Underwood. A power hungry wolf with brown, ever bloodied paws that mark his revenge, his success, his ambition. A psychologist would likely label him a sociopath, but, that is far besides the point.

For once in several years, I am interested to watch Mr. Spacey. I am engaged. I am worn out by the series. This show has created a visceral reaction, and I haven’t felt it in years. Watch the first three episodes and try not to get hooked. You’ll fail. Then you’ll be just like the rest of us bloodthirsty onlookers, eager for nothing but the quality, finesse, and quiet, civil violence that House of Cards delivers.