Grab your ludicrously capacious bag and run – or if your name is Gregory Hirsch awkwardly cycle – to the Waystar Royco annual shareholders meeting as Jesse Armstrong says one final ‘f**k off!’ to HBO’s ‘Succession’ after four, chaotically tragic seasons with an ending that dramaturgically just made sense. It goes without saying, but there will of course be spoilers ahead as we discuss the winners and losers in this Shakespearian tragedy transposed to the cringey world of finance bros, right-wing media conglomerates, cocaine, puking mascots, neo-Nazis, not-so safe rooms, a multitude of ‘fu**s’, ‘optics’ and ‘uhhs’, the battle of the eldest boys, a failed space launch, an imaginary cat, and the cultural reset that was season two’s ‘L to the OG’. With the beautifully composed theme by Nicholas Britell which could easily raise the dead, the trauma that was the realisation each Sunday that the poison does indeed ‘drip through’ will be sorely missed. A TV show that was pure cinema, no-one should be surprised this awards season.
Given that Armstrong has repeatedly declared from the start that the show has a heavy Shakespearian influence, meticulously following the narrative of King Lear, it was obvious from the continuous cycle of familial backstabbing that the story would only end in tragedy for the siblings, most especially for our number one boy and Succession’s biggest loser Kendall Roy. Supposedly promised the role of CEO by his abusive father aged just seven at an ice cream parlour, the cringey introduction to the character in the opening of the first series in which he raps to the Beastie Boys’ ‘An Open Letter to New York’, awkwardly cut to hear how it sounds acapella (spoiler alert: painful), was the perfect social commentary from Armstrong on the nepo-baby discourse which grips modern culture as we gain a glimpse into how Kendall perceives himself as this force to be reckoned with verses the cringey, insecure finance bro obsessed with the ‘uhhh … f**king optics’ who is still a small boy desperately craving his father’s approval and only valued through daddy’s money. Although made up of an incredibly talented ensemble, who will clearly sweep awards season, Jeremy Strong’s performance as Kendall Roy and his sheer dedication to his craft in his own brand of ‘identity diffusion’, having lovingly immersed himself in the role, is poetic, haunting and beautiful and for me, steals the show. A man on paper who we should despise with his privilege handed to him on a plate, is one we root for and genuinely worry and care for, especially any time he is near a body of water. In a rather bizarre phenomenon this middle-aged man has been ‘yassified’ and turned into a walking meme as each episode is ‘Kendall Roy girlies’ fear for our beloved ‘baby girl’. In a tale as old as time, Strong’s portrayal of addiction is refreshingly nuanced in illustrating the deep-rooted insecurity and desire for confidence and to fit in at the heart of the identity crisis as he has been groomed to such a state that he cannot fathom living as anything but CEO, much at the cost of his own role as a father determined to be better than the man before him. Of course, he couldn’t be CEO, let’s not kid ourselves fellow Kendall Roy girlies as soon as he screamed the phrase ‘I’m the eldest boy!’ and attempted to cover up that murder, we knew he had fumbled the bag as the three siblings were reduced to the squabbling children that would frequently play outside their father’s office. Although his end is left ambiguous, the repeated theme of the body of water does not bode well in my opinion for the purposeless, lost soul staring out at the empty husk that once was his status and somewhat credibility. Creating a discourse that will last a lifetime amongst the fandom, we will never know if Logan really did underline or cross out his name for choice of successor. My opinion? I think as soon as he heard ‘L to the OG’ Logan knew Kendall’s promise lay outside the business world; the rap career was calling for our ‘techno Gatsby’. Maybe our favourite feminist could dedicate his first single to the patriarchal structures which oppress women? There was something truly beautifully ugly in watching Kendall, the man who stood up to his father’s abuse of his grandson and youngest son Roman as protector, slowly becoming the abuser in his attempt to capture Logan’s ‘terrible force’ and ‘fierce ambition’ in that moment where he ‘hugs’ his brother so tightly he reopens his stitches. That moment where Logan’s own brother watches in horror after his impromptu eulogy? Cinematic masterpiece. The four seasons’ worth of character development which crumbles in a mere minute as rather than own up to the tragic drug-fuelled accident which culminates in the death of a young waiter at his hands, Kendall’s blunder in his tragic attempt at gaslighting was beautifully poetic in demonstrating that these three are cemented in their fate. A moment to redeem his past addiction, he chooses power and burns the bridge of honesty which brought the three together as a force united against their father at the end of the previous season. At least we got Bi-Stewy confirmed, but at what cost?
The beauty of succession is that it is not simply a story of power struggle, but rather of the unrelenting generational trauma and cycle of abuse that will never be broken. Each sibling is more unstable than the other, recognising their father as the abusive prick that he is and yet unable to stop craving and seeking his approval as the ‘needy love sponges’ that they are, and are thus doomed to succumb to their fate as they turn into their parents and destroy any remnants of salvageable relationship with one another in their hunger for power and acceptance. Scratch beneath the snarky, jester-like, downright problematic, vulgar, and beyond cancellable exterior of the epitome that is a nepo-baby Roman Roy – in an outstanding performance from Kieran Culkin this season – and we are presented with a man so disgusted and fearful of intimacy, his sexuality, and vulnerability from being weaned on physical and emotional abuse that he can only accept derogation, culminating in his breakdown at his father’s funeral as the ‘pre-grieving’ façade instantly crumbles. The sheer genius of the repeated reference to Roman and Greek mythology hinting at tragedy is summed up in his full name: Romulus, his brother’s betrayer. Although the jury is still out on whether Roman ‘won’ or ‘lost’ the game, personally that smirk at the end combined with his realisation that ‘we are crap’ and truly the unserious children Logan perceived them to be symbolised that he was now free. Shiv the ‘Shiv’ – come on, we all knew she’d throw her own family under the bus through that nickname alone! – embodying Bonnie Burstow’s quote about the young daughter’s collusion with her father in looking down upon her own mother, blissfully unaware she will not be saved from the same fate, was, contrary to popular belief, nowhere near a winner. Sure, she got the upper hand on her brothers but at the cost of turning into the mother she truly despised, married to a man she does not love and carrying a baby she does not want in her realisation that the only way she could gain any form of power in the deeply misogynistic bubble fashioned by her father is through motherhood, not her own talent. Don’t get me started on the multitude of essays that could be written on how she and Tom are symbolic of Lord and Lady Macbeth. Craving the role thrust upon Kendall, who in return longed for the love she received from their father, it was obvious that she would ultimately betray her brothers, or even her own husband happily letting him be a blood sacrifice, for just a hint of status in a man’s world. It must be stressed that in no way shape or form did she ‘save’ her brothers intentionally. Shiv is as cold and unloving as her father and perhaps the most similar of all the siblings to him and chose only what would rationally benefit herself.
The true eldest boy, Connor Roy, who despite losing his bid for presidency which provided the comedic relief for the bulk of the show in his representation of the ridiculous pursuits and ventures of the top 1%, is perhaps the only ‘winner’ of the Roy’s. In the bizarre relationship he holds with Willa, the iconic social climber who plans to revamp the entirety of Logan’s former house and replace the furniture with ‘cow-print sofas’, there is an inkling of true acceptance and love in their arrangement, even if she was originally hired as his escort. Yes, the election fell through, but us ‘Con-Heads’ must revel in the fact that Connor Roy is still polling at a strong 1%, which keeps him in the conversation. A man who was ‘interested in politics at a young age’, Connor as the eldest half-sibling brought an unmatchable humour to the show in his own brand of unrelenting self-assurance, yet also a heart-breaking insight into a lonely childhood and forgotten father-figure to his younger siblings. Portrayed as a walking PR disaster, Connor was arguably one of the smartest in his refusal to adhere to Logan’s games and his ability to move beyond seeking his father’s approval, only believing in himself. After all, it is Connor’s wedding where the biggest twist of the show plays off as the media mogul that is Logan Roy dies on his own private jet in the toilet on the way to a business meeting, rather than attend his eldest son’s wedding. Connor is the one that gets the last laugh, casually declaring that his father never really loved him anyway, marrying the woman he loves and eventually buying the old house.
In a fascinating social commentary on the rise of ‘stealth wealth’, classism, and the decline of ‘old money’ as a victim of ‘new money’, the continued stylistic choices on the wardrobe department in so eloquently drawing attention the ‘stealth wealth’ phenomenon has to be commented upon. In the world of the top 1%, the understated is key. Showing off logos or recognised designer brands is tacky. The relaxed, yet formal with a disgustingly outrageous price tag is all the range in the siblings’ outfits, and no one best symbolises this victimisation of ‘old money’ to ‘new money’ best than in the wardrobe of our clear winner: new CEO Tom Wambsgans. Repeatedly the butt of the joke alongside newcomer cousin Greg, most particularly in the ostentatious puffy vest which Roman derogatorily questions if it is ‘stuffed with your hopes and dreams?’, the stylistic evolution of Shiv’s insipid husband repeatedly willing to undergo humiliation at the chance for Logan’s respect or a mere morsel of power was a perfect display of his character arc. As the company was founded from scratch by Logan, who detested the privilege his children were born into, it made sense that an outsider like Tom would be the one to take over. Coming from a comfortable middle-class background, Tom worked hard to gain an inside role in a family he admired for a long time and the ending scene in which he was crowned CEO, ultimately shifting the unequal power imbalance in his relationship with Siobhan was arguably one of television’s finest moments. For me, the moment that he stared Logan dead in the eyes as he ate his chicken in the most unhinged display at proving his worth sealed his fate. Personally, I’m happy we got Wambsgans’d. Anyone who claims HBO once again ‘Bram Stark’d’ its audience, needs to go back and rewatch the show. Like any Greek or Shakespearian tragedy, it was fate that the outsider would stab everyone in the back to gain the ultimate power. Sure, his biggest supporter had died leaving his role in the company precarious as this Judas had revealed the children’s attempted coup, but the fact that he continually used an android instead of an iPhone as Apple will not allow its smartphones to be used by villains in the media, was a wonderful touch from the props department as it revealed his much larger antagonistic role. With the company being taken over by the maniacal Swedish Mattson with Tom as the all-American puppet CEO, ‘new money’ triumphed as the Roy empire was no more. Although I have a deep fondness for the classic ‘old guard’, Tom’s decision to re-employ Gerri and immediately dispose of Frank, Hugo and Karl illustrated that unlike the Roy children, he was the only one with any true business acumen. Rest in peace to my two favourite businessmen who just scraped by by their skin of their teeth.
Let us not forget Succession’s true winner: the conniving sh*t that is Cousin Greg. Introduced as the awkward, bumbling idiot who reaches out to his Great-Uncle after failing his first day of management training, he rose to the top to become Tom’s trusted advisor and second-in command by playing the system making it clear he could hold on to information but easily be paid off, even if the execution was painfully awkward. Although claiming to be a man firm in his conviction for his principles of being ‘against racism’ and believing that you ‘shouldn’t lie if you’re the news’, Greg’s illusion of being a bumbling idiot was fantastically broken in his smug shrug to Siobhan as he revealed her betrayal to her brothers and proved his worth as a fellow antagonistic force. In his evolution from a scruffy, broke, clueless young man to one of the youngest and well-paid assistants who had unintentionally won over Logan’s respect, Cousin Greg was a brilliant display of the exploitation of naivety as a personality trait. Quite honestly providing one of the shows’ most romantic moments, there was something disturbingly heart-warming as Nero finally got his Sporus when Tom placed his auction sticker onto Greg’s forehead declaring he had chosen him. The homoerotic subtext between these ‘disgusting brothers’ has been the bulk of the show’s comedic entertainment and the fact that Mr Darcy himself, Matthew MacFadyen, plays Tom added a romantic depth to the characters’ interactions. Akin to Darcy’s declaration of love for Elizabeth Bennett, the scene in which Tom pelts Greg with bottles of water claiming that he ‘will not let go of what is mine’ after their ‘breakup’ will forever stand out in my mind as a twisted ‘couple’s goals’. Their underestimated collaboration was key to the final blow and Siobhan’s undeserved assurance in her own intelligence has left her resigned to this position as an uncomfortable third wheel.
Although there is just so much more I wish I could cover in this review about the sheer craft, talent and skill that has gone into creating this masterpiece of a show – and I could quite honestly go on to dissect each season and episode in detail – to sum up, the finale is one that brought the shock factor and pain as we caught a brief glimpse of a hopeful, united ending for our three siblings in their moments of joy in their mother’s kitchen, yet was beautifully foreshadowed from the get go. Succession was always a tragedy. Redemption arcs and developments were meaningless in the wider message that the poison of abuse will always drip through. Armstrong followed Shakespearian lore to a T. These emotionally stunted, pitiful nepo-babies were inevitably doomed from birth and never had what it takes to be CEO. Face it, Waystar Royco would be run into the ground under the childish squabbling and backstabbing of all three. We were always going to be Wambsgans’d. Believe it or not, in a wonderful critique of nepo-baby culture, being ‘eldest boy’ is not actually a reasonable qualification. What I will miss most of all, is the glorious number of memes that came from the show’s fans as they focused on the show’s campness, but also tragic display of dysfunctional families. HBO did it once again as the final boardroom scene really was my equivalent of the ‘Red Wedding’ with the most of out-pocket lines delivered by each sibling. Armstrong as a writer truly became a modern-day Shakespeare in his employment of Shakespeare’s love of weddings and funerals as key dramatic plot devices as the wildest events would unfurl at the idea of togetherness and no more so at Connor’s wedding itself: Rest in peace to the OG indeed. As Succession Sundays has now officially come to a close, we are all now our own Kendall’s watching out at the waves, without meaning as one of the greatest shows of the decade left with a bang!
Written by: Amelia Craik
Edited by: Eloise Barnes