“Kendall Roy ordered the fennel salad and picked at it inquisitively.”
That’s not my line—that’s straight from the character’s mouth in the latest episode of HBO’s Succession, when Kendall cheekily suggests that’s how a journalist can open her article about him. But it sets a fair barometer for where we find the Roy children early in the long-anticipated third season better than I could hope to: playing off traditional expectations and tropes in a wry, smug, and perennially annoying way.
I’ve heard (justified) criticism of the season’s early episodes stating that season three is basically more of the same for Succession. The show follows Logan Roy, global media conglomerate head and foul-mouthed patriarch, and the four children who vie for power at his company, Waystar RoyCo – along with their father’s approval (whether they admit it or not).
As such, some say the show has fallen stagnant in its early throes. The show’s pilot opened with questions about who would take over control of Waystar, and we’re still waiting for an answer or even a clear lead from any one of the siblings.
For those uninitiated, our sibling roster contains the following: distant eldest brother Connor (half-sibling of the rest and treated accordingly like the complete non-threat he is), power-hungry heir apparent (until he screws it up) Kendall, debauched Roman, and Shiv (short for Siobhan), the only sister.
Despite some judgements, the most recent episode at my time of writing (which aired October 31) shows clear forward motion in the show’s plot. In doing so, it also highlights some uncomfortable home truths about where we find ourselves at this point in the pandemic and life in general.
Season three is very modern thus far: Kendall is obsessed with his Twitter presence, Shiv is the embodiment of “gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss,” and viral social-commentary comedian Ziwe even makes a cameo. By peppering in these cultural nods, the show’s writers do well to establish contemporaneity in 2021 despite not actually mentioning COVID (It’s worth noting that staying quiet about COVID was an intentional choice, according to Sarah Snook, who plays Shiv: “Unfortunately, none of the world’s really wealthy people were going to be affected by the pandemic”).
The constant evolution of the show’s context extends to its characters as well. The Roy children have leaned further into the inklings we’ve seen from the beginning, with mixed results.
I confess I first started the show rooting for Shiv: I saw a politically-savvy, ambitious woman making her way in a man’s world (in a great fall wardrobe, nonetheless). While I was promptly disavowed of that notion, it’s clear that Shiv continues to see herself as a good person by virtue of her work for a Bernie Sanders-like politician and her brief career outside the Waystar nest. In the most recent episode, Kendall hijacks Shiv’s public debut as a mid-level executive at Waystar with a prank. She gets her older brother back by publishing an open letter detailing false concern about his addictions, poor parenting track record, and problematic past relationships with women, all while maintaining a clear sense of moral superiority.
Others root more for Kendall, who finished season two having blown up his father’s leadership by exposing deep misconduct and indiscretions that Logan helped to hide at Waystar. It’s clear to viewers that he did this at least in part to prove his father’s second-season statement that he’s simply not a “killer” wrong. Now, Kendall has proven he can kill—he just has no idea what comes after that.
Kendall has no plan and no clear vision for the company beyond, “On a dumb level, I’d like my Twitter to be off the hook.” Walking into a black-tie event, he shouts “F–k the patriarchy” at journalists to “give them something.” He continues to be more obsessed with what others think of him than his actual next move, spending his time playing games like “Good Tweet, Bad Tweet” about himself with his new posse.
And then we have Roman: beyond his bizarre flirtation with middle-aged general counsel and acting CEO Gerri Kellman, he’s uncharacteristically quiet this season. Arguably, that could pay off for his power play. He has less space to cause trouble at Waystar, and oddly, Roman might be the most loyal sibling that adheres to family values this season. When Shiv asks him to sign her inflammatory open letter, he demurs, somewhat jokingly but still sentimentally claiming a residual fondness for Kendall because “he taught [him] how to aim [his] pee-pee in the toilet.” Logan supports his decision, not because it’s loyal, but because it causes the fewest waves for the company.
As we see family and business loyalties wax and wane this early in the season, the Roy siblings continue to try to figure out how to balance their individual hungers for power with messy familial relationships. And when they do show loyalty—to their father and to each other—they expect a pat on the back, even though that loyalty is always on their own terms.
I found this theme particularly resonant at this point in the pandemic, as the world slowly opens up again and we’re left with more freedom over our own actions than we’ve had under previous government restrictions. Every choice we make to benefit our communities’ greater goods, whether abstaining from a big party or making grandiose statements about the need to social-distance, feels like a personal sacrifice of the abilities we used to take for granted. We want to be commended for the bare minimum, but it’s exactly that in a time of crisis: The bare minimum.
Like Logan, I get it. None of us, including me, including him, are paragons of constant virtue. On the pandemic level, we continue to try our best to make sense of our ever-changing environment. We want to show that we care.
But just like Kendall’s suggested opening gambit for his interviewer, that self-awareness doesn’t make attempts at moral exemplariness any less annoying.