Spoiler alert: this recap is for people watching Succession season two, which airs on HBO in the US and Sky Atlantic in the UK. Do not read on unless you have watched episode eight.
‘He’s made a wasteland – and called it an empire’
Rhea has shown some brazenness to insinuate herself into pole position for the CEO position at Waystar ahead of the siblings. She is also inveigling herself very publicly into the affections of Logan, putting on an event for him in his hometown of Dundee, Scotland, to mark the 50th anniversary of his life’s work. She has even arranged a surprise party. Everyone will be there. However, amid all the sycophancy of the tributes paid, he must endure some damning home truths from those close to him.
Passing a bandstand on a drive through Dundee, Logan finds himself reminiscing on the death of his mother, but his broken dialogue – “it was so complicated … I don’t know what it was … what they say, you know…” – suggests a man with barely any vestige of soul who is perturbed by the past. He would clearly rather be someplace else. Lovers of Citizen Kane might suspect he is fixating on the bandstand as a symbol of his humble origins, but the writers slap that down. “Rosebud – is a dollar bill – whatever it took to get me the fuck out of here.”
Meanwhile, Shiv is the most agitated by “traitorous viper” Rhea and attempts to drum up support from her brothers to repel her. But they are indifferent to her calls for a family truce, more amused by Shiv’s annoyance than angered at the usurper. She gets similarly short shrift when she tries to enlist Marcia, who knows full well what Shiv is up to and makes her own quiet threat to her: “When I lose, the other one will generally lose an eye or so.” Kendall does his bit by having her mention in a toast to Logan his “sister Rose”. Rose? This, evidently, does not go down well with the old man.
Rhea makes her own rounds, by suggesting to Roman that they go into partnership – but is rebuffed with a succinct “Fuck off” – then by trying to flatter Kendall. But he is too busy with Jennifer, the star in Willa’s dismal-looking new theatre show, and brushes her off too.
At Gerri’s behest, Roman makes a move of his own, seeking out Eduard in a local pub where he is engrossed in what Roman dismisses as “Scottish kickyball” on the TV. Eduard suggests they buy Hearts FC – a little present for the old man, a longtime football fan. Sadly, Roman’s ignorance of football kicks him in the ass. Logan is a lifelong fan of Hearts’ bitter rivals Hibernian. He could not have made a worse error.
Logan’s brother, Greg’s grandfather, has turned up at the banquet, a living ghost of reproach to Logan. He also has a message for Greg; leave Waystar or be cut out of the will. Ewan’s condemnation of Logan is a reminder, amid all its familial intrigue, that Waystar’s day-to-day business reflects the actual existing, media-driven horrors of this world. They are toxic on a global scale. “He’s morally bankrupt. He’s a nothing man who may be more responsible for the death of this planet than any other single human being … there’s a persuasive argument to be made that he is worse than Hitler.” Greg gulps. But when he tries to submit his resignation to Logan, he tells him his brother is a “fucking coward”.
The centrepiece of the party’s tributes is – oh, but it is – a rap by Kendall which has Roman climbing up the wall in embarrassment. It’s not the rap itself so much – as bad TV drama raps go, it’s pretty good – but the grovelling depths it plumbs. Is all of this part of some long, strategic game, or a conscious act of submission to his father by a fatally weakened son?
Marcia, too, has seemed steadfastly loyal to Logan, but tonight we realise that her recent marginalisation has galled her deeply. Logan has used his speech to announce his successor. He said nothing to her about stepping aside, she hisses, then stalks off. His brother then sidles up and refers to Rose – a “Rosebud” in reverse, it seems – to whom he feels remorseful for some action earlier in his life. “All those years blaming yourself for Rose – that wasn’t your fault. This empire of shit – this is your fault.” Damnation of an Ozymandias-in-waiting on an epic scale.
The heir apparent?
That’s obvious enough. Rhea, who Logan announces as his successor, despite confiding his misgivings about her to Shiv. And Shiv is pretty cool about it. Why? Because she has just been in a huddle with Gerri, Cyd, Frank and others in which they discuss an emerging crisis with a former Parks employee who is threatening to spill the beans about malfeasance there, is refusing any amount of hush money, probably has a backer, and is about to spill all on TV. “Any new (CEO) face is going to get ripped to shreds,” says Gerri. Shiv can live with that.
Notes and observations
Coincidentally, Logan actor Brian Cox was born in Dundee, albeit eight years later than Logan, in 1946. Given that, it’s strange that Logan should support Hibernian, when he had not one but two local teams to choose from – Dundee and Dundee United.
Connor’s presidential bid seems to have run temporarily out of steam. This week, he is reduced to trying to tap his Dad for funds for Willa’s moneypit of a theatre production. Would that Donald Trump had had his level of tenacity in the climb for high office.
Roman may have screwed up monumentally in his club purchase, a move that would provoke gales of laughter in the football media, but as a font of acid dialogue he is unmatched. This week’s choice lines include “slicker than cum on a dolphin’s back” and, in a fresh proposal to Gerri: “You eat me, I eat you, like I do in Germany.” Lines like this are all but the raison d’etre of this show.
