The unbearable lightness of Succession

* Spoilers ahead + Comments on the finale

What is Succession but a constant merry-go-round of family backstabbing, cynicism, and hypocrisy, just like the jangling piano and stabbing strings of the series music theme suggests? Add a bit of game-of-thrones style competition for the CEO chair of the Waystar-Royco company, with plenty of nepotism on the side, and a knife-to-the-bone criticism of US capitalism as cherry-on-top, and you have the recipe for a ridiculously well crafted and successful TV series which could have probably tied up the narrative a little bit faster and would have been fine with 3 seasons instead of 4.

Just like most successful series, Season 1 of Succession delivers a fine, suspenseful script with a healthy chunk of subtext. Seasons 2 and 3 seem lag in comparison, a little bit of a repetition of the same problems around the central theme: constant competition on all fronts among the siblings, family-wise and corporate-wise, on top of the standard unhealthy family relationships undertones. The constant attempts by Kendall to overthrow his father get old, even though they try to hit the right note, pointing where it hurts: the corrupt underbelly of the patriarchal corporate system that allows for sexual exploitation and protects the culprits.

The style of the Cinematography is appropriate for this kind of message. Unlike other series and films about billionaire protagonists, Succession denies the glamour surrounding this particular privileged class of people and uses realistic photography and documentary-style handheld cameras, to evoke a sense of the ordinary and expresses the intention of the story clearly: you will get the truth, no matter how awful it is.

Despite the entertaining banter among the siblings, you often feel sick of observing a father fight with his own children over money and power. You can't identify with the characters no matter how hard you try, and I guess, this is the point. For any good side in their character that appears now and then, they have several abhorrent ones. Can you identify with a father that only cares to win, even against his own kids? It's not even about teaching his children a lesson; it seems to be all about his narcissism, since he doesn't care where his company ends up. He only cares to keep his legend alive. Equally hard to digest is the other side of the problem. How about those entitled children of his, who would do anything to get what they think they deserve - including stripping him of his own fortune?

There is no worthy successor for Logan Roy. But everyone wants to kiss the ring. That's where Season 4 picks up the story, from the same thread Season 1 does: the Birthday party of the "King" where everyone is there to grovel and pay their respects. Only, now, most of the kids are dead set to work together against their father, cash out and leave the family business, instead of striving to gain his favor for the Waystar-Royco throne.

Logan Roy is a man of a few words. You can almost see him play chess inside his head, as he is letting out just enough bravado to spook everyone around him. He's a legend and he maintains his luster. Carefully. Not afraid to turn into a bull in a glass house and humiliate his colleagues and his family when the opportunity demands it. That way, he's always the one who holds the reins.

Season 4 sets the central question: will the company dissolve, finally, since there is no apparent successor worthy enough to inherit it? Through certain scenes, I couldn't help but feel Logan must have set his kids up. His decision to sell felt like an elaborate ploy to test his kids, to see if their business acumen improves. There were moments when I thought he would finally get what he wanted in the end. Which is, feel that his company is safe in the hands of his offspring. Well, that did not materialize at all. I should have known better. This story wouldn't have a happy ending no matter what.

His children hold very conflicting emotions for him throughout the series. Admiration for the man, and respect for what he has built; but also, fear, and even hate, at times. He manipulates everyone around him and uses every trick in the book to hold on to as much power as he can. He justifies this on his understanding of the world. “I'm a great revolutionary. A bit of spice, a bit of fun, a bit of truth. I fuckin' know things about the world, or I wouldn't turn a buck," he says at some point, and he adds: “Not Necessarily Nice Things.” He is profoundly disappointed his kids don't seem to understand this world, and blames himself constantly for having spoiled them.

Every season after the first one falls short of economy in the storytelling. Writers seem to enjoy the obscene and vulgar dialogue a bit too much. You can't help but feel, “What is the point?” Characters repeatedly oscillate between love and hate for their father (Kendall, especially) and this gets old – just like the fact that every time their plans change, we know they will fail. Their strategies reverse at every opportunity they sniff, thinking they can cox the competition among them, and win allies. Guess what. They always pick the shortest straw.

Wouldn't it be simpler and less time-consuming to nail down some characters' arcs to the bare essentials? It all boils down to the fact that the father is sure none of his children deserve to run his empire, and he decides to destroy it. His children do not change. He is the only one who changes his mind in a profound way when he decides to sell out.

In the last season, we end up with the American media corporate giant sold out to a Swede. Who expected the Europeans to outsmart and dethrone the Americans from their business empire? The CEO of Waystar, Tom Wambsgans, functions as a pawn in GoJo founder's game (Alexander Skarsgård's Lukas Matsson.) We expected Tom to lick some tycoon's boots. It's only money, after all, and America's legend is sold out to the highest bidder. As for politics, the fate of the States is now in the hands of a fascist (Justin Kirk's Jeryd Mencken.) It would be funny, if this combination didn't cut so close to the bone, reminding us of Trump's political legacy, and Fox News' role in it.

Tom is the one who gets The Chair after all; and also, the girl – ironically, his own wife (Siobhan.) Who expected the story of this couple would be the defining story for this series? I certainly didn't see it coming. It felt equally surprising and very fitting – which is always the best balance a good ending needs to strike.

As the finale culminated, I could appreciate the look of relief on Roman's face as he enjoyed his drink, finally free of all the burden of the leader, a role he was always very keen on undertaking, but never sure enough of himself in order to get it. Deep down, he knew he wasn't cut out for it. “We are trash,” he says to his siblings in the finale. Cinematography beautifully frames Kendall's disappointment as the sun sets on the retreating CEO who would never be king, even if it looked like he might have made it for a moment.

Shiv's choice was the defining one, and she chose to be with her husband - he's the one who holds the reins now. She decides to play under him. Unbelievable. For a show that felt it had lost the point by repeating itself for quite some time, the final message is quite clear. Sexism is still alive and kicking in the 21st century. Women might seem to get ahead for a while in business, they may be promised power, but they will not get it. Shiv chooses the lesser of two evils. Instead of losing the company completely, she decides to play the role of the Queen next to a flimsy new King. Shiv's hand on top of her husband's in the last scene of her, conceding, seems like a last promise by the show runners that Shiv might one day fight again for the throne. Thankfully, we don't have to sit and watch for another round.