Family is the perfect subject for a TV series. Because in your hands are characters who know each other, maybe hate each other, and certainly envy each other, and you can talk about anything. Whatever it is, we confirm it. From time, from money, from betrayal. From the pods – they always look good, those. New marriages, old loves, childhood traumas, etc. You can do this because in one family there is the whole world, and in the whole world there are millions and millions of families. They are all different and at the same time they are all the same.
The Roys, champions Succession, exception. And yet they remind us—little, very little; But also many, many more – what we are. Above all, they remind us of the Murdochs (and to make that connection, you don’t need a great imagination; Jesse Armstrong himself, the screenwriter and writer of the show, had years before written a film on the subject, never produced: When Life Happens).
They’re rich and powerful, the Ruiz. They operate in the world of entertainment and information, viewing newspapers as a political stake and influence; They know they can change the fate of an entire country. It’s ready for flicks, scoops, and reality warping—there’s no one-size-fits-all version, after all; There is only a version of who arrives first, who makes the biggest sound.
The patriarch Logan, played by Brian Cox, talks to the President of the United States all the time. And when he doesn’t answer his phone calls, because another scandal has broken out, he gets angry. But how dare you, he says. And he hangs up the phone on the table. There are fools in Succession. Even the dumbest idiots on this TV show are less stupid than the idiots on this other side of the screen. Because, for Armstrong, dialogue is everything.
These characters live in the words they say, and they also live in the expressions and actions of their actors — for heaven’s sake. But then it all goes from there, from this endless stream of noises and pauses and questions. From those confused stutterers, from consonants crushing vowels, and so on. It’s not Aaron Sorkin. There is no such obsession with the form and composition of sentences—sound first, then meaning—but something resists.
Dignitaries Succession They shock absolute truths, which can apply to anyone, and do so in the same natural way that we get wet. Succession He’s talking, as the title says, of inheritance – and don’t be put off by the obvious – succession. Because the patriarch is tired and his princes cannot wait to kill him and replace him. At first they said no, they weren’t interested: who wants a life like that, responsible, always in the eye of the storm, hated, mistreated, criticized, constantly labeled a fascist. And so Kendall, played by Jeremy Strong, seems to have the reins free: It’s over, it’s my turn. Instead.
Instead, exactly the unthinkable happens—to normal life, mind you; Not for the TV story. The patriarch returns from retirement, which is a bit like a grave, gets back on his feet, and realizes that all he has and can do is family business: I made myself, I came out of nowhere (reminds you of something already, sorry: does it remind you of anyone?). Then he fights. Not in a modern style, mind you. Tooth and claw fight, crouch, move and aim below the belt. He fights as long as he can, he fights until the other side asks for mercy and forgiveness. Because even that, if you want, can be a lesson.
Children don’t just want their father killed, they want to be loved – and that’s one of the other great truths Succession. A drama worthy of Shakespeare begins, and the most beautiful things seem to be the simplest. Forget about flights, Italian vacations, and helicopters that arrive like a taxi at the slightest fingertips (and after minutes and minutes of waiting on the phone): the best come when everyone is seated around a table, ready to eat, licking your fingers to close for once; But no, instead they talk, hurl bullets and poison, look each other in the eyes and masks come off. There is no person more terrible than a brother (or sister). Because not only does he know your worst side, but he doesn’t mind bringing it back in your face and laughing at it. It doesn’t hurt you, no. But for his personal pleasure.
Yes, the rich are rich, but they make their sadness their signature mark. And then of course: the nonsense that money doesn’t bring happiness is half true, maybe three-quarters true. Because with big bank accounts come big responsibilities — and worries, especially worries.
Over the course of four seasons and nearly forty episodes, we’ve seen it all. We repeat it again: whatever. The husband who works for him simply because he is the husband, the cousin who arrives hoping to find fortune and who, despite his apparent inability, finds a job. Children who bite each other, who hug each other, and bite each other again. The wives who go and the wives who return. Meetings in castles, real weddings and fake weddings, secret agreements and conventions in the sunshine. Alcohol, a lot of alcohol. panic attacks The misery of public life and the difficulty of having our voice heard. then the father, always the father, who never stops–never, not even for a moment; Not even when there is – to give lessons. For he knows, because he has seen. For the plate was never served and ready: he had to get his food. with bare hands.
The actors, guided by Armstrong’s gospel, are very good. We’ve mentioned Brian Cox and Jeremy Strong, but there’s also, in no particular order, Kieran Culkin, who plays Roman Roy, and Sarah Snook, who plays Siobhan “Chef” Roy; Nicholas Brown, who plays Greg Hirsch, Matthew Macfadyen, who plays Tom Wambsgan, and J Smith-Cameron, who plays Jerry Kellman. Other actors have been added from time to time, during the various episodes.
Good ones are also judged on what they inspire in others, and in the literature and in the production of pieces and the reviews and opinions they manage to fuel. Succession It filled our daily lives – our lives, with this miserable bubble – for whole years. After one season, we desperately waited for the next. And once the final episodes kicked off, we were queasy in fear of the grand finale (airing on Sky and available now from May 29th).
Succession I changed the TV. And he changed it vigorously, and shook it, and turned it upside down, and repeated again one of the great banalities of the age; An insignificance that must always seem to be brought to light: if there is no writing worthy of a name, there is no masterpiece; And if you don’t start from ideas, from the form of written things, it’s almost impossible to come up with Emmy-worthy interpretations. Jesse Armstrong, defect Successionhis father, his master, has had the great merit of showing another truth of this thing which we call entertainment, namely: those who not only can do it, but are also successful.
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