"Succession": Final Thoughts

"Succession" pointed the way toward its own conclusion; it has been pointing for a few seasons.

The show seemed to suggest that Roman was headed toward some kind of death; we saw him throwing himself in front of an angry crowd, and we saw him amping up his nihilistic language ("Dad, you're a monster," "nothing matters," "forcing the election of a fascist is just an act of producing good TV"). Roman didn't literally die, but his final scripted moments--"we're bullshit, we're clowns"--seemed like a kind of *spiritual* self-annihilation.

The relentless backstabbing between Shiv and Kendall ("you're dirt," "you're unwell") seemed to be building toward a final betrayal. The actual betrayal was a delight; it led to one of the best lines this season ("I love you, but I can't stomach you"). Also, this scene had the most startling moment in a long while, I think; it's the moment when Kendall tries to pretend his story about the dead waiter was just a work of fiction. This is clearly a reference to Logan's own monstrousness; Logan famously said that a cater-waiter is essentially a "non-person."

I felt strongly that Jesse Armstrong would not answer the surface-level "who will win Waystar" question, or that he wouldn't dwell on the answer (because the question didn't matter all that much). We do get an answer of sorts: Tom gets the power. However, we're told that Tom will simply be a mouthpiece--and, in fact, it isn't clear how decisions will occur. Maybe Tom will make a few? Maybe Lukas will be dictatorial? Maybe both Tom and Lukas will bow to Shiv? I don't really care, and I suspect that Jesse Armstrong doesn't really care.

I do have a nagging feeling that something was left unfinished. I think that great fiction can show people changing over time. They don't need to change *for the better*--but a little change is an interesting feature. This is what an artist can illuminate: How does Momma Rose go from tyrant to weakling? How does Lady Macbeth gain and then lose everything (including her own life)? By contrast, Kendall's loss seems so very, very small. It's a bit of a letdown.

Although "Breaking Bad" ran out of steam in its last hour, it did have the courage, over several seasons, to show a loving family in real decline. It's a long way from the birth of Holly to the knife fight in "Ozymandias." I think "Breaking Bad" is my gold standard for TV writing.

All that said, I had so much fun with the Roy family, and I'll "miss" these actors (even if they have success in other roles).

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...

Liars and Saints

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