The Seduction of Succession: What Draws Us Into The Darkest Parts of People?
With 25 nominations for the 2022 Emmys, HBO’s Succession has fast built up a large fanbase; in just three seasons it’s earned almost a cult-classic TV show status; drawing comparison to critically acclaimed shows such as The Sopranos and Mad Men. Its portrayal of a capitalistic business empire that thrives off corruption, and the ways in which self-justification can inform unethical human behaviour, is a clear draw of the show – of which the Roys’ sibling dynamic forms the crux.
This antihero characterisation in Succession works so well, partly because the nuance of ethics within each of characters’ actions fluctuate seamlessly until the viewers are left with no ‘good’ characters. This careful writing elevates the show's dynamics above superficial ethical archetypes made popular by superhero tropes in pop-culture. Through wonderful exposition, including information communicated with gestures as small as a nod or a single word; ‘uh-huh,’ Succession reveals a woven dimensionality within each character. This is achieved to such effect that the hedonistic, harmful and corrupt framework that make up their lives still leaves ample room for moments of humanising empathy. The Roy sibling’s lives are shown to be a hollow shell of desire, void of real human connection – a priceless and precious commodity each tries to acquire from their abusive father. Despite the luxury their hoarded wealth affords them, the viewer is jarringly positioned to pity them for the environment they grew up in.
At its core, the appeal of Succession rotates around a family dynamic that is not unique in its abuse. What draws us into the darkness of the siblings especially is the light fleetingly present within each of them. Despite the constant harmful turbulence displayed within their sibling dynamic, their individual relationships with their abusive father reveal a desire for affirmation and acceptance. Their shared and individual psychological and emotional trauma stem from being raised in Logan's suffocating household. They continue to perpetuate a sibling hierarchy informed by the manipulation of their father – at times parroting his exact same words – to each other. We are drawn to each of them despite their shocking actions as each choice is informed by a traumatic need to finally garner acceptance, an emotion that is almost universal. This acceptance is symbolised by the hopes of becoming Logan’s successor. However, Logan’s use of triangulation, ultimately renders his affection unobtainable and their efforts pointless as he loves nothing more than the power. From Shiv and Roman being antagonistic towards Kendall (reluctantly agreeing for him to be interim CEO in the first season) to Shiv publishing a humiliating and cruel letter against her brother in season three, we've seen the extreme lengths they are all willing to go through to come out on top. A recent poll of 2,000 adults found 51% still have a competitive relationship with their siblings well into adulthood. Some experts even believe siblings subconsciously want to ‘kill off’ their rivals - ie, their siblings - for parental affection or affirmation. Drawing back to Cain and Abel archetypes, the siblings' perpetual battle against each other and their father only serves to a futile end.
On the surface, it's a classic Shakespearean tragedy of a fruitless fight to the top, but underneath, it's an exploration of the hubris and corruption of individuality and how it keeps us trapped in cycles.
The genuis of the show lies in its constant cycle of catharsis. We witness unremorseful harm and selfishness in the actions of characters that warrant punishment. However, when this punishment happens, this catharsis is achieved through an even more harmful and selfish action disproportionately delivered by another character who kickstarts the entire cycle again . In this way pity and disgust run parallel within relationships between not only the characters themselves but also the viewers. We see the siblings – Connor, Roman, Shiv and Kendall compete for control of their family’s media powerhouse as a way to earn their father’s love and approval. It is a testament to the actor’s performances that although we certainly might not relate to their ostentatious lifestyle, there are times when we can connect to their emotional states. There are a few scenes where we get to see their unbreakable bond cultivated from being raised in the same family and how they can come through for each other when it matters, emotionally. For example, after Logan gets violent with Roman and without hesitation, we see Kendall, who is well under his father’s thumb at this point, pivot to defend his brother, standing up to Logan and shouting, ‘Don’t fucking touch him!” Even after the insults and betrayal, it's comforting to see a line, however thin, drawn at some basic instinctual level of each others emotional safety.
Succession is not a show that leans on pathos and catharsis, and it’s hard for any character to generate sympathy. However, every scene builds and breaks the siblings’ moral duality, they constantly find a home in each other that they cannot help but destroy in a pattern of trauma. The finale of season three really depicts the strength in a bond that overshadows their abuse. They manage to pivot away from their childhood needs and realise that acceptance from their abuser can be substituted by each other. Seeing them band together for the first time against their father is almost enough for us to suspend our dislike of each character’s abuse as we root for them, finally breaking the constant cycle of catharsis. At the last minute their breakthrough is disbanded from an outside force. This is what makes Succession so great. On the surface, it's a classic Shakespearean tragedy of a fruitless fight to the top, but underneath, it's an exploration of the hubris and corruption of individuality and how it keeps us trapped in cycles. The dark ones at that and how they interact with one another. That is why we keep watching.