SUCCESSION ON THE CATHARSIS YOU DON'T SEE COMING

Last night on SUCCESSION, "Kill List" written by Jon Brown & Ted Cohen, we got our first real glimpse of Roman and Kendall working together. And on the surface what we're shown is the challenge of having two heads rather than one (or three heads, as it goes on). Where Madsen is able to shoot from the hip and move on the fly, Rome and Ken are backfooted at the first meeting by the fact that they clearly have such different reactions to the offer. 

And by starting there, the Brown & Cohen con us into thinking that the issue of the episode is getting them on the same page, seeing whether they can "pull off" the deal. It's an easy groove for us to fall in, as getting the kids on the same page is always the problem with the Roys. And so is Kendall self-destructing.

But this episode is not about that. It's about not holding back. And even though Kendall is the main player at the table, in the end this is really Roman's episode, not Kendall's. He's the one that has the most trouble with the new offer. And then in the second scene, he's the one that still says nothing. Kendall is actually firing on all cylinders. Roman mostly nods.

That scene ends with Madsen saying, "Well I don't care what you think," he says to Kendall's critique of his analysis of Waystar. "You're a tribute band." It's a brilliant SUCCESSION-worthy line. The dialogue on the show is so often about reducing complicated things to witty, devastating (accurate) metaphors. 

But what I love about that line is that it brings the conversation back to Logan. Which is where Roman's head is anyway. He's the one dealing with Connor's craziness about the body. He's the one that just cannot hear anyone saying his father is a bad guy or his plan should be tossed out. But having said that, Brown & Cohen give us nothing to suggest he's going to cut loose. That's not how this world works, actually. For as entertaining and nasty as the banter of  SUCCESSION is, it's also highly constraining. You do not pour your heart out here.  (And this is especially true of Roman. He is 100% "fuck off" and quips.)

And that's what makes Roman's monologue to Madsen on the mountain so incredibly thrilling. Certainly the other conversations with Madsen have been building to this, though again, by putting Kendall front and center they've distracted us from Roman. But it's not just that; in a sense by so often withholding a more open conversation, they've sort of starved us. And so when Roman comes in with "I fucking hate you," even though it makes him sound like a teenager talking to his dad, we absolutely relish it. 

There's a bunch of possible lessons to take from this. One is obviously how important it is to create early distractions in an episode, so the audience doesn't see your end gambit coming. 

But another is, when you're working on the last season of a show, it's worth asking, what have we been withholding from the audience? What are the things we haven't let them have? And if we can find a way to give that to them, Wow will they eat it up.

SUCCESSION ON HOW TO CRAFT A SURPRISE

This is going to seem like a really obvious observation, but it's something I've been thinking about a lot in terms of not events but character choices. If you really want to surprise people, don't telegraph that it's coming. 

I did say it seemed really obvious. But I think it's worth mentioning from a broader perspective. There's so often when I'm working on a script or a character where I think to myself, I need to set up that later reveal, event or character choice early, so that when we get there I've established a runway for it. I don't want the audience to feel like I've cheated. 

And there's truth to that. If Miranda Bailey starts murdering people on GREY'S ANATOMY—well, first of all I would be here for that, because I would follow Chandra Wilson doing anything. But I might very well say, Um, not sure that really tracks? 

In the case of SUCCESSION, we've had plenty of set up over the last three seasons that Logan is not well. But probably they could have sold it anyway because he's just old. He comes with his own ticking clock built in. 

But as I think of some the best character work I've seen, oftentimes it involves a certain refusal to signpost or pre-justify. I see it especially with great villains—instead of seeming good while secretly twirling their mustaches, we have the character play altogether good, and then in other moments simply be evil. Basically, they leave it up to us to put those pieces together. 

Admittedly, this can go wrong. Te boy next door who turns out to be a creepy voyeur/serial killer is actually pretty tired at this point, not only because it's been done but because it can feel untrue. There has to be some deeper truth that justifies the surprise. 

But the key truth is this: Story Gaps are great for audiences. It gives them a way to participate. It gives them something to sink their teeth into. 

In the case of SUCCESSION Logan's own behavior is a great example of this. We never know what's going on in his head. All we have is the things he says and does, which in his case are so far from the fullness of what he's up to. And that gap not only keeps the kids spinning, it keeps us engaged. 

But the choice to have him die without warning is kind of a version of this as well. Telegraphing and signposting are sometimes great, essential. But sometimes it's the gaps that we create between our signposts and story choices that create great story.

 

SUCCESSION ON BEING TRUE TO WHO YOU ARE AS A SERIES

This week I'm going to write a lot about the latest episode of SUCCESSION. If you're not caught up and like the show, you should definitely not read this until you do. (In fact you might try implementing a media cone of silence, because yowza.)

So, here we go... Spoilers Ahoy. 

SUCCESSION 403 is The One Where Logan Dies. Which is um, definitely unexpected. The episode actually begins with Logan doing normal screwed up Logan stuff—asking Roman to do his dirty work; ditching Connor's wedding. Bad Dad Head Fuckery 101, basically. 

And then we get the phone call from Tom on the plane, which leads into this incredible, 28 minute sequence in which first Roman and and Kendall, then Shiv, and finally Connor are all forced to confront the fact that their father is dying...isn't breathing...is dead. 

And creator/writer Jesse Armstrong makes this really unexpected choice to not let us see Logan at all for a good portion of the sequence. We hear from Tom, we see stuff going on in the background, others also chime in, but there's no "Cut To: A stewardness doing chest compressions on Logan."

Objectively, that's super strange. That's not how you do these things on TV. A big part of the drama, in fact, is watching someone try to save the person's life. It's the will they make it or won't they. 

But here's what that choice does: it puts us in the same situation as the kids—but not just in terms of this moment, but in the broader context of the show. Logan Roy is the monster in the closet that you can never fucking kill. He is the shark that disappears only so that it can show up behind you and rip your fucking throat out. You are never fucking safe with him. A conflict with him is never over. 

Given that, of course they don't want to show us him falling ill, or dying, or dead, until the end (and even then they don't show us his face; I wouldn't be surprised if Brian Cox wasn't used at all). It's a way of leaving it open whether this is really happening, whether this isn't some next level mind fuck ruse of the all time mind fuck master. 

There are a hundred ways that Jesse Armstrong could have killed Logan Roy. And I think a lot of the press around this version is going to be about how it captures the death of a loved one, especially a parent, in such a real way. But as writers, let's not be fooled by that. SUCCESSION is not an after school series. This isn't a very special episode.

This is a series about three kids (sorry Connor—we'll get to you) who are constantly unsure where they stand with their father and desperate for it not to be like that but also completely incapable of overcoming him or themselves to get to that point. They live with constant instability and uncertainty.

And that's what's drives Armstrong's choice about how to show his death. The bigger concept drives the specific story decision. 

It's such a great model for us as writers. Whether we're doing a death, a dinner party, a high school dance, the point is absolutely the same. The concept of the show should inform our thinking to make our choices specific. 

To put it in terms of a question: What is the "Our Show" version of a death? A dinner party? A high school dance?