The Success of Succession

Since Succession premiered in 2018, I repeatedly heard so many people I respect say how great the show was, but I hesitated to start watching. It wasn’t that I doubted them; I was just waiting to find the time to dive in. (Too much content.) With the final season airing this year, I thought it would be a good time to catch up before the finale. Part of the reason I hesitated to start Succession was fear of getting absorbed in yet another series that would go on indefinitely—or get canceled prematurely. Knowing there was an end in sight allowed me to begin. Long story short, it turns out all those people were right: Succession is a great show. It is highly dramatic with surprising twists and turns, but it is also extremely funny—funnier than most sitcoms, full of classic one-liners. It ranks up there with The Wire, The Sopranos, Mad Men, and Breaking Bad as one of the top television series of all time.

My late start to Succession turned out to be the best way to consume the show: I watched roughly one episode per day, every day over the course of a month and a half, catching up just in time for the finale. Binging too many episodes in one sitting is not ideal because you don’t have time to digest each episode and think about it afterward. But waiting a full week may be too long—and waiting a whole year between seasons is definitely too long, as you forget what happened in previous episodes/seasons. Watching daily, I didn’t need the “previously on” recaps because every episode remained fresh in my mind. Watching the show as it aired would be like reading one chapter from a novel each week, then stopping midway through and waiting a year to resume the next chapter. It messes with the flow of the story.

Succession is about Logan Roy, the founder/CEO of Waystar RoyCo, a global media corporation with a cable news channel, movie studio, theme parks, and cruises. The series opens with Logan in poor health, nearing the end of his life, and considering who will be the successor to his company. The show is very Shakespearean, similar to plays like King Lear, Macbeth, and Hamlet. It follows the drama within the family and outside, as various people compete for the “throne.” We no longer have monarchies like the type Shakespeare wrote about, however; corporations are akin to modern kingdoms with some CEOs possessing king-like power.

Succession follows the classic tale of a king searching for an heir to take over his kingdom when he is gone. That position usually went to the first-born male child. The problem with hereditary succession is the children of successful leaders often do not measure up to the original, especially a self-made man (like Logan Roy). Children of the wealthy do not encounter and overcome the same struggles to rise to the top of society—they are born on the top, living a pampered life where they are handed everything. A king is unlikely to produce a high-quality successor unless he consciously devotes time and effort to training an heir to replace him—but Logan Roy did not do that. He was always too focused on his company, on being the king, rather than focusing on his children and creating the next king.

**[Spoilers for all seasons of Succession from this point on]**

Throughout the series, Logan repeatedly talks about how everything he does is “for his family,” and how he wants one of his kids to take over the company. Logan spent his entire life building up Waystar RoyCo but never built up his children to the same degree. He cares more about RoyCo than the Roy kids, therefore none of them are capable of taking over the company—they are all flawed. Connor Roy is treated as a joke by everyone else on the show, but I would argue he is the healthiest Roy kid psychologically (a low bar) because he was never a part of the company or even considered as an option to take over (despite being the actual oldest male son). Connor simply enjoys his wealth and pursues vanity projects like collecting odd historical relics and running for president of the United States on an anarcho-capitalist platform and getting less than 1% of the vote. (I was surprised that a mainstream TV show even knew the term “anarcho-capitalist.”)

Early on in the series, you think of Logan as the villain and his kids as the heroes who will take over his company and be better than him. But what you come to realize is that the Roy kids are worse than Logan—they share all his faults without his ability to build a successful business. Their faults are perhaps Logan’s own fault because of his poor parenting, having always focused foremost on the company. Logan was more interested in raising a successor to his empire than raising healthy children, and as a result he got neither. The Roy kids are entitled and privileged, as they never had to build or earn anything themselves, and were handed over massive wealth and power. Whereas Logan, for all his faults, was a self-made man. He came from nothing and built a billion-dollar global enterprise. But none of his kids are capable of doing that. So many problems in the real world come from this: the heirs of the rich and famous being handed powerful positions in society for their names rather than merit.

This is why the ending of Succession was so perfect. The company should not have been handed to any of the Roy kids. As Logan said, they are “not serious people.” Or as Roman articulated, “We’re bullshit.” If any one of them took over Waystar it would have been a disaster: an eventual road toward bankruptcy and failure. The next “Logan Roy” should be another self-made person who built something from scratch. That’s why, prior to the final season, I thought it should be Lukas Matsson who took over, so I was happy to be proven right. I didn’t see the Tom part coming, but he is also self-made to some extent—he proved himself to be a competent manager and a “yes man” to whoever is in charge. Despite having the title of CEO in the end, Tom will merely be a frontman or “pain sponge” for Matsson. Logan Roy represents the old-school business magnate while Matsson represents the new-school millennial CEO. Today the most powerful leaders come from the tech world: they are younger and quirkier than industrialists of the past. They don’t shout and swear at people like Logan; they microdose psychedelics and post edgy memes on Twitter. Yet despite seeming nicer and more chill, Matsson proved to be just as ruthless and savvy as Logan in business.

The thing about Succession that impresses me most is its subtlety and sophistication while covering such complicated topics as business and politics. The writing is exceptional, with some of the best characters in TV history. But as I wrote in this post, mere character development is not enough—you need a stellar plot and story to go with it, which Succession has as well. Again, the dramatic arcs are Shakespearian in nature, and that is not just hyperbole. Much of the praise I gave to White Lotus also applies to Succession. They cover similar ground: rich and powerful characters who live lives of luxury and privilege, plus combining dark drama and satire with laugh-out-loud comedy. Succession has great character development and also great story plotting. Most shows are lucky to be great at one. And, unlike other shows, they managed to land the plane successfully with a satisfying ending.

It is easy to mock and criticize the rich and powerful—and Succession does to some extent—but ultimately the characters are not caricatures or strawmen; they feel like real three-dimensional people. The show could have painted Logan Roy, the owner of a Fox News-type cable TV channel as a contemptible villain, and his liberal daughter Shiv as the admirable hero, but it is thankfully not so simple. Left-wing viewers may watch Succession and think the show is clearly mocking the right-wing characters, but they might fail to see that the left-wing characters are being mocked and criticized as well. You are unlikely to recognize character traits as “faults” if you share those same traits. Plus the right-wing characters are not always being mocked and criticized. All the characters are portrayed honestly, with both positive and negative elements (just like actual people in real life).

Good art portrays truth—it is a mirror to reality—though each viewer will see only what they want to see. People interpret the same story differently based on their unique perspectives. Propaganda does not allow such interpretation—it forces a single perspective on all viewers. A lesser “artist” could have made a propagandistic version of Succession, but showrunner Jesse Armstrong is a true artist. Instead of forcing his opinions into the show and letting the characters be mouthpieces for his ideas, he stayed true to the characters. Different people can watch Succession and interpret the same events as good or bad, the same characters as heroes or villains—just like we do with reality.

Logan’s funeral is a perfect example of this. His brother Ewan gives a scathing eulogy criticizing Logan for being a brash greedy monster who took advantage of countless others and destroyed society. But then Logan’s son Kendall gives a speech of his own, praising his father for being a bold man of action who built society and created wealth for countless others. The thing is, both of them are right. In a world where the news media (including ATN and Pierce or their real-world ciphers) tries to simplify every issue into a false binary dichotomy of good vs. evil, Succession portrays the complex truth of reality and its many subtle shades of gray. Ironically, a fictional TV show about a fake cable news channel delivers more truth about the world than real cable news channels in reality.

**Some more random notes and reactions I had while watching all four seasons of Succession:**

I liked how each episode of the show is a somewhat contained story with a beginning, middle, and end—but within the larger story arc of the series (similar to Mad Men). Each episode usually takes place on a single day, but you’re never sure how much time will pass between episodes.
Roman is my favorite character—he reminds me of Michael Malice, a loveable troll. The show was able to include a lot of “problematic” dialogue without being canceled because the characters are not supposed to be role models.
Cousin Greg is another favorite character, as his arc shows how this world can turn a wholesome naïve kid into a savage backstabbing jerk in an attempt to continually climb the corporate ladder. Every scene with Greg and Tom was comedy gold.
In season 3, Ken shows how otherwise apolitical people virtue-signal “woke” values to gain popularity, money, and power. (Many such cases.) Also, actor Jeremy Strong’s performance is amazing throughout. I respect his extreme dedication to method acting.
Mencken, the right-wing presidential candidate, is portrayed fairly. He is smart and funny rather than a cartoonishly evil supervillain. A right-winger could watch and think “I’d vote for him,” while left-wing viewers would agree with Shiv that Mencken is a “fascist” and “dangerous threat to democracy.” (Good art is a mirror.) Meanwhile, libertarians would join the Con-heads.
While Shiv is a true bleeding-heart liberal who believes in progressive causes, even she is willing to sell out to Mencken for the right price.
Considering they hired Dasha from the Red Scare podcast for a recurring role in season 3, clearly someone behind the show is more politically nuanced than the typical partisan from either side.
Season 1 finale: I didn’t think there could be a more calamitous wedding than Game of Thrones‘ “Red Wedding”, but Succession pulled it off…without even killing anyone (in the main cast, at least).
Season 2 finale: A jaw-dropping move from Ken, turning on his father. I don’t know how I could have waited an entire year for season 3 after that shocking twist. Then again, I also could have spent that time discussing it with other fans and sharing theories. My theory: Ken was devastated after the car accident, blaming himself for the waiter’s death. He felt like his dad saved his life afterward, proving Logan really did care about him after all. Ken felt indebted to his father forever for that and served him loyally all season long. Ken was even willing to go to prison for Logan in the finale—until he asked his father whether he thought he could be CEO. Then Logan said no, because “you’re not a killer.” But it wasn’t that that did it, at least not entirely. It was Logan’s “NRPI” comment (no real person involved). When Logan said that the waiter who died didn’t matter, Ken realized just how soulless his father truly was, that he never really loved him either. Logan didn’t protect Ken after the accident for Ken’s sake but for his own and his company’s sake, to avoid the PR backlash. At that moment Ken realized Logan had been using him his entire life, always putting RoyCo before the Roy kids—and everybody else in the world, including Mo’s victims. It was why later, while speaking to Logan on his deathbed, Ken still couldn’t forgive him. In that crucial “NRPI” moment of realization, Ken decided to turn on Logan, to become the “killer” that his father wished he was, and take down the killer that is Logan Roy.
Season 3 finale: Ken tries but fails to defeat his father, ending with another devastating wedding (the Roy kids’ mother’s) where Logan cuts the three of them out of the company and decides to sell to Matsson.
Season 4: They step up the stakes with an even more traumatic wedding (Connor and Willa’s), where Logan chooses not to attend and instead pursues his business deal with Matsson—to his own demise. Logan’s death felt monumental, thanks to the great writing and acting all around.

Finally, the most pivotal scene in the series finale is when Shiv decides to vote against Ken, and the three siblings fight outside the boardroom. It completes the full arc of Kendall Roy’s character—he finally becomes “a killer” by claiming he never killed anyone. When Ken tells his siblings that the waiter’s death he previously confessed to “never happened,” he essentially proves himself to be just as soulless as his father. Ken was ultimately willing to sell his soul for the company but still couldn’t get it. The final shot is Ken sitting alone by the Hudson River contemplating his fate, which is probably the most up-in-the-air of anyone on the show. Shiv still has Tom and their baby on the way. Roman will probably cash out, realizing he’s not made for this world—he’s not a “business psycho” like Ken. As for Ken, although he lost the company, he will still make bank in the sale to Matsson. Ken could remain depressed and go back to doing drugs and partying, or he can use this as an opportunity to build something new. Ken has proven to be “a killer” like Logan, placing business above family (even his own kids), but the one thing Ken has not done like his father is build something of his own. Now at least he can try.