Succession: Sibling Rivalry Dominates a Simmering, Subdued Season 3

This article original published October 4th, 2021.

In some ways, HBO’s Succession is America’s version of The Crown. Focusing on the lavish, petty corporate overlords of a rotten cabal, the show’s machinations are both fully present and menacingly medieval. Unlike The Crown, Jesse Armstrong’s show doesn’t venerate its billionaire royal family, The Roys—it lampoons them, and exposes them as actually being as vain and stupid as they believe the bulk of America to be. In its bombastic second season, the show rose to both comedic and dramatic heights, from “Boar on the Floor” to Kendall’s season-ending mic drop that promised an explosive third outing. But Season 3 is actually more subdued, and occasionally a little too stuck in the endless tread of the Roy siblings’ backstabbing and creatively vile behavior towards one other to gain power and, most importantly, Daddy’s affection.

The first arc of the season does focus primarily on Kendall (Jeremy Strong) vs Logan (Brian Cox), as the former heir apparent has promised to sink his father’s captainship of Waystar Royco. He invites his siblings—Shiv (Sarah Snook), Roman (Kieran Culkin), and Connor (Alan Ruck)—to join forces with him, and in an extremely tense and talky episode they “game out” what that could look like. But Succession’s primary tension always comes from the siblings not trusting anyone but their father; and it’s not just them: Logan’s long-time staff of Gerri (J. Smith-Cameron), Karl (David Rasche), and Frank (Peter Friedman) would also throw anyone under the bus to stay in the King’s good graces. An early scene between Roman and Shiv, regarding Kendall’s offer to take them in, encapsulates the pervasive insecurity and absurdity of that atmosphere as they trade the question “what are you thinking?” back and forth, over and over again.

The essential guessing game of Succession is “what is Logan thinking?” followed by what is everyone else thinking in response to that. It creates an air of extreme anxiety, both for those involved and for viewers, because even though there are no heroes here, we want to champion someone. Even if you want to support Kendall and his genuinely good ideas about cleaning up the company if he were in power, you can’t trust him because he’s arrogant, insecure, and unstable. Along with his siblings, he’s a master of self-sabotage. The actors are all exceptional in conveying these tenuous moments when the various factions meet and clash—as the camera flits from face to face, you can see their shifting alliances even when they would never, ever admit to any of them.

That constant uncertainty, of what people are thinking or doing or thinking of doing, creates an ever-increasing crescendo that—seven episodes into a nine-episode season—has not yet had any release. In many ways, it’s excruciating. In others, it’s just tiring. The endless meaningless talking and pointed, acidic meanness can start to feel hollow and overwhelming, much like Logan’s own brand of bullying.

But peppered throughout, Succession remains a gloriously wry show, particularly in the form of ever-beleaguered Cousin Greg (Nicholas Braun). Many of his best scenes play out in the background and with brief asides while the others plot and sharpen their knives. But Greg also has a weight tied to him regarding the documents he stole, the choosing of sides, and the legal consequences of that. It’s shared somewhat by Tom (Matthew MacFadyen), his bosom friend and aggressor, who is numb through most of the season over the potential prospect of being used as a scapegoat for jail time—if Kendall’s plan to have the Department of Justice investigate Waystar goes that way. (It’s sad at first to see him so broken, but MacFadyen plays Tom’s new morose demeanor and macabre obsessions so pitch-perfectly that when he starts to perk up I found myself slightly disappointed).