After having a few weeks to digest that spellbinding finale, I think, for me, the leading theme of Succession was the control and use of power. It all boils down to that, doesn’t it? Or maybe it’s power and ego. Power and ego and hunger. Desire. Jealousy. Betrayal. Selfishness. Bickering over a slice of pie. The pie being a Corporation worth billions.
Jesse Armstrong aimed to create a TV series about a family, its business and the politics of succession. However, he achieved something far greater.
Everybody is under-qualified
The most common element of an effective power struggle is an army of characters, all of whom want the same thing. In this case, it is the chase, the love and the obsession for the big seat. CEO of Waystar Royco. A writing text book (or, a real life scenario) would say, “You build a World of multiple characters in which, each one has their own strengths and weaknesses. Ultimately, the strongest one has the best shot.” But no. To hell with that. Jesse Armstrong takes a left-sided detour from this rule. He chooses his own way of creating a lust for power, fuelled by a bunch of people, all of whom are deeply flawed and quite frankly, not up to the mark. They are hilariously incompatible, exceptionally power hungry and underperform exactly when they are needed to do something worthwhile. In short, they are people who don’t know how to be CEO, don’t know what is the right move for the Company, don’t know a good deal from a bad one and in fact, don’t know anything more than their most immediate desire. And yet, they all fight for the same thing, running around like headless chickens.
And that’s exactly what creates phenomenal drama. That’s what changes Television.
The fight to prove who is the ‘least under-qualified’
It’s almost an understatement to say that the characters in Succession truly believe that they have both, the brain and muscle to take over the Company. In fact, they most certainly don’t. It is that very insecurity that makes them act in a self-serving manner, attack anybody and everybody who comes in their way and not have an ounce of a long term vision. But they are running. Running, because, if they don’t, they’d fall far far behind. These aren’t characters who have charisma. Sure, they have charismatic moments. But nothing more than that. Kendall Roy can go from absolutely nailing a product launch to breaking down and spitting gibberish when it matters most. Shiv Roy can mastermind a roadmap no body else could see coming, and then falter and make her ambitions look naive and childish. Roman Roy can react to a blown up rocket like he lost a few thousand dollars on the stock market and then drop the speech of his lifetime while the CEO of a major Company takes a leak next to him. None of these men or women have the consistency one needs to not only run Waystar, but also succeed and grow in their respective positions.
None of them. None except one man. And he walked away with the biggest prize.
It’s not realistic. It’s a notch above reality.
It’s pretty easy for businessmen and women to sit in conference rooms and talk ‘business stuff’ that would sound like a Neil Pert drum solo in the middle of a live performance. But that wouldn’t be engaging. It would be like putting a camera on inside a meeting room and capturing the minutes. Sure, there’s a documentary element to that which would work in some cases. But Armstrong (like Sorkin did with The Newsroom) creates a World that isn’t realistic, but is a notch above reality. This, I think, is what is the most pathbreaking element of Succession. The fact that people who are in powerful positions, who we have “grown up” seeing in a manner that shows the distance between us and them due to the way in which they talk and how technical they can be, actually talk like anybody else. There’s a wave of abuses and slurs, of comical truth bombs, constant, incessant digs at people and an almost perennially demeaning language that creates a new level of modern day poetry. Armstrong deserves a huge amount of credit for how he has built characters and moved them over their arcs in a sluggish, almost oh-it-mirrors-reality manner. If you really observe the “plot” of Succession, you’d notice that it hardly moves a few inches from the first season. Yes. Deals come on board. Deals go away. Grand juries happen. Elections happen. Tom and Gregg break eggs. But that’s “story” not “plot”.
(Here’s a short video of Martin Scorsese explaining the difference between “story” and “plot”)
That is the greatness of this TV Show. It really isn’t about the “what happens”, yes sure, it is about that considering how shocking that might be to most viewers. But primarily, it’s about the “how” / the “journey” towards the final move on the chess board.
In other words, you didn’t watch four seasons of Succession only to know who ends up being CEO. You watched it for a long list of reasons including but not limited to “how” your favourite characters would end up navigating their way through complex emotional situations to eventually, get what they want. Which in this case, is the same thing for all of them.
It takes a seat amongst the Greatest TV has ever seen
For people to consider Succession an all time great TV show, years before its final season is an achievement in itself. But to hold on to this pressure and to end up overachieving (unlike a certain other series) is an even bigger achievement. Movies and TV shows that end up being talked about only because of how they ended, rarely become a part of cultural dialogue or change. They tend to be forgotten.
Great work is remembered for how it made you feel. How it challenged you. How it broke your heart. How it enraged you. And somewhere in midst of all that, how it made you smile.
As far as I can say, Succession did all of those things. And more.
Cinema Unchained 