The Schadenfreude of Succession
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
WARNING: THIS ARTICLE CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR EVERY SEASON OF SUCCESSION, INCLUDING SEASON THREE.
Succession season three is back, and all is right with the world again. In short, Succession is one of the greatest shows currently on television, and this article isn’t about how strong the series is. If anything, I want to comment more on the urgency for such a show to exist, and how it likely couldn’t have been made at a better time. The Roy family is hilarious to watch, as they devour their entity and legacy entirely whilst trying to claim the power from their conglomerate dynasty. They’re also incredibly exciting as well, considering the major impacts left based on each and every move they make. Despite everything, Succession is still incredibly powerful television in a conventional sense. You must find out what happens next in this Shakespearean onslaught of corruption. There’s a reward for this behaviour, at least for us: pure joy extracted from the anguish of the toxic elite.
The Roys aren’t shot with careful consideration of the families and companies that aim for monopolization. If anything, there is much more sympathy for the millions of people — the ninety-eight percent of the world, the middle and lower classes, and the angry — that get exploited and manipulated by the powerful on a daily basis. Something like Succession is saying “enough is enough” when it comes to allowing these deceptions to go untold. This is why it is as compelling as it is: we’re seeing the kinds of daily concerns everyone else would face within the confinements of the seemingly untouchable. However, there’s also the access into this closed-off world that most of us will never be able to enter, and there is this fascination with the unobtainable. This bridge between the unknown and the familiar, especially when it is delivered in the form of comeuppance, is a weekly event we can all get behind. A similar show about families, power struggles, and all-out wars is Game of Thrones, and yet somehow the focus on a life of wealth feels almost as fictitious and of the fantasy genre. This is such a familiar tale but told through characters we’re meant to detest (or at least have zero relationships with) and in an environment we may never understand.
That was season one of Succession, anyway. Even though the lies and self-destruction of the series continued in the sophomore season, Succession progressed into something a little less scathing (not solely, anyway). We’re at the rock bottom of some of the Roy family members (which still is better than most of us at the zeniths of our lives, to be fair), but we’re being reminded that we’re still all human beings susceptible of even a smidgen of empathy, guilt, and compassion even in the most unexpected moments. I’m not suggesting that Succession is trying to make us feel bad about the kinds of people that may never care about us. No. I am implying that the show is aware that this world is divided enough (and it’s as heated as it has ever been politically, socially, and emotionally in the last number of years). To have a show only of despicable people with us to laugh at would be far too mean-spirited. Succession has a heart, and providing a bit of warmth to the coldest kinds of people may be its most fictitious element. Nonetheless, it is what has allowed the series to also be one of television’s most multi-faceted as well.
This compassion also sets up season three: the all-out war between the now-divided Roy family. Even if this redemption for these characters was feigned for us to know who we would want to support in this fight, this is another exhibit of how well-written the series is. Again, I don’t want to focus on the strength of the show but its relevance instead. Now a ton of secrets are being used as ammunition, and we are feeling sorry for those are going to take a fall (as is evident already in the season three premiere and its calculation of what has transpired so far, and how this karma will bite each and every Roy member, and how the shrapnel will hit everyone else). We are aware of how many innocent people are going to be hurt in this: the employees that work for the Roys (either through their company, or at their homes and via services), the public who is already being toyed with (imagine the bomb that will go off and affect everyone here), and more. We don’t want these people to matter to us all, and yet they do, either as characters on a television show or as the symbols of the people who take advantage of us (and yet we are in need of their existence, unfortunately). Replace the Roys with any other major family, and any major industry as well.
So, what does this have to do with timing specifically? Well, again, things are really dicey in society. Being able to laugh at some of that stress in such a satirical sense is key: our concerns are heard and not diminished for the sake of comedy, but we are provided an angle that can allow us to maybe feel as heard as we are entertained. Then, there’s the Roy family outlier: cousin Greg, who by now has shown signs of competence and beyond that: capability. Greg is the only main character that’s even remotely the every-person, and seeing him climb this ravenous ladder and actually head in the right direction is quite something. We root for him because he’s the only character we can maybe see ourselves in (and, besides, he’s far from the cringiest character once Tom claimed that crown). Greg also represents a win for all: someone who can claim control and not for reasons of desire, status, or vice, but for proving everyone wrong instead. That’s much more relatable for all of us, especially in a time when the state of the world (as an economical system, an amalgamation of civilizations, and as a habitable planet) seems completely stripped away from our control. When everything else feels impossible to fix, we have a loveable doofus that represents us all. Maybe we won’t go far with Greg (I actually beg to differ, but let’s let Succession unravel and show us the way), but at least we finally had a shot.
Succession is dynamic television, and some of the best mapping I’ve ever seen in television history (I pray that the entire series holds up, but season three’s premiere has this expectation being met already). Not only is the structure of the show brilliant, but so is the figurative bridge between the series and those who would be watching it. It is always aware that we are watching the series: everyday people. It doesn’t get sucked into its own waltz, nor does it aim too high and become impervious to likeability (something that various tales of the monstrously high upper class tend to forget to avoid). We’re all witnessing a time of change, with pushes of progressions in many forms around the world. Seeing a legendary family — a tabula rasa of any billionaire family you wish to replace the Roys with — built on the foundations of old teetering hundreds of feet above the rest of the world, wobbling and worrying about their fall whilst trying to murder one another (figuratively, of course, at least for now) is a weekly circus we can all get behind (Nicholas Britell’s music is as carnival-like as it is epic, and it helps maintain the show’s silliness as well as its prestige). And yet we are still fully invested in these people as characters on a television series that we love, so Succession doesn’t go full-on cynical, as to not forget how to fundamentally be a strong story as well. We’re here for Succession’s current run and whatever will come afterward. Here’s to the joys and pains of Succession: one of TV’s best returning series, and a potential case that proves that the new Golden Age of Television is still going.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.