It’s hard for visual mediums like film and TV to portray certain subjects without honoring them. “Some films claim to be anti-war,” noted director François Truffaut in 1973 interview, “but I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen an anti-war movie.” Because violence on screen is inherently aesthetic, no matter how gory the image, “[e]very war movies ended up being pro-war. ”
The unequivocal quality that Truffaut finds in war movies also applies to depictions of great wealth. No matter how evil or unhappy the rich appear, it’s hard not to admire their luxurious possessions and beautiful surroundings. During the last decade of the Cold War, the Communist government in Romania decided broadcast permission belong to Dallas, believes that its depiction of capitalist corruption will remind viewers of the benefits of socialism. The effect was, of course, the opposite: For many Romans as well as Americans, seeing Ewings was the desire to become Ewings.
HBO TV series Heir, which ended its third season on Sunday, has struggled to avoid unintentional glorification. The writers have inflicted typical sufferings – jealousy, boredom, addiction – on its billionaire characters. But the show’s cinematographers, costumes, and set designers have also created a strangely unappealing physical environment. Except for the rental palaces, where new money poured into the ruins of the European aristocracy, the rooms were ruined, the landscape barren, the light was dazzling. Even the clothes, although obviously expensive, are mostly not suitable and not flamboyant.
However, like the anti-war film that Truffaut criticized, these technical devices did not work as expected. There’s no way to show extremely powerful people asserting their will without sparking jealousy in the audience. Earlier this season, patriarch Logan Roy (Brian Cox), loosely modeled on Rupert Murdoch, effectively demonstrated the selection of the Republican candidate for president. It doesn’t matter that Roy chooses a fascist toad who will increase his rating. You can’t see that power if you don’t want it – which is why Logan is able to join Michael Corleone, Tony Montana, and Walter White as hypothetical anti-heroes who are supposed to be heroes.
That’s why the show should stop after last night’s finale. Without spoiling the intricate and ultimately irrelevant details of the plot, Logan reveals the monster he has always been. Not just because he despises his staff, his viewers, and his country. He despises his children so much that he would rather sell the business to a tech mogul than let them take over.
Title Heir evokes hereditary aristocracy vying for the right to the throne – as does the surname Roy, derived from the Old French word for “king”. The last part makes that comparison clear when Cousin Greg (Nicholas Braun) unexpectedly flirts with a young woman who like eight lives has been removed from the claim to the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. An updated version of Henry James’s innocent Americans abroad, Greg doesn’t realize he’s almost in the same position, except that Logan’s location is what really matters. Just as the amalgamation of old media and new tech companies put an end to Logan’s hopes of displacing the children, Greg and contessa are ready to make an equal.
However, there is one important difference between the Roys and their aristocratic predecessors: That is, their basic indifference to honor, beauty, or legitimacy. The principle of hereditary inheritance holds that power should be limited to one family, which may eventually grow to be worthy of it. Although it has been reported that Logan is trying to father another child, this time with his personal assistant, the truth is that he is not really interested in founding a dynasty (not coincidentally). the title of another aspirational opera, of course). Informing his bewildered children that control of the company would be transferred to the family, Logan gave a triumphant explanation: “I f – king win.”
It’s a fitting epitaph for the series itself. There’s no inheritance because there can’t be – Logan is irreplaceable with his appetite, ego, and rage. That’s close to the moral critique that wealth television can provide.
https://theweek.com/tv/1008026/the-succession-finale-was-brilliant-time-to-end-the-series The final night of Succession was extremely brilliant. It’s time to end the series.