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    ‘Succession’ Creator Still Has ‘a Lot of Sympathy’ for the Roys

    In an interview, the “Succession” creator looked back on the end of the show and discussed Marxism, extreme wealth and whether any of his characters were remotely likable.Jesse Armstrong didn’t always know how “Succession” would end. But he knew how that ending would feel. “It was always a bit about human mortality and the mortality of these kinds of media operations,” he said. As early as the pilot, he added, “I knew what the tone of the ending would be.”“Succession, “which ran for four seasons on HBO, aired its final episode on May 28. The final season earned a staggering 27 Emmy nominations — the most of any show this year — including one for outstanding drama series, which it has won twice before. Throughout, the show centered on Logan Roy (Brian Cox), the self-made overlord of a conservative media and theme park empire, and his children and hangers on.Sardonic, wintry, profane, the show was a queasy mix of satire and tragedy, corporate intrigue and deeply human drama. Each episode inspired flurries of memes and think pieces. And though none of the characters seemed to enjoy their obscene wealth, the show’s high thread-count style, dubbed “quiet luxury” or “stealth wealth,” birthed countless knockoffs.On a recent morning, at a Brooklyn hotel slightly too plebeian for the Roys, Armstrong sat at a cafe table in a rumpled navy blue shirt and trousers that almost matched. He was in town to receive a Founders Award from the International Emmys. “I guess it’s one of those honorary awards for people at the end of their careers who are being shuffled off,” he said, with typically English self-deprecation.The writers’ strike precluded Armstrong from engaging in much discussion about the end of “Succession” when the finale aired six months ago. (He spent the strike in London, recovering.) Yet time has hardly dulled the beige sheen of “Succession.” In January it will likely dominate the Emmy Awards — all of the main cast received nominations and Armstrong earned two, for writing and as an executive producer — and no other show has come to replace it in the cultural consciousness. Fashions come and fashions go, but an interest in the ultrarich and their infighting? Timeless.Over a flat white, not his first of the day, and with occasional pauses to tend to leg cramps (he had spent the early morning playing soccer in McCarren Park), Armstrong discussed Marxism, extreme wealth and whether any of these characters were remotely likable. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.The overriding question of the series was who would succeed Logan Roy. Could the show have ended without answering it?Most viewers are watching for pleasures other than the horse race. But it’s not illegitimate to watch the horse race and wonder who’s going to win. That would be the sort of question I might come into the writers’ room with, like, “What would it be like if we didn’t give a successor? Could that be interesting?” Through a process of discussion with smart people, we were like, “No, that would be annoying. Let’s not do it.” One of the reasons for ending the show is that it starts to become either ridiculous or annoying if you continually defer that decision.“Succession” ended in May and its final season has since earned 27 Emmy nominations, the most of any show this year.David Russell/HBOHorses can only go around the track so many times before they start stumbling and you have to shoot them. Was “Succession” a comedy or a drama?I just know that it was a tone that was amenable to me. Not all of the scenes have a comic twist. There’s some torque applied to the characters and the situations, which reminds me of comedy, but it isn’t always a comedy. I wrote the pilot before I’d met Nick Britell and heard his score. But it’s like I knew what the score was going to be — wonky and ironical and knowing, but it also has these depths to it. I guess that’s maybe the mortality. I was thinking a lot about Robert Maxwell, a British media veteran who either killed himself or died falling off his yacht; [Rupert] Murdoch, who is in the twilight of his years; and Sumner Redstone, who died while we were doing the show. That’s the tough bit of the show, which gives it a slightly different flavor.I like to think of myself as someone with a decent amount of empathy. I kept wanting to feel for these characters, then I gave up. Was I meant to sympathize with them?It was never really a consideration. That may be a defect in our working process. Maybe I could try to elicit the audience’s sympathy for someone, but I wouldn’t want to with this show. It would just feel so fake. It’s a show with these particular familial dynamics and with this relationship to power and money. Everything flowed from that. It wasn’t like, Oh, let’s try and push people away or draw them in. It was just, Let’s show these people and then we’ll see what happens. It would not be impossible for us to say, Is that too horrible a thing to do? But if it could happen or would happen, we’d always say, let’s do it.What is your attitude toward great wealth?I have a European sense that a more equal society will make everyone happier. That’s a pretty basic formulation. But I feel a little ridiculous saying it. It’s not very healthy, is it, that huge accumulation of wealth?From left, Justine Lupe, Alan Ruck, Kieran Culkin, Jeremy Strong and Sarah Snook in the final season. “They do bad stuff,” Armstrong said of the Roys. “But you see where they come from psychologically.”Macall B. Polay/HBOIs it possible for it not to be deforming?It’s a question, isn’t it? I think anything is possible for human beings. There are very rich people who have an empathetic relationship to the world. Some people use their power for the greater good. On a psychological level, it doesn’t necessarily need to make you go crazy. It just often does.The show takes more of a psychological view than a Marxist one. That’s the level at which I do have a lot of sympathy for the characters and I would hope that the audience does too. They are pretty bad. They do bad stuff. But you see where they come from psychologically. That’s one of the tragedies of those kids’ lives. You don’t see a ton of friends. They live these deracinated international lives. They are deeply unmoored. One of the few more things they have is family and it has that incredible magnetism for them. It’s like they’re hooking up constantly to an IV drip and they don’t realize that there’s a percentage of poison in the IV. It’s not making them better. It’s making them sicker.So it wasn’t just Marxist propaganda, your series?That’s what we intended, but we were waylaid.“Succession” didn’t usually show these characters enjoying their wealth. Why not?We did make a decision that we would try not to glamorize the wealth. A lot of the spaces that these people inhabit, these five-star hotels and private plane interiors, it’s not actually a beautiful world. That came from the research. There’s not a lot of fun going on in those worlds. Everyone is constantly thinking of the press release rather than the pleasure. That didn’t come from a precept that great wealth won’t make you happy. It probably could do. But not for these people.Did viewers’ passion for the show surprise you?We put a lot into it. And yeah, there’s a lot to discuss. Now I’ve gone back and looked at interesting things and read stuff about the show. At the time, I kept my nose out of most of the reactions, because it wasn’t useful to know what people were thinking about the show. You can get a bit bent out of shape. I like critics. I believe in criticism as an important part of keeping the cultural world going. But I didn’t look at a ton of stuff before the show ended.Did you read the piece I wrote saying that the show made me a worse person?No. Oh dear. Sorry. It’s a very particular world, right? It’s a portrayal of what is possible within the moral universe created by a business and a family. The possibilities are really circumscribed. But they exist. The intention is to show this world truthfully as possible. But, yeah. Sorry. More

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    Unpacking the Roy Family in That Pivotal ‘Succession’ Episode

    The Roy family has never felt more human than it has in this season’s third episode — or more alien.In her 1969 book “On Death and Dying,” the psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross described the five emotional stages of people at the end of life: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Kübler-Ross’s model has since been popularly applied to the grief process. The implication is that all of us who live, love and die are in this way the same.“Succession” appears to have done its psych homework. In the tour-de-force episode “Connor’s Wedding” — spoilers begin here — the Roy siblings learn by phone of their father Logan’s fatal collapse, while he is on a jet crossing the Atlantic, and begin racing through Kübler-Ross’s stages.One part of the show’s genius has always been its portrayal of the superwealthy Roys as both deeply human and alien. As it is in life, so it is in death. The Roys’ reactions are, broadly, familiar to anyone who’s ever gotten similar news. It’s in the particulars that this family is very different.Let’s start with denial. In one sense, Logan’s death may be the least surprising big surprise in HBO drama history. His health has always been shaky, and the show’s very title asks what or who will come after him. But when the inevitable suddenly happens, instinct still kicks in: This can’t be real.“Real,” as any viewer of “Succession” knows, is a key word for the Roy family. It’s a measure of worth, separating people who are “real” — important, worthy of concern — from those who are merely numbers on a ledger.It’s also a fraught term for characters who grew up in a, shall we say, low-trust environment. “Is this real?” Shiv (Sarah Snook) asks, with good reason, when Logan (Brian Cox) offers in Season 2 to let her take over his media empire. It’s the series’s refrain: This deal, this promise, this expression of love — can I take it to the bank?So when Roman (Kieran Culkin) manically refuses to accept the news — “What if it’s a big [expletive] test?” — yes, he is being irrational. But he is also operating by the logic of the only reality he has ever known. What isn’t a test with Logan? His last words to Roman were to order him to fire his lieutenant Gerri (J. Smith-Cameron), with whom Roman had a bond (and occasional rounds of masochistic sex chat). When Roman hesitates, Logan asks, “You are with me?”About Logan’s death, Roman keeps repeating, “We don’t know.” And the episode, written by the creator, Jesse Armstrong, and directed by Mark Mylod, cleverly puts the viewers in his position. We can see inside the plane, but we can’t see much of Logan, only the crew performing compressions on a body. Only when Shiv spills her frenzied last words into his cold ear do we finally see his face. I will admit to having wondered if Roman was right. Yes, it would be insane for Logan to fake his death. But a side effect of growing up Roy is learning to read your most intimate family moments as potential plot twists and fake-outs.Anger and bargaining, in Roy World, tend to operate as a team. There’s anger at Logan, of course. Each Roy child sputters a word salad of love and hurt and fury into the phone. But anger is also a reaction to helplessness. Kendall (Jeremy Strong) demands to have “the best airplane medicine expert in the world” brought onto the call, growing frustrated and incensed, as if he could cheat Death by demanding to speak to its manager.From the beginning of the phone call to when we cut to the corporate-response discussion aboard the plane is less than 20 minutes, and Armstrong packs a lifetime into it.Every line, every image, speaks to the moment and to decades of family trauma and relationships: Roman’s forcing himself to say that Logan was a good dad, then handing off the phone like it’s radioactive; Shiv’s becoming at once a terrified girl and a furious grown daughter; Kendall and Shiv’s holding hands as they go to break the news to their half brother, Connor (Alan Ruck), on his wedding day. (Ruck has done spectacular emotional work with comparatively little screen time, and he does it again here: “He never even liked me.”)By the time we return from the plane to the wedding yacht in New York, depression is creeping in. And acceptance — well, that too has a different meaning in this family.Logan (Brian Cox, left) as seen with Tom (Matthew Macfadyen) moments before Logan’s plane ride flies him into the Great Beyond.David Russell/HBOThe Roys live in an environment where everything is personal and nothing is entirely private. Your family is your family, but it’s also a business. Your father’s death is your father’s death — bound up with a lifetime of resentment and thwarted love — but it is also a “material event” that requires disclosure. (“Succession” is known for its clever, filthy dialogue, but it also has an ear for the bland brutality of business-speak.) Your emotions may be complicated and genuine, but their expression is inevitably tactical. As Kendall says, “What we do today will always be what we did the day our father died.”Your father is the man who loved you or hit you or molded you or disappointed you, but he is also an expensive corporate asset, an asset that has now failed. And its failure must be announced and adjusted to, even as you adjust to the fundamental reordering of the universe.The dialogue shifts seamlessly from shock to grieving to maneuvering. The firmament has shattered. God — or the devil, or both — is dead. That vacuum must be filled, and the deluge prepared for, whether you are family, staff or, like Shiv’s estranged husband, Tom (Matthew Macfadyen), an unhappy bit of both. “I have lost my protector,” he says, like a “Game of Thrones” bannerman realizing that his head may soon part company with his neck.It’s a bold and potent move for Armstrong, who has one of TV’s greatest actors in Cox, to give us none of this from Logan’s point of view. We don’t know what he was thinking at the end. We, like his children, don’t know what he felt or if he heard their last words. There is no closure, no satisfaction. He will forever be a question mark at the center of the universe.Instead, a scene from the season’s first episode amounts to his last testament. Restless and unsettled at a birthday celebration that Kendall, Roman and Shiv have chosen not to attend, Logan ends up at a diner with his body man, Colin (Scott Nicholson), whom — is it possible to pity Logan Roy? — he calls his “best pal.”To his wary companion, Logan launches into what now sounds like a deathbed monologue. “What are people?” he asks Colin, and then answers his own question: “What is a person? It has values and aims, but it operates in a market. Marriage market, job market, money market, market for ideas, et cetera.” And while he is a winner in the judgment of the market — “a hundred feet tall” where most people are “pygmies” — he doesn’t seem to feel like one.At last, he asks Colin whether he believes in the afterlife, and again, Logan supplies his own answer. “We don’t know,” he says. “We can’t know. But I’ve got my suspicions.”Those suspicions were confirmed or denied on an airplane floor thousands of feet above the Atlantic Ocean, a most appropriate choice for “Succession.” The series is about people untethered to place, who move from vehicle to vehicle, from one antiseptic luxury space to another.So this is a most fitting end for Logan Roy — to die in no country, in the expensive no-space of a corporate jet, his last moments relayed to a yacht docked off the financial district, where the market will weigh and digest his death as it does all human effort and sorrow. As Roman says, a plunging chart line on his phone indicating Waystar Royco’s share price: “There he is. That is Dad.”There is one vehicular transfer left for Logan Roy. We end the episode at Teterboro Airport, where his shrouded body is deplaned and loaded into an ambulance. Kendall looks on, taking a private, pensive moment before what comes next: The period when his father’s passing becomes a news event, and most likely, a contest.Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance belong to us all. But for a Roy, there is a sixth stage of grief: ambition. More

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    Matthew Macfadyen Has Mixed Feelings About the End of ‘Succession’

    Could there be a more excruciatingly awkward TV character than Tom Wambsgans in “Succession”? Played with understated comic glee by the British actor Matthew Macfadyen, Tom manages to simultaneously exist on all points of the show’s power spectrum: bullied, bullying and wafting helplessly in between.Over most of three seasons, Tom has stayed one and a half steps behind the machinations at Waystar Royco, the company run by his imperious father-in-law, Logan Roy (Brian Cox), while being treated with casual contempt by his wife, Shiv (Sarah Snook).So it came as a shock when Tom pulled himself together at the end of Season 3 to orchestrate a stunning power play, teaming with Logan against Shiv and two of her brothers in an epic battle over Waystar’s future.Not that this guarantees Tom will end up on top in the fourth and final season of “Succession,” which begins Sunday on HBO. (Whatever “on top” really means when the pole is as greasy and compromised as this one.)“Tom may be in Logan’s camp, but it’s not an easy camp to be in,” Macfadyen said on a February afternoon, sipping a bitters and soda in Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle Hotel. “He still doesn’t feel particularly secure, and he’s still worrying about his relationship with Shiv. And everyone else is still maneuvering and jockeying and competing.”If Macfadyen is operatically ill at ease in “Succession,” in reality he is the opposite: relaxed, easygoing and affable, his voice deep and self-assured, with none of his character’s nervous tics or frantic efforts to read his fate in others’ eyes. While Tom is beset by inner demons and crippling insecurity, Macfadyen comes across as remarkably well adjusted, someone happy to do his job and not get too wound up about it. He uses the word “lovely” a lot.Long a familiar face to British viewers, Macfadyen had been mostly under the radar on this side of the Atlantic before “Succession.” If Americans knew him at all, it was likely in his guise as a different Tom — Tom Quinn, an arrogant yet vulnerable spy in the first two seasons of the British series “Spooks” (known in the U.S. as “MI-5”), starting in 2002. Or they might have seen him playing a brooding, tortured Mr. Darcy in Joe Wright’s “Pride and Prejudice” (2005), or a Victorian detective in the BBC series “Ripper Street.”Macfadyen and Nicholas Braun, who plays Cousin Greg, in the new season of “Succession.” The actors have teamed in some of the show’s funniest scenes.Macall B. Polay/HBOIn “Stonehouse,” from earlier this year, Macfadyen teamed with his wife, the British actor Keeley Hawes. “It was fun to get a chance to see Keeley at work,” he said. BritBoxIt was a different role that won over Jesse Armstrong, the “Succession” creator: Macfadyen’s turn as the drunkenly bumptious Sir Felix Carbury in “The Way We Live Now” (2001), a British mini-series based on the Trollope novel.“He’s well known in the U.K. as being able to play all sorts of parts, though most people wouldn’t necessarily know him as a comic actor,” Armstrong said.While Tom began “Succession” largely on the fringes, “I knew this role would be significant and important,” Armstrong said. As the series went on, the writers played to Macfadyen’s antic comic skills and ability to show Tom’s poignant vulnerability in quieter moments.“In a show that’s about power and its manifestations, Matthew is very good at playing a character who is the crux of a number of different power relationships,” Armstrong said. “He’s good at showing Tom’s willingness to shape and adjust his personality to fit into the power structure.” (As Macfadyen explained recently on “The Tonight Show,” one way he does this is by raising and lowering the pitch of Tom’s voice depending on who else is in the scene.)Macfadyen, 48, was born in England but raised abroad, including for several years in Jakarta, Indonesia, because of his father’s job in the oil business. He went to boarding school back home, skipped college and enrolled instead at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. After graduation, he toured internationally in the Cheek by Jowl theater ensemble, performing in plays like “The Duchess of Malfi” and “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”He had a breakthrough when he was cast as Hareton Earnshaw in the 1998 British TV adaptation of “Wuthering Heights,” followed quickly by a two-part BBC film, “Warriors,” in which he played a U.N. peacekeeper in Bosnia. He has worked steadily since. “You just get a momentum,” he said.Macfadyen has a tendency, common to English actors, to downplay his own work, as if it all flows effortlessly from him. He also has a predilection for supporting roles.“I feel sometimes you can get in a rut when you play leading men,” he said. “It’s much more fun being the baddie or the clown.”Tom has stood out from the start of “Succession,” but Macfadyen has never felt compelled to demand more airtime. “I don’t feel like it’s my character,” he said. “It’s Jesse’s, and I’m the conduit for it.”Mark Sommerfeld for The New York Times“Succession” is full of big names and memorable characters, including the three Roy boys: Kendall (Jeremy Strong), Roman (Kieran Culkin) and Connor (Alan Ruck), each appalling and damaged in his own special way. But Tom Wambsgans — mercurial yet sensitive, diabolical yet almost constantly hapless — stood out from the beginning.There is the matter of his strange last name, its awkward B bristling aggressively in a string of consonants, defying casual pronunciation. There is his status as a Roy punching bag, a man whose wife announced on their wedding night that she wanted an open marriage and whose father-in-law dangles power before him but uses him as a scapegoat and bagman. There is his loopy relationship with Cousin Greg (Nicholas Braun), a sadomasochistic romp that Armstrong describes as a “homoerotic power play.”While Tom is no dummy, his awkwardness is so easy to mistake for stupidity that sometimes even Macfadyen does it. “Jesse will remind Nick and me, ‘He’s running a billion-dollar wing of this company; he’s not a total moron,’” he said.Over four seasons of filming in New York City, the “Succession” cast became particularly close, and it was not unusual to see them dining around town in various configurations in what Macfadyen called “the ‘Succession’ supper club.” He often had dinner with Snook, his fictional wife, and other cast members.“I don’t know how he’s managed to make such an obsequious and bullying character likable, but he has,” Snook said. “He’s one of those actors who’s got such love and empathy and compassion and curiosity for the world that he can really fashion a character into anything he wants.”Macfadyen seems to be that rare thing: an actor without a huge ego. (Or perhaps he is such a good actor that he can hide his egotism.) Among other things, he said, he has never felt compelled to demand more airtime or a better story arc for Tom.“I’ve seen actors get very proprietorial about their ‘journey,’” he said. “But I don’t feel like it’s my character — it’s Jesse’s, and I’m the conduit for it.”Also, he added, “You don’t want to get attached to a possible story line, because they may change their minds.”Braun said that Macfadyen has a genuine selflessness, a helpful quality in a series in which numerous actors are often in a single scene. He also praised Macfadyen’s uncanny ability to stay in the moment while performing, and to do so with an un-showy absence of vanity.“He doesn’t expend a lot of extra energy before a scene,” Braun said. “He’s not, like, ruminating or taking a lot of private time or ‘staying in the energy’ of Tom.”(In this way, Macfadyen would seem to be the opposite of his co-star Strong, whose intensity and extreme immersion into his characters have been extensively chronicled in The New Yorker and elsewhere. Macfadyen was loath to discuss this topic. “I think enough has been said about that,” he said.)Though “Succession” is carefully scripted, the actors are encouraged to improvise and play around with alternative dialogue. Braun and Macfadyen, who have shared some of the show’s funniest scenes, were famous on set for cracking each other up. “The guy is abusive in a way that isn’t super on the nose,” Braun said, of Tom.“They evidently just find each other amusing,” Armstrong said dryly.Macfadyen is married to the British actor Keeley Hawes, whom he met when both played spies in “MI-5.” They had a highly public affair — she had a husband and a baby at the time — but married in 2004, after her divorce, and had two more children together. Macfadyen said that everyone has become great friends and co-parents. “It was a bit bumpy at the time, but it’s fine now,” he said.“It was a really lovely bunch of actors,” Macfadyen said about his “Succession” colleagues. “It’s a weird thing, the grief when you finish a job.”Mark Sommerfeld for The New York TimesMacfadyen missed his family when he was off shooting “Succession,” and often flew home to England when he had a break in filming. But he sounded wistful about the end of the show.“It was a really lovely bunch of actors,” he said. “It’s a weird thing, the grief when you finish a job. It’s sort of awful and heartbreaking but at the same time, there’s a slight relief — a complicated mélange of feelings.”Macfadyen has worked steadily on other things between seasons. In the British series “Stonehouse,” which debuted in January, he starred as the real-life 1970s Conservative politician John Stonehouse. It was a juicy role: Stonehouse spied (badly) for Czechoslovakia, got involved in dodgy business schemes, cheated on his wife, faked his own death and turned up under a false name in Australia.Mrs. Stonehouse was played by Hawes, whose character soon gleans that her husband is not all that he seems. “It was fun to get a chance to see Keeley at work,” Macfadyen said, “especially her withering looks.”Macfadyen’s next project, with Nicole Kidman, is “Holland, Michigan,” an Amazon thriller about the secrets that lurk in a small town. He seems deeply unfussed about what comes next. Unlike Tom Wambsgans, Macfadyen is very much content with his place in the world.“The whole art of being an actor is to imagine what it’s like to be someone else with sympathy and empathy, to not make it about you,” he said. “The job is great. I like the old-fashioned thing of putting on a costume and sounding different and doing things you would never dream of doing in real life.” More

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    How ‘Succession’ Turns Getting What You Want Into Hell

    The characters in HBO’s prestige hit let us set aside judgment and just marvel at how ardently, how comically, people will chase after the worst thing for them.Two years ago, as HBO’s “Succession” finished its second season, we saw Logan Roy, the head of a right-wing media empire, looking for someone in his inner circle to serve as the scapegoat for a corporate scandal. One candidate was his hapless son-in-law, Tom Wambsgans. But Shiv, Logan’s daughter, asked him to spare her husband, and Logan’s sights turned instead to his second-born son, Kendall. For once, though, Kendall would not do the old man’s bidding: He showed up at a news conference and, instead of taking the heat, blamed his father.The pandemic kept “Succession” from continuing the story until this fall; its third season, nine episodes in all, ended Dec. 12. But it featured, midway through that run, a remarkable moment that captured the series’ great trick: Whenever these One Percenters succeed, the outcome is worse than if they had failed.Because with Kendall gone rogue, it is indeed Tom who volunteers for sacrifice and resigns himself to facing criminal charges. He assumes he has few days left as a free man, so he spends them reading prison blogs and trying to get used to cheap food. It’s only in the seventh episode that he learns the federal investigation he was afraid of will most likely end in a financial penalty. Suddenly spared years behind bars, he heads to the office of his wary sidekick Greg and destroys it in celebration: Screaming, he flips over a desk and leaps atop some filing cabinets, pounding his chest. But his ecstasy is short-lived. An episode later, Shiv — under the guise of role play — tells him she doesn’t really love him, though she would consider having the child he wanted. Having avoided prison, Tom gets to remain in a loveless union, trapped in a cage of wealth he lacks the audacity to leave. He wins, and he may well be worse off for it.Tom’s fate seems to have taken a very different turn in the season’s finale. But those earlier scenes reminded me, more than anything, of “Peep Show,” the sitcom that Jesse Armstrong, the creator of “Succession,” made in Britain between 2003 and 2015. The series, which used point-of-view shots and voice-overs to reveal its protagonists’ inner thoughts, centered on two characters: Mark, a cynical and awkward loan manager, and Jez, his perpetually out-of-work roommate. Its humor derived from many things — Mark’s repressed fury and anxious conservatism, Jez’s sexual carelessness and delusions of cool — but the writer Jim Gavin, creator of the AMC show “Lodge 49,” reported in 2016 that he had discovered the “central narrative conceit” beneath all of it. “Mark and Jez,” he wrote, “ALWAYS get what they want” — and it inevitably turns out to be terrible. “Getting what you want is a form of hell,” he wrote, “and ‘Peep Show’ is nothing if not a complete and terrifying vision of hell.”“Succession,” a prestige hit, attracts far more attention in America than “Peep Show.” Perhaps that’s why, amid obsessive discussion of each episode’s winners and losers, it’s not often noted how much this tradition continues among the Roys. Look at both shows together, and you sense a creeping, overarching worldview. Each sets its characters in looping environments where it’s rare for them to face lasting consequences. Instead, they are constantly humiliated by their own desires — and then, even more so, by the fulfillment of those desires.Throughout the early seasons of “Peep Show,” for instance, we watch Mark pine after a co-worker named Sophie, played by Olivia Colman. But when he finally succeeds in his romantic pursuit of her, it becomes clear that they have little in common — a fact that Mark, clinging to what he suspects is his sole chance to be a normal man, strains to ignore. The two become engaged based on a miscommunication, and Mark spends an entire season trudging toward a wedding he dreads, fearing it will be too embarrassing to back out. But there, again, he gets what he wants, in the worst way: After a catastrophic ceremony, Sophie flees, seeks an annulment and convinces all their co-workers that Mark is a monster.“Peep Show” was unquestionably a comedy, an unglamorous half-hour of laughs. “Succession” is an hour long, with remarkable acting and an HBO budget. As a result, critical discussion around it has often focused on form: Is this a comedy? A drama? A “sitcom trapped in the body of a drama” (as Slate had it)? “Seinfeldian in its cyclical efforts” (The New Yorker)? Has its repetitive nature made it boring? The Nation said the show has a “repetition compulsion”; The Atlantic explained its stasis by asserting that “late capitalism will always insulate the extraordinarily privileged from real consequences.”It’s true that the patterns of a sitcom, in which hardly anything ever truly changes, run the risk of disappointing prestige-TV viewers who tune in anticipating real stakes or didactic punishment for the superrich. But the circularity of such comedy is, typically, cozy. Sitcoms assure us that their worlds will remain stable, that the characters will arrive each week to behave in exactly the manner we’ve become so fond of. This was true of “Peep Show,” but in the most unsettling way possible. Mark and Jez were self-aware enough to realize how hopelessly stuck with each other they were; they knew full well that whenever either of them achieved what he wanted, the other would promptly help ruin it. As Gavin noted, “Virgil makes clear to Dante that all the souls in Hell remain there by choice,” unable to let go of the very thing that damned them in the first place. Mark and Jez will repeat their mistakes forever.It’s as if he literally can’t perish, as if hell cannot exist without the devil.What makes “Succession” a variety of sitcom is the way it, too, relishes this vision of the afterlife. The Roy children’s battle for status mostly immiserates them, yet they can’t abandon it. Each time they help save the family empire, their father lambastes or humiliates them for their trouble. Even Logan’s death scares repeat: It’s as if he literally can’t perish, as if hell cannot exist without the devil. As the show’s third season ended, we saw his children scramble once again to maintain family control of the company — to remain in the very cycle they’ve all toyed with escaping. They failed. But can there be much doubt that the situation will reset, as it has in the past, just as surely as a sitcom character’s new adventure will resolve itself in 30 minutes, leaving things right where they began? In Armstrong’s hands, character flaws are not simply quirks to be blithely repeated for our amusement. They are anchors that are constantly degrading the characters’ own lives. “Peep Show” let that degradation sit, awkwardly and hilariously, on the screen. “Succession” finds the tragedy at the heart of the sitcom form, the structure whose characters can never break free of it.The Roys’ corporation feels like their show’s Sophie. I’ve never had any trouble imagining what would happen if Kendall or his siblings wrested control of it from their father, or what they would do to address its many failings: They’d have absolutely no idea. Like Mark on “Peep Show,” they’d struggle to admit their victory was hollow from the start. This is the joy of Armstrong’s shows: They let us set aside judgment and just marvel at how ardently, how comically, people will chase after the worst thing for them. People, each season suggests, do not change that much. What we share with the Roys and two inept London flatmates might be, simply, that we only think we want them to, and would probably hate it if they ever did.Above: Screen grabs from HBO and YouTube.Alex Norcia is a writer in Los Angeles. He last wrote for the magazine about John Krasinski’s YouTube show “Some Good News.” More

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    ‘Succession’ Renewed for Season 4

    The Emmy-winning HBO drama will be back. The premiere date has yet to be announced.HBO announced Tuesday that it has officially renewed “Succession,” its cutthroat drama about a media mogul’s children who strive to become either his favorite, or his destroyer, for a fourth season.Because of the pandemic, the show, which was created by Jesse Armstrong, was on hiatus for two years before returning for its third, nine-episode season earlier this month. It won seven Emmy Awards last year, including best drama series.“Succession” tells the story of the fictional Roy family members and their jockeying for power of the world’s fifth-largest media conglomerate, Waystar Royco.Brian Cox stars as the media mogul and gruff octogenarian patriarch Logan Roy, with Jeremy Strong (Kendall), Sarah Snook (Siobhan), Kieran Culkin (Roman) and Alan Ruck (Connor) playing his four grown children. Nicholas Braun has also become a fan favorite in his breakout role as Cousin Greg.The Season 3 premiere, which aired on HBO and was available to stream on HBO Max, drew more than 1.4 million viewers across all platforms, a high for the series and the best premiere night of any HBO original series since the launch of HBO Max, according to the network. Its renewal is not surprising, but had not been announced before Tuesday.The New York Times chief television critic James Poniewozik wrote that the new season — which he called “scabrously funny” — highlights the growing gulf between the superrich and the rest of the population.“The good guys are not going to win; the good guys are not even in the game,” he added. “You can only hope to see a terrible person do something terrible to a more terrible person.”A premiere date has not yet been announced. More