TV Retrospective: “Succession”

The Great American Myth was distilled in a simple promise: everyone is capable of success if they work hard enough. All that you have to do is put in the hours and sacrifice everything to make The Dream happen. It’s the type of propaganda that media has thrived on for centuries and has only started to decay, if one can suggest that. Periods like the 1980s showed economic disparity, where movie characters claiming “Greed is good” was mistaken as a rallying cry of hope. By the time the 21st century came around, the message had been bastardized by new generations, where boomers became the easy ones to point fingers at. The Great American Myth has become a running joke with recessions and job inequality serving as the lasting stingers. Turns out there’s not any conventional way to get ahead. You just have to hope you’re in the right family.

HBO’s Succession is maybe the essential American drama. While there have been more universal and even welcoming stories, the journey that took place over four seasons reflects an America doing its damnedest to hold onto a myth that no longer holds true for all. The few who still have access have no choice but to enter a strategic game of deceit. Put on a smile and sit through the boring business meetings hoping one day the C.E.O. will croak and leave behind the whole lot to you. For many, that’s a foolish errand. In the case of Succession, the story becomes more interesting to realize that the heirs, or at least three of them, are the boss’ children.

There have been few characters as compelling on TV as Logan Roy. He’s brash at heart, very likely to tell his children to “Fuck off” while boarding a private helicopter. There’s a directness that makes him make sense as an antagonist. Because he’s only seen from the outside, the audience has to determine his integrity through his children: Kendall, Shiv, and Roman who all have reasons to loathe his existence. More importantly, there are plenty of implicit cues to suggest that Logan’s not the best father, where Roman is a sexual deviant and Kendall spends half of the series run either being an addict or suicidal. The questions about their wanting the company dovetail perfectly with the general desire for approval. Like any child, The Roys want stability, but throughout the show’s run, it’s clear that it’s not as easy as showing up to birthday parties and making nice with staff members.

The show begins with the perfect misdirect when Logan’s health collapses. By the second episode, there’s concern that he may die and leave somebody in charge of the company. While they await an update, The Roys fight over the future of his company Waystar/Royco. There’s perceived wealth in ownership, and it’s a game where everyone trades places. When their father doesn’t die, the lingering disappointment continues throughout the series, causing everyone to find new ways to sit and enjoy their brief glimpses of glory. 

It's an ugly fight that only works because of how well creator Jesse Armstrong creates this ultimately as a dark comedy mixed with a dysfunctional family tragedy. Given that there’s an arguable “strength in numbers” of keeping the family together, the fact that it could never be that way creates sadness in every episode. Logan would rather feign senile to misdirect Kendall from having power. It’s clear that Logan is a mastermind, possibly amused by his choice to pit his kids against each other. He’ll take Shiv under his wing as an intern knowing that female C.E.O.s may never happen. There’s futility in faking everything, but to see Shiv think she has won plays like lying to a child for the sake of shutting them up.

It helps that each of the children has their own conniving personality that adds to the drama. Kendall thinks that he has management skills, even seen arriving to work while being pumped up to Beastie Boys on headphones. Even then, he’ll crumble at the slightest criticism on Twitter about his ego. Shiv is stuck in a loveless marriage to Tom who is even more sniveling, using the relationship as a shortcut up the ladder with his lackey Greg. Shiv’s comedy derives from maybe being the smartest person in the room but knowing she is the greatest victim of sexism. Even her brother Roman is way too candid about his juvenile sexual fantasies and uses them to freak her out. Roman’s greatest tragedy is that he’s very savvy at negotiations, but you’ll have to deal with him working out his fetishes and maybe sending you dick pics. The great question is who would want any of these people in charge. What does any of this mean?

Even with glimpses into the outside world, Waystar/Royco feels like its own festering pot of madness. While the professionals know their ground, those who truly want power spend a lot of the run in their own makeshift war rooms doing everything to create an image that suits them. Alas, it’s difficult to do so when Shiv won’t let Kendall forget about his addictions and the murder from season one, or how Roman loses faith in the whole thing. They all become victims of capitalism, driven by power less because they have a vision and more because there’s a belief that Logan is using it wrong. When it finally happens and the succession part of the title truly becomes relevant in the fourth season, one thing is very clear: everybody has been so obsessed with gaining the power that they haven’t actually thought about what they would do with it.

That is what the show has always been about. At no point has it not been about rats on a wheel hoping to one day get to the top and enjoy that sweet success. Through all the mergers and deals, they haven’t learned a thing. If anything, they have used it as an escape from their emptiness. Power is an aphrodisiac and to be an elite with direct access to the president seems tempting. It’s the type of reasoning that gets them out of jail and capable of reframing the narrative through their journalism conglomerate A.T.V. – both outdated and essential in shaping the future of the country. By the end of The Roys’ early run as leaders of Waystar/Royco, they have created a chaotic election night report that leads to the election of a potential fascist. They have burned the country down due to their petty fighting, where the lack of unity over a vision holds them back. Even the fact that their estranged brother Connor ran for president and all they did was laugh at him shows how little emotional attachment anyone has for each other.

The funniest part is watching how every character essentially fails upward. There are endless points where a person who doesn’t make billions annually would have either been arrested or barred from these major institutions. It’s only with the safety of money that Kendall can get away with arrogantly shouting “Fuck the patriarchy” or essentially dissing his father through a rap song. Even then, Kendall spends one pimped out birthday party having a mental breakdown amid unopened presents. The words of his father ring through his head. He’s a failure. Kendall is not a killer. He doesn’t have what it takes to be a leader, and it leads to a charismatic performance by Jeremy Strong: stoic on the outside but whose weakness shivers through in his eyes. At no point is he a believable successor, but he is who the show pits as the hero. He has to, and that’s the unfortunate reality of this destiny. In a sense, his past mistakes have been forgiven at the expense of losing his family and siblings’ respect. He’s like Logan, albeit with more enemies.

Among the more interesting supporting characters to follow is Greg, an essential outsider who starts the series by vomiting inside a carnival mascot costume. He’s surrounded by the wealthy elite in hopes of having Logan get him his job back. That never happens. Instead, it’s a crash course into how to stab the right backs. With Nicolas Braun also being the tallest cast member, there’s an implicit awkwardness of him being there. While nobody is opposed to his presence, he’s often seen as a background character who is veering too much into conversations he shouldn’t. Depending on how the audience views Succession, Greg being able to snoop allows for the vision of corruption to be shown. There’s a modesty to him at first, sympathetic in his quest to get his job back. However, by the end, he’s assigned the job of firing people in very heartless matters. Given how he does so with a friendly face shows how heartless capitalism can be. When power is all that somebody wants, it’s easy to push people away and summarize problems with comically vague sentiments. Even the fact that he’s one of the people assigned to defend Logan in court shows small ways this seemingly feeble joke of a character slowly gains seriousness. He’s the grunt whose tragedy is that he works for Tom who may as well be using him to get lattes while doing the real game.

The show doesn’t end with Logan dying. In fact, his death happens almost halfway through season four. It’s a sudden attack that reminds why the cast works so well together. The real emotions begin coming out, and suddenly the crass humor of Roman turns into a man crippled with regret and a sense of failure. His inability to lead after Logan’s passing shows his tragedy. Did his father really love him enough to make this worth all of the abuse? He’s the first to suggest that it’s all bullshit, that selling the company is the right call. Before even a month has passed in their timeline, The Roys have burned a lot of bridges, tearing away any sense of legacy in order to prove that they’re in control. Outside of giving Matson control, they have started the new era on the absolute worst note possible. 

And what was it all for? What does Kendall have left as the new C.E.O. to be proud of? The show ends with his first major move, and he can’t get through a tense negotiation without choking his brother. The idea of Shiv disagreeing with him symbolizes how poorly their union has become. The previous night’s celebration at their mom’s house was all a façade, a reminder of when they were likely happier in their youth before power meant a thing. As the opening credits show, there’s more playfulness in a time when they didn’t have to see Waystar/Royco as their future. They could just be their own bratty selves. Even in the final shot, Kendall is followed by Logan’s old bodyguard, a reminder of how despite spending four seasons trying to escape it, it will always be there. In interviews following, Strong suggested that he read Kendall as being suicidal at that point, and it’s very easy to understand why. He has lost it all. His future, even with the power, seems to mean very little.

Succession manages to not mince words, allowing a cruel sense of fate for everyone without resorting to shock. It’s a story of The Great American Myth that everything will work out with hard work, but what is success really? Logan’s success makes sense because he built the company, but it’s clear that he had no understanding of how to be a father as a result, where he couldn’t even teach an heir in a manner that could resemble functionality. When the real hero of the piece is Tom, the character who continually sees himself as the outsider, it’s clear how everyone has been doing things wrong. It’s quite possible that Tom doesn’t deserve anything, but he was the only one who built power instead of making sideways moves. He is the practical hero because he isn’t scared of hurting others, to be stuck in a loveless marriage for the sake of power. Nobody ends the story, at least in the core cast, happy. Power means more than legacy. Logan seems likely to be forgotten in a matter of years despite his incredible career. More tragically, everyone else is likely to be reduced to a footnote in some capitalist index. Kendall, Roman, and Shiv don’t have anything that makes them greater than their father, and trying to outrun that fact is a seismic gut punch.

The debate over the greatest HBO series will forever be unanswered. They’ve made too much quality content to not make it a game unto itself. With that said, Succession may be their greatest depiction and indictment of what it means to be American in the 21st century. With so much indebted to the older generations, it’s clear how little is being done to foster the talents of the next. The desperation to hold onto power will remain in those who have it, even as they grow sicker and handicapped. It will corrupt families and turn morally innocent people into absolute bastards. The hope for the future is not an easy one to envision. Having a family that looks to have everything works as a drama but, more specifically, works as a comedy. They have all of the power to make the world better, to offer better opportunities for families, and yet not once does Succession present a move that wasn’t selfish. The irony of Roman holding up a dollar in front of a child in the pilot and laughing at him for not living up to his bet says everything we need to know about the show. The rich will always laugh at those beneath them. As cruel as it sounds, children will always be beneath their parents. If you’re Logan Roy, you’re probably just laughing from beyond the grave. In death, he becomes immortal. The Roys meanwhile have maybe decades of struggle ahead and he doesn’t have to worry one bit about it. Everyone is on their own in this world, so get your knives out now. You’ll need them.