NOW This was a serious finale for serious people.
The latest episode of “Succession” will go down as one of the greatest endings to the greatest series of our time – the one that guided us to a truly Shakespearian conclusion.
“The show is against the bulls**t,” creator Jesse Armstrong said in a February interview.
How fitting, then, that the denouement of series 4, episode 10 saw the failed scion of a media empire – Roman Roy – finally admit, to himself and his siblings: “We’re bulls* *t.”
It was always vanity, wasn’t it? The greedy, foolish children of Logan Roy, the hulking patriarch who most often told them to fuck off, who pitted them against each other and promised them favoritism, then fed off the hollowness of their self-sacrifice – none of they had the intelligence, the sophistication, the inner resources to succeed their great and terrible father.
“I love you,” he told them earlier this season. “But you are not serious people.
The latest episode of “Succession” will go down as one of the greatest endings to the greatest series of our time – the one that guided us to a truly Shakespearian conclusion. (Pictured: Jeremy Strong as Kendall Roy).
Ultimately, Logan Roy’s greedy, foolish children – none of them had the intelligence, the sophistication, the inner resources to succeed their big, terrible father. (Pictured: Sarah Snook as Shiv Roy).
The denouement of series 4, episode 10 saw the failed scion of a media empire – Roman Roy (Kieran Culkin, pictured) – finally admit, to himself and his siblings: “We are bulls * *t.”
This line was the thesis of the show, which reflected the America of today: the unthinkable rise of a demagogue, probably racist and xenophobic, to the post of president of the United States, supported by the operation of Logan’s right-wing information, putting profits above democracy.
The amorality and cynicism it takes to amass such wealth and power, let alone gain access to the halls where such things are decided. The disdain and recklessness of the one percenter, which will never be touched by the violence and insurgencies in its wake, embodied here by “parochial wrestler” Tom Wambsgans.
Yes, despite all the theories online about who would ‘win’ in the finale, it was unfortunate Tom who emerged victorious, gleefully allowing Waystar buyer Lukas Matsson to sensationally avoid his own wife and to appoint him CEO.
An unlikely end? Or should we have taken a clue from his last name, shared with major league baseball player Bill Wambsganss, who hit the only unassisted triple play in the World Series in 1920.
As the season progressed, Tom’s ambition grew sharper. He swung between deference and defiance, prowling after Logan’s death with the mantra “I’m here to serve” and, when found, confronting Shiv about his hypocrisy: “I really, really, really love my money.” . If you think it’s superficial, why don’t you throw away all your stuff for love? »
Have we heard a better description of late American capitalism?
And his ultimate triple play, of course: take down the sibling triumvirate of Kendall, Shiv, and Roman to become Logan’s named successor.
And it was made even more alive, by this dazzling dialogue. Damn, could “Succession” pull off the ugliest feelings with verve and wit.
Indeed, here’s Kendall’s vile and hilarious outburst at her own sister: “T*** is like c*** does.”
‘Succession’ gave us the horrors of sushi bodega. The Patek Philippe snap. The vulgarity of ridiculously bulky handbags! Oh how we will miss you.
Yes, despite all the theories online about who would ‘win’ in the finale, it was unfortunate Tom who emerged victorious, gleefully allowing Waystar buyer Lukas Matsson to sensationally avoid his wife and appoint him CEO.
An unlikely end? Or should we have taken a clue from his last name, shared with major league baseball player Bill Wambsganss, who hit the only unassisted triple play in the World Series in 1920.
Still, there was gravity here, as always. And the series’ darker themes reverberated throughout this finale.
The repeated references to murder; the sadistic coronation of future King Kendall, force-fed a disgusting brew by his laughing siblings; and, of course, the water motif, with Kendall – who has nearly drowned so many times in this show – pulled over and over again to what seems like a fatal end.
Abandon all dignity, you who enter here – as Tom best points out, sitting across from his new corporate overlord, grinning blindly as Mattson fantasizes about having sex with pregnant Shiv.
The cost of doing business has never been higher or deeper.
And so we witnessed Roman’s inevitable mental collapse, his masochism culminating in the finale, as he let Kendall literally reopen a bleeding wound on his forehead; Kendall’s sadism revealed as she hugged him tight until the stitches burst.
It was Kendall as the emotional successor to Logan, who we once saw smack Roman in the face, and who we know kept him in a dog crate as a kid. Kendall has gone to the dark side, right into Darth Vader.
Despite all the amorality on display, Armstrong built a sort of moral universe, where none of the unworthy children won.
But even Tom’s win was hollow: as Mattson made it clear, he’s her lapdog, her waterboy.
The sandblasting of humanity has given us ordinary people access to porn property, private jets and helicopters, the lingua franca of stealth wealth and 500 Loro Piana cashmere baseball caps. $, without such a cost.
But the Roy children, at the height of the finale, pay dearly.
The series’ darker themes reverberated throughout this finale. The repeated references to murder; the sadistic coronation of future King Kendall by his siblings; and the water motif, with Kendall – who has nearly drowned so many times – being drawn to what seems like a fatal end.
We witnessed Roman’s inevitable mental collapse, his masochism culminating in the finale as he let Kendall literally reopen a bleeding wound on his forehead; Kendall’s sadism revealed as she hugged him tight until the stitches burst.
It was Kendall as Logan’s emotional successor, who we saw Roman face down early on, and who we know kept him in a dog crate as a kid. Kendall has gone to the dark side, right into Darth Vader.
In a brutal fight to succeed Logan, Kendall physically attacks Roman. Shiv calls out Kendall for killing someone, Season 2’s young waiter, Kendall’s own Chappaquiddick.
“I love you,” Shiv told her, “but I can’t stand you.”
The council sees and hears everything – the shoving, the shouting, the slapping, the crying. These are not serious people.
“Succession” gave these characters, and their fans, the endings they deserved: Roman, broken but free, drinking the martini fostered by his unrequited obsession, Gerri; Shiv makes a resentful peace with Tom, resting his hand over his but not intertwined as they sit, “graduate” style, in the back of a blacked-out SUV; and Kendall alone, without family, without a future, staring down the Hudson River – the water, the death – as the sun goes down.
It was perfect, poetic, silent and still.
The “succession” could easily have continued. HBO would undoubtedly have offered heaps of cash and creative freedom, but Armstrong was strong enough to end on that high note.
It is a rare form of artistic courage. We salute Armstrong even as we mourn: For what can ever replace “Succession”?
