Succession’s Unseen Storytelling

On the surface, Succession is a lukewarm dark comedy and occasional satire that looks into the vile lives of mega-rich adult children fighting over daddy’s CEO title. Topped off with difficult business jargon, near unbearable characters, and a plot that feels like it’s unfolding at a glacial pace, this show does not sound like it would land with audiences emotionally on paper. With Season 4 recently beginning filming, let’s hope the show keeps itself quiet and doesn’t change a thing.

While trudging my way through the show for no other reason than to stay in the loop, I suddenly realized that the elements of the show that I thought were missing are the entire point. 

Once the stylistic elements and subtle character studies are added to the mix, the show somehow becomes a high-speed spectacle about corporate corruption, depressing realities of media power, and the impact of abuse and power dynamics that loom over a family. 

Intentional barriers allow a space for each viewer to insert their own personal outlook into the narrative, creating a subjectively realistic piece of work that can feel real and engaging to anyone.

Logan Roy, founder and CEO of a billion dollar multimedia conglomerate, is a man who has succeeded at creating a world that believes what he says is true. Although, he failed at providing love or any lessons of emotional value, other than spite, to his children. Connor, Kendall, Siobhan, and Roman Roy revolve around Logan, the source of their success as well as their trauma, and have no choice but to play his game. 

Born into the class that holds societal and political power and influence in their hands, they ironically have very little control over their own lives or relationships. As the characters grasp onto whatever power they can find over anything or anyone, the show dives into the corruptive nature of wealth and influence. 

The show moves like a documentary, a genre of filmmaking centered around portraying reality, the characters’ unawareness of the camera being the only major difference. This style is unconventional in the way that it does not allow for the characters or the story to make room for the camera, inviting more intimate and organic moments. 

Instead of attempting to hide the camera, Succession’s makes itself known. Though it may flow freely through the scenes to pick up strategically “natural” shots, it also acts and reacts as though it’s a pair of eyes. As if it’s observing and judging the scene, the shots are typically off-center, unusual, and even disorienting at times. 

This style refuses the immersive impact that the show can have and acts as a barrier between the audience and the story, as if we are granted permission to view the inside of this exclusive world. We might as well feel privileged to see these elite members of society behind closed doors. It provides the feeling of being an outsider catching a glimpse of the world that normal people are not supposed to see, and it is just as caught off guard as the rest of us. 

The camera is the audience loudly reacting, quietly observing, and never addressed. Each small physical or spoken moment captured may never be brought up again or will serve as major plot points as the plot moves forward. It’s impossible to predict or fully understand in the moment, just as in real life. 

As the characters are trapped together in this cycle of power and abuse, wide shots focus on them as a dysfunctional unit rather than individuals. It also allows for the inclusion of background characters, which can place us back into reality as we are reminded of the everyday people that experience the spread of the Roy family’s actions, serving as a reminder that these absurdly real people are actively impacting our society with every move. 

Aside from scraps gathered from a few lines of quippy dialogue, we barely know anything personal about these characters aside from what we’ve seen play out in the show. 

Instead, each character presently serves as a reflection of their histories. As we’re thrown into this world we are left to interpret the characters based on the established family and business dynamic.

As it’s accompanied by a classical piano over an intense hip-hop beat, the show has the right to claim one of the best opening title sequences of all time. Shots of the wealthy world of corporate America and NYC contrast eerie home movies of the Roy children’s upbringing. Aside from this intro, the show stays in real time, featuring no other flashbacks or narration. 

The way they speak and act in the present give huge insight into their past, and can help viewers further understand their current decisions without being explicitly told. This subtle storytelling also helps to fix attention on the transactional nature of these relationships, hiding motives behind the facade of corporate personalities. 

Rarely are these hidden motives directly addressed or even revealed to the audience, almost as if the characters themselves don’t fully know their intentions, but it is a defining trait of the entire group. The cycle of fighting for control never stops, and the way these dynamics are established naturally is a big component that contributes to the realistic feeling. 

With fun and quirky characters like Tom and Greg, who are typically considered outcasts in the family, we are able to get extremely close to being able to identify with something and insert ourselves into the narrative. We are able to feel the slightest bit of sympathy as they are involved in one of many chains of abuse that spawned from the Roy family. Logan hurts Shiv who hurts Tom who hurts Greg who ultimately hurts himself by using his unassuming presence for personal and corporate gain, but the two still feel the most human. But then we are reminded that they are conservative-media executives that have the power to hand pick the next POTUS and we go running and screaming in the other direction. 

In truth, the politics of the show clearly do not matter in this small world of mega media giants, and they often overlap. It’s about who gets to be at the top, not who gets to make change. 

These characters with extremely unrelatable lifestyles dealing with incomprehensible stakes have become some of the most realistic people on television, ironically due to their lack of humanity. Being born into extreme wealth and essentially waiting your whole life, alongside your siblings, to see who your father picks to “play god” next is something that very few television viewers can relate to. The audience is able to connect with the emotion behind it because of the introspective way it’s presented to us. 

The only way we are able to make assumptions is by using the space provided by the barriers in order to project our emotions into the unspoken elements. These leave a space for audiences to insert their own emotions and interpret their own meaning, which is as real as it can get.