Tom and Shiv got married, Kendall fell to unimaginable depths (figuratively speaking, of course, though we can’t say that about every character), and Cousin Greg Cousin Greg’ed. With the excellent first season of HBO’s Succession now finished, The Ringer staff gathered in a boardroom to deliver their thoughts on the finale, “Nobody Is Ever Missing,” on the season at large, and on what they’d do as the CEO of Waystar Royco. 1. What is your tweet-length review of “Nobody Is Ever Missing”? Jason Gallagher: There is no more doubt afoot: This is the best show of 2018. Ben Lindbergh: More unmissable than a Connor Roy stump speech. Katie Baker: Even when he’s lashing out at clumsy cater-waiters, Logan Roy is never not playing the long game. Shaker Samman: Somebody should’ve gone to the emergency room, somebody probably should be going to jail. Paolo Uggetti: A testament to the greatness of this show is that it makes you root for a murderer as much it makes you root for some of the richest, most selfish people in the world. Justin Charity: Succession is a show about how all families, above a certain tax bracket, are criminal conspiracies. Miles Surrey: Succession is my no. 1 boy, now and forever. 2. What was the best moment of the episode? Samman: When Tom, benefited by some post-marital coitus and the confidence that only a Billy Joel song can inspire, tells Nate to beat it, but not before pouring the wine from his goblet back into a bottle. Because, you know, the wine was his mom and dad’s contribution. Baker: It’s a testament to this show that I’ve spent a good 10 minutes trying to pick one, but: everything related to Roman Roy’s rocket—particularly his post-FUBAR face in the bathroom mirror—brought me so much joy, and sooooo much appreciation for the continued existence of my thumbs. Lindbergh: Tom telling Nate to stop drinking the Wamsgans wine (and, implicitly, to stop sleeping with the Wamsgans wife). The marriage may not be the bond that Tom wanted—fittingly, the episode skipped the vows and the rest of the ceremony itself—but he had his moment. Charity: The moment when Kendall sulks through the castle, up the long stairways, to deliver the bear hug letter to his father. Kendall is a childish and petulant character, and Logan routinely debases him, but Kendall’s long walk to Logan’s room underscores the son’s arrogance, and his immaturity, and his anxiety, all through his body language alone. He walks like a kid delivering a report card riddled with C-minuses to his parents. Uggetti: Cousin Greg and Kendall’s interaction. “You little Machiavellian fuck; I like it” is iconic, but the moment was also a unique encapsulation of Kendall’s arc this season. You get the sense that Kendall was thrown off, jealous of Greg’s bravado, knowing deep down that he’d kill to have an ounce of that kind of self-assured confidence and go-getter mentality. In Cousin Greg, that attitude is a mix of naivete and youthful ambition; in Kendall, it’s a sad blend of hollow pretension and an inferiority complex that follows him everywhere. Surrey: Tom confronting Nate, threatening to hire people to break his legs, and kicking him out of the reception. I know Succession deals with an ensemble of sociopaths, but there was something about Nate’s smugness that was just … the most aggravating. But then Tom forced him to pour the wine back into the bottle! And then Tom and Cousin Greg exchanged a nod! And this all happened while “Uptown Girl” was playing! Gallagher: The last scene with Logan and Kendall was perfect. After the first episode, I was a huge skeptic—massive skeptic. I thought the show took itself way too seriously. As the season went along, it slowly started to break me down with some of the most memorable characters, moments, and dialogue I’d encountered in years. Then in the final scene of the finale, the show hugged me close, called me its “No. 1 Boy” and forced me to take it seriously in a way that felt real and earned. We are now reconciled. 3. What was your least favorite part? Baker: Not to be rude to the dearly departed local boy, but I was actually hurt even more by Tom’s fragile-yet-proud psyche on display during Shiv’s “so, uh, by the way ...” boudoir speech. Shiv, how could you do this to a man who offered to go by Tom Roy? Uggetti: The non-Logan wedding speeches. I don’t think I needed to cringe at the public awkwardness of Shiv and Tom’s ill-fitting relationship anymore. Samman: The Tom-Shiv argument after their nuptials. Listen, I get it. Tom is (mostly) spineless when it comes to Shiv, and he’s hopelessly, madly in love with her. But not only did she tell him she was unfaithful, but that she would continue to stray. Tom, buddy, get mad. You took it out on Nate, which is cool, but you needed permission from your adulterer wife to do that. Tell her off. You deserve it. And then get some ortolan to celebrate. Lindbergh: Probably the literal failure to launch. It’s completely in character for a Roman venture to explode spectacularly, but I’m used to Succession treating failure with more nuance and subtlety. Although the satellite subplot seemed somewhat rushed, the blow-up was worth it for Gerri’s reaction. Surrey: It’s an exceptional scene, but seeing Kendall completely broken and left a pathetic, sobbing mess—after spending most of the season trying to usurp his father—was really difficult to stomach. Gallagher: When the credits rolled on my third rewatch. 4. Who was the MVP of Succession Season 1? Samman: Jeremy Strong. Tom and Cousin Greg make a great comedic duo, Logan is a terrifying monster, and Shiv and Roman have their own fun moments, but Strong’s performance all summer—and especially in the season finale—added a depth to Kendall that isn’t apparent in any other Roy or Roy-adjacent character. Get this man an Emmy. Uggetti: Logan Roy. You come at the king—the flawed, arrogant, insensitive, and pedantic king—you best not miss once, twice, and especially not thrice. Lindbergh: From an entertainment perspective, it’s almost impossible to pick one actor or character, which is why Succession works. But for playing the primary plot mover, for managing to make doing drugs look a lot less fun than it’s typically portrayed on TV, and (as revealed in the “after the episode”) for going full method in the finale by demanding to be doused in ice water after his swimming scene, I’ll give it to Jeremy Strong. Kendall could really use a win right now. Charity: Roman Roy—functionally, I think he’s crucial to the show feeling sharper, faster, and more charismatic after the first couple of episodes. He forces the rest of the family to loosen up, which becomes crucial to their otherwise thin appeal as obscenely wealthy people. Surrey: Best character: Cousin Greg, my wholesome California Pizza Kitchen king. Best actor: Jeremy Strong, who delivered the best performance on TV since Carrie Coon in The Leftovers, which is about as close I’ll get to calling someone God. Baker: I’ve already pledged my sword to House Gerri, but pound for pound, every Stewie line was the best line on the show, including and especially his insistence that Kendall deliver the bear hug letter. Gallagher: It is a true testament to the show that it has so many compelling candidates for MVP. These characters left me speechless with breathtaking performances backed by rich stories … I’ll go with Tom. He swallowed his own load. 5. Who comes out of the season on top? Who’s in the worst shape? Charity: Shiv—she’s the only Roy who isn’t either worse off or else back at square one. Lindbergh: Cousin Greg may be the only character who’s improved his position since he puked in the premiere. He wins the season. Kendall loses, for going from heir apparent to barely being in better shape than the waiter he kind of killed. Samman: Logan has to be the season’s champ, right? He beat a brain hemorrhage, kept control of his company after not one, but two attempted coups, and managed to press his boot even harder down on the throats of any and all who dared cross him, including his son Kendall, who takes the “worst shape” crown. Tough look, plunging a kid who was just about to clock out for the night to his death. Tougher look, knowing you have to swallow that guilt, and capitulate to your greatest foe—likely for the rest of your life—in order to avoid consequences. Baker: Greg the Mothafuckin Egg, that Machiavellian fuck, definitely has the most momentum. As for who is in the worst shape, I’ve decided to throw my full support and conviction behind this tantalizing Twitter theory I came across last night: Logan's security people are going to set up Nate - who was ejected from the wedding right before the fatal car crash - as the driver of the dead waiter's car in order to get Kendall off the hook and embarrass Senator Eavis. #Succession — The Real MurphyBruno (@MurphyBruno) August 6, 2018 Uggetti: On top: Marcia. While Logan thwarted the plethora of attacks at the throne, Marcia stood to the side essentially bulletproof, and got through a whole season without revealing a single one of her cards. Worst shape: Tom Wamsgams. He married into the Roys, which means he both loses (not literally, but figuratively) his illustrious last name and any semblance of power. Gallagher: Logan Roy had a walk-off to end the series, so he’s feeling pretty good, but I’m going with Marcia as the big winner. There’s no getting out of this for Kendall. Ever. If he was only indebted to Logan, that’d be fine; he would’ve just needed to outlive the old man. But Marcia and her son were in that room for a reason. They know and they will always know what Kendall did. Kendall’s debt went from lasting a decade (tops) to the rest of his life and that’s thanks to Marcia’s ability to earn Logan’s privilege and trust—ensuring herself (and her son) a seat at the table forever. And Stewie probably took the biggest L heading into Season 2, although the kid who died at the bottom of the lake is arguably in worse shape. Surrey: Has anyone fallen upward better than Roman? Dude blows up a rocket and is celebrating like it’s Mardi Gras because there were only a couple of lost thumbs and an arm in the explosion. Who’s in the worst shape? Other than Kendall, it’s probably Stewie and Sandy, whose takeover was a failure for reasons they won’t be privy to. 6. So … Kendall is not only addicted to cocaine, but fled the scene of a crime and is now beholden to Logan. How does he bounce back in Season 2? Can he bounce back? Did you want to give him a hug? Samman: Is there a way he can bounce back? He’s responsible for the death of an adolescent whose only crime appeared to be getting a little too high after spilling wine on a billionaire (waiter kid ... welcome to the resistance). Kendall needs a few hugs, a long look in the mirror, a trip to a rehabilitation program, and maybe a pair of handcuffs. Surrey: I’m sure that Succession will eventually find a way to bring Kendall back to his glorious, Lanvin sneaker–wearing, tech-bro ways, but not before he suffers a bit longer under his father’s thumb. When you’ve hit rock bottom—and I can’t imagine Kendall stooping any lower than this—the only way is up. Charity: If Succession were as smart as I’d wish it to be, each season would posit a different Roy as the season’s dominant pretender. Personally, Kendall is ruined. Pass the mic to Siobhan. Gallagher: Kendall will never win again. In fact, he’ll have to redefine his definition of winning to feel any sort of accomplishment at this point. If he can learn to embrace the agenda of Logan and Marcia, he’ll be good. And hell yeah I wanted to see the hug. Are you kidding? Raise your hand if you didn’t want to see LeBron dunk on Jason Terry that one time. You saw it coming. It looked brutal.<doc-sep>This post contains spoilers for the Succession Season 1 finale. Well, that wedding went an unexpected direction. Succession creator Jesse Armstrong told Vanity Fair that, to prepare for scripting the nuptials between Shiv (Sarah Snook) and Tom (Matthew Macfadyen), he and his writing team scoured reports from real-life society weddings. Hence the lavish setting (the family’s ancestral seat: a stately castle in the English countryside), snobbery, deliciously passive-aggressive insults, and gilded place settings. But for the final-act plot twist that derails Kendall (Jeremy Strong) from taking over his father’s business, Armstrong and his team found inspiration in a haunting tragedy that halted a real-life family’s dynastic progression. “The finale has a bit of Chappaquiddick in it,” Armstrong said in an interview with Vanity Fair, referencing Ted Kennedy’s 1969 car accident, which resulted in the death of his passenger, Mary Jo Kopechne, and the end of his presidential aspirations. Succession’s Season 1 finale, “Nobody Is Ever Missing,” kicks off with Kendall finally outfoxing father Logan (Brian Cox)—by presenting him with a “bear hug” takeover notice on the morning of Shiv’s wedding. (A “bear hug” is “one part Emily Post and two parts Machiavelli,” explained Andrew Ross Sorkin for the The New York Times, “before mounting a hostile bid and going in for the kill, suitors send a bear hug—named for a popular wrestling maneuver—to their targets.”) Though his father demeans him to his face, the unflappable king actually expresses begrudging respect for the maneuver in private. Later, Logan gives a father-of-the-bride speech that is less celebratory toast than guilt-trip missile directed at Kendall. And Kendall, unable to contain his inner conflict, asks a cater-waiter to help him blow off some steam by tracking down cocaine. Kendall has to drive because the cater-waiter is high on ketamine. “I don’t drive that much because I’m incredibly rich, and I mostly get driven everywhere,” Kendall explains as he grinds the stick shift, his passenger drunkenly guffawing at the absurdity of the statement. Cut to: a deer in the road; the car careening off a bridge and into water; and Kendall saving himself but not the cater-waiter. Rather than call for help, Kendall, in shock, walks through the rain back to the wedding reception; cleans himself up; and returns to the party—alibis don’t write themselves—in time to boogie down to the most chilling Whitney Houston music cue of all time. The next morning, Logan is summoned to his father’s den. His security detail found Kendall’s key card near the crime scene, and saw him schlepping back to the estate the previous evening in soaked clothing. “Let me handle this,” Logan says, suggesting his flock of fixers can pin this on a local in exchange for Kendall calling off the takeover. “This has been quite stressful. Why don’t you get in my car, we’ll drive you to the plane, and then you can relax.” When Kendall shakily resists, his father coolly interjects: “This could be the defining moment of your life . . . a rich kid kills a boy. You’d never be anything else. Or it could be what it should be: nothing at all. A sad little detail at a lovely wedding, where father and son are reconciled.” Kendall erupts into sobs, and Logan hugs him, giving him the affection he’s spent decades searching for: “You’re my boy. You’re my No. `1 boy.” For Ted Kennedy, whose father Joe was as ambitious and fearsome as Logan Roy, the 1969 accident was indeed the scion’s defining moment. “Either you forgave Kennedy for Chappaquiddick or you didn’t,” wrote Andrew Cohen in Ted’s 2009 obituary for Vanity Fair. “If you forgave him, then you saw the rest of his life as his noble and dogged and astonishingly productive way of paying for his sins that night. If you did not forgive him for the death of Mary Jo Kopechne, then you saw the rest of his life as a travesty upon justice, a sign that the rich and famous rarely pay for their mistakes the way the rest of us do.”<doc-sep>
Not all prestige HBO dramas are created equal. For every Sopranos, there's gonna be a Vinyl. But the network's best new show, Succession, certainly ended its first season with a bang on Sunday night. Kendall Roy (played by Jeremy Strong) was finally on the verge of seizing his media mogul father's company with a hostile takeover that he announces at his sister Shiv's wedding. But after family patriarch Logan Roy (played by Brian Cox) gives a wedding speech that passive-aggressively skewers his son, Kendall drives off with a waiter to score some cocaine, swerves to avoid a deer and plunges into a lake, Chappaquiddick-style. The young waiter drowns and Kendall, soaking wet, slinks back to the English castle where the opulent wedding is taking place, cleans himself up and eerily hits the dance floor to a Whitney Houston song. ADVERTISEMENT Thanks for watching! Visit Website ADVERTISEMENT Thanks for watching! Visit Website ADVERTISEMENT Thanks for watching! Visit Website The next morning, Logan finds out about the waiter's death (his security detail finds Kendall's room key card with the body ) and offers to clean up the whole mess if his son drops his hostile takeover plan. Cue the surprise father-son reconciliation: a weeping Kendall collapses into his dad's arms, and Logan tells him "You're my boy. You're my number one boy." Which allows the whole show to reset for Season 2 that will air next year. Thrillist caught up with Succession creator Jesse Armstrong about the Season 1 finale what's in store for Season 2: Kendall has seemed like the show's conscience, but you then orchestrated his massive fall in this last episode. How did you plan that out? Jesse Armstrong: You can plan [it like], We need something big at the end of the season or We know we need an episode here which is kind of explosive. You have that slightly symphonic sense of what the rhythms of a show should be, and usually a season needs a kind of bang at the end. But we didn't decide we need a bang and then think of 20 different bangs and then choose one. I think I always pitched from quite early in the room that this would happen to Kendall -- that he would be involved in an accident and he was culpable in some way. Although, arguable how unusual his reaction is. You might think it's a cowardly but very human reaction, or you might think it's desperately awful what he does. I think you could think about it either way. It just felt right for the end. I mean, not that I wasn't with a certain anxiety that it might seem kind of soapy or overblown. But it had the ring of you think your life's going one way, and then you just get totally fucking sideswiped by something else. As long as we could keep that vibe to it, it always felt like it had the feeling of real life about it. .Armstrong also hinted that the newly-reconciled father and son might stay together in the treacherous show's second season, at least for a while: Will there be another power struggle next season, or will you lay off that as you explore the idea of Logan having all this power again without anyone to stop him? Armstrong: I guess the only thing that's maybe interesting or useful to say is things have got to change. The forced reconciliation that happens at the end of the season... feels very natural. That's sort of what Kendall wants to do. I don't have all the answers for how we go forward from there but we have a bunch of them. One thing I know that's real is that hug, and that desire to give in to power, to accept what feels inevitable. We're not going to turn around and say that was just a joke, there's a knife in his hand [and] he's going to stab his dad in the back right away. We're not going to do that. How we manage the drama, given that that pivot is going to change, we don't have every answer to, but we're committed to this quite exciting new world where maybe Kendall and Logan become something of a unit for a while. What did you think of the Season 1 finale?