"Succession" Series-Finale Recap: Enjoy Your Bauble!
Boardrooms, Bahamas, and Billionaire Baubles abound in "With Open Eyes," the "Succession" series finale.
“If I don’t get to do this, I feel like I might die.” – Kendall Roy
“We are bullshit! It’s all fucking nothing, man.” – Roman Roy
Prestige TV finales carry with them the expectation of surprise. Don Draper having his moment of Coca-Cola enlightenment, Walter White returning from exile with a Go-Go-Gadget machine gun, that notorious cut-to-black shot of Tony Soprano—moments like these, grand in conception and masterful in execution, have come to define our TV drama landscape, and have left us with a grand sense of expectation when it comes time to an end a much-loved series. “Sticking the landing” is a phrase that gets tossed around a lot for these kinds of shows, referring to a sort of conclusion that at once fits with our understading of the show’s characters, yet also makes wild, unexpected swings. It’s a strange bar to set, and has in the meantime come to create some of the best, and indeed worst, TV endings we’ve ever seen.
“With Open Eyes” does not play by these rules. There is no moment of transcendent inspiration, no last-second murder, no sudden cut to black. There is instead everything you’d expect from a normal episode of Succession: business deals, family drama, billionaire brats failing to recognize their tragic flaws. Everything about it feels inevitable—predictable, even. The show’s characters arrive naturally at their final destinations, finding logical endpoints for their four-season long arcs. And none of this inevitability—a sense of what on Succession terms one might almost call normalcy—does not come across as restrained, but sublime. There is something astounding in Jesse Armstrong’s deliberate avoidance of the spine-tingling zags we’ve come to expect from similar dramas, a feeling of a show so committed to itself and its own terms that nothing, not even Logan Roy, could get in its way.
The episode begins, as almost all episodes of Succession do, with the siblings locked in heated combat. The board meeting to decide the GoJo sale is coming up, and Kendall is in a bad way, lacking the votes to stop it. Shiv, meanwhile, is thriving. She knows that her position as Waystar’s American CEO is set, and is fast-talking through Matsson’s team with blustering confidence. She finds herself turning back to her marriage amid all this newfound Swedish spirit, calling up Tom in a last-ditch effort to salvage a power-couple marriage of convenience. He sees right through her, and when Shiv asks him if he might want to give their relationship another go, he gives the only answer he can: he doesn’t know. (It’s the right response. With Matsson, Shiv openly throws Tom under the bus, calling him a “highly interchangeable modular part” and saying—rightly—that he “will honestly suck the biggest dick in the room.”)
The biggest question for the GoJo sale lies with Roman, who has shacked up with mummy in the Bahamas after his election night injuries. Kendall and Shiv depart from New York the moment they find out where he is, briefly turning “With Open Eyes” into another Succession season-finale on vacation. Lady Caroline’s bungalow is a wonderful setting: a neocolonial homestead perfectly suited to Roy family sparring. It echoes season one’s English castle, season two’s yacht on the Mediterranean, and season three’s Italian wedding villa, settings which are less a forum for business maneuvers than family grievances.
While Kendall and Shiv take a pop at Roman, “the human fucking vote,” Tom is back in New York, wining and dining with Matsson. As it turns out, Shiv’s American CEO position isn’t so secure, as Matsson confesses to Tom that he has some struggles with Shiv’s assured narcissism. It isn’t just because this sort of confience threatens his power—it also attracts him. There is no discomfort in how he informs Tom that he’s interested in sleeping with his wife, nor in how he tells him that he’d rather get “the guy who put the baby inside her,” rather than “the baby lady” herself. Those who have been calling Tom the worst of the Succession bunch might have the best evidence in their favor here, as he retains a skin-crawlingly stable poker face throughout this entire interaction. Even after Matsson tells him that his CEO position would not be a partnership but a “pain sponge,” Tom grabs at the opportunity like a winning lottery ticket. The more Tom opens his heart, the more we see layers of shallow sycophancy.
Greg is the one to break the news to the Roy siblings that Shiv won’t be getting the CEO position, and the moment she hears about it, she’s set ablaze. It’s enough to redirect her efforts to Swedish assassination, re-teaming with her brothers and re-sparking the sibling alliance. The path forward, however, isn’t so simple. Waystar’s board isn’t going to accept a power-sharing situation between the three of them (they’re sick of dealing with “The Incredible Fuck Brother Bandwagon” of Kendall and Roman), which means doing something the Roy siblings have struggled with their entire lives: nominating a single monarch.
The argument about who should rule degenerates quickly, with everyone claiming that their nomination counts for the most. Roman received the promise of the throne days before Logan’s death. Shiv received it at the beginning of season two. Kendall, was promised it at seven years old. It’s this last argument that ultimately wins out, mainly for optics reasons, and though the other two are less than pleased,they’d rather have a Roy than a Swede leading the Waystar charge. On a midnight Bahamian swim, Roman and Shiv bequeath their brother with the crown. “It’s haunted and cursed and nothing will ever go right,” says Roman. “But enjoy your bauble!”
Kendall receives these words with pure joy. His brother and sister are happy too, despite their hostilities, and they celebrate Kendall’s ascension by forcing him to eat a Meal Fit for a King—the most disgusting possible combination of anything and everything to be found in mummy’s fridge. The scene plays out endearingly, with Roman licks his stepfather’s precious cheese, Caroline coming down to silence her naughty children (she’s unable to contain her pleasure), and Kendall finishing his meal by having it thrust upon him as a hat. It’s fun to see them in this juvenile mode, and serves as a definitive reminder that these three, once children together, have never truly grown up.
Just when you thought Succession’s sweetness had peaked, “With Open Eyes” brings on even more sugar. Everyone gathers back at Logan’s Manhattan apartment to begin the process of dispersal of Logan’s belongings. Amid the proess, the kids stumble upon a several weeks-old video footage of Logan and the Old Guard at dinner—a “Virtual Dinner with Pop” set up by Connor for his siblings. The video features a number of nostalgic tidbits, from Logan listing off all the presidential failures to Gerri delivering a dirty limerick to Connor doing a beautiful rendition of “I’m a Little Teapot” in the manner of his father. The video concludes with Karl singing the Scottish folk song “Green Grow the Rashes, O” with passion and hutzpah, enough that even Logan joins in by the end. The four siblings watch this Roy Home Movie with tears in their eyes, recognizing this as a rare moment in which the sun shone. The whole scene strains the slightest bit of credulity—it’s a bit far-fetched to think that Connor would just happen to have this footage on hand in such a time of need. But that’s OK. It’s good to have one last Roy adieu before the inevitable chaos ensues.
And boy oh boy, does the chaos ensue. The episode’s final sequence is a masterwork of dramatic tension, with the Roys nailing down every final vote while Matsson screams his elite team into oblivion. (Matsson shouting “WAKE UP, ZOMBIES!” is one of the most adrenaline-pumping moments of performance the show has ever had.) Special mention must be made in this instance of Tom and Greg, who finally reach the zenith of their abusive bromance when Tom finds out that Greg was the one who leaked the information about the American CEO. He pulls him away for a typical shout-and-slap fest in the bathroom—the same bathroom that Kendall tore apart in the series pilot. It’s the kind of thing that Tom has done time ang time again, but this time, something new: Greg slaps back. We feel the weight of every grapple and punch that follows, not least because of the pent-up anger that Nicholas Braun has been waiting to excise for over four seasons.
The episode concludes with boardroom showdown akin to “Which Side Are You On?”, the season one episode in which Succession truly came into its own. Here as then, Kendall leads an insurgent movement to wrest company control from a misogynist billionaire, but unlike then, he’s got Roman’s vote in the bag. In the previous scene, we saw Roman fall, teary-eyed, into his elder brother’s arms, asking why it couldn’t have been him on the throne. He knows the answer: Roman has always been the subservient brother, the wounded boy with a traumatic attachment to abuse. It’s why, when Kendall embraces him, Roman hugs him so tightly as to break apart the stitches on his head. Kendall has replaced Logan as Roman’s tormentor.
Roman’s vote ties the board 6-6, leaving the final vote to Shiv. And with the power to block the sale, she exits the room, sparking debates about why she didn’t just vote Kendall to power. Was she thinking of Matsson in this moment? Of Tom? Of Kendall unceremoniously propping his feet up at their dead father’s desk? The answer to each of these questions, of course, is Yes: each possibility burst into her head at once, and she ended up paralyzed.
You can already feel the misogynistic vitriol coming for Shiv because of this decision (and indeed she already has, in a manner akin to many women of prestige TV), so let me quickly put this to rest: Shiv is not the one to fuck the deal. She has a moment of hesitation, yes, but she doesn’t make her decision to back away until Kendall comes back into the room with his myopic narcissism. He fumes about how it would be crazy not to vote for him, how he’s “a cog built to fit only one machine.” When Shiv suggests that he might not actually be good at the job, he roars louder than he ever has. Then Shiv brings up the gun that has remained unfired for three seasons: “You can’t be CEO, because you killed someone.” And Kendall, spiraling into insanity, denies it.
This is the moment that breaks everything. By claiming that he wasn’t in the car with that waiter, that it simply “did not happen,” the deal collapses. Roman and Shiv are aghast at Kendall’s apparent willingness to play their feelings like an instrument. Realizing just how petulant he truly is, just how much his need for power has turned him into an unfeeling psychopath, they turn on him like a dime. His response—to scream “I AM THE ELDEST BOY!” like spoiled eight-year-old—signifies the degree of his entitlement, to which Shiv can only say, “I love you, but I cannot fucking stomach you.” Kendall keeps arguing, but it’s no use. She makes her vote. The company is sold.
It couldn’t have happened any other way. Succession was a tragedy from the very start, and Kendall’s need to take over the company—that ultimate act of symbolic patricide—has always been his fatal flaw. It blinded him from the damage it did to himself, his siblings, and the world; it kept him mired in the belief that he was somehow a good person, that he was his father, but better. He needed the company so much, and for that reason, he could never have it.
Less expected—though no less inevitable—was the rise of Darth Tom. His particular brand of cold-blooded cruelty was always more malicious that of the Roys, precisely because he was untethered from their dynastic squabblings. They were too entitled, too privileged, too believing of their own billionaire bullshit. Tom is none of these things. He is a pain sponge. He will suck the biggest dick in the room. He will gladly listen as his soon-to-be corporate overlord tells him that he’s interested in sleeping with his wife. He never believed that he was anything less than absolute dirt-poor bullshit, and because of that, he won. He does retain at least one piece of his humanity. When Greg comes crawling back, wondering what he’ll make of his life after betrayal, Tom forgives him. “I’ve got you,” says Tom as he anoints his bumbling protégé with an honorary sticker. For whoever and whatever else Tom will destroy to climb to the top—his wife, his in-laws, his own humanity—there’s a bond of intimacy between the Disgusting Brothers that can never, ever be broken.
At episode’s end, each of the three siblings gets their moment in the light. Roman sits alone at a bar in his final shot, sipping a martini—Gerri’s favorite drink—and giving the camera an enigmatic smile—a moment that signals both loneliness and liberation. Shiv ends the series in subservience, riding away in the back of a car with her newly-crowned husband. When he offers her his hand—not out of compassion, but fealty—she places it delicately, uncertainly on his. Kendall, walks purposeless and forlorn through Battery Park as Colin, his father’s bodyguard, trails him in the background. The shot that closes out the series—Kendall staring out at the roiling waves, broken to his core—is realized with the kind of cinematic precision that has guided the show from the beginning. He who always thought he could usurp his father finally becomes him.
And yet…
I can’t help but feel that this final shot lacks some added tinge of magnificence that I would have hoped for. Despite what I said at the top of this (insanely long) recap, I have to admit that “With Open Eyes” did not give me the chilling transcendence of a Sopranos finale, or of an Atlanta, or perhaps even of a Godfather Part II—works which ended by forcing the audience into interpretive ambiguity. The Godfather Part II, another story about inheritance, family, and the slow-burn corruption of a chosen son, came particularly to mind when watching the Succession finale, especially since both conclude with a dynastic inheritor look back upon their destructions and failures. Where Succession chose to end simply, The Godfather Part II ended in reflection: the final scene transports us back to before the events of the first film, giving us the space to consider how Michael both did and did not transform into the heartless monster that he became.
I’ll admit that I was hoping for something similar in “With Open Eyes,” and not just because it could have brought back Brian Cox one last time. Perhaps seeing Kendall and his father once more would have solidified our understanding of Kendall’s nature, as the son who always demanded his father’s approval by way of violence.
But speaking in would-haves and could-haves doesn’t get us anywhere; neither is it my place to do so. As it is, “With Open Eyes” keeps to the aesthetic ethos of a show which has maintained a purity of vision across four seasons. Succession’s finale is a fantastic one, certifying the show not just as one of the greatest of all time, but one that also never strayed from the simplicity of its thesis. It began with its protagonist seeking to usurp his father’s wasteland, and concluded with him inheriting his broken bones. Succession’s message remained true to the end.
Notes and Quotes
Thanks to everyone for reading these recaps over the past ten weeks! Even if you just chimed in for just a few, I’m glad to have you here. (And if you aren’t subscribed: please consider hitting that blue button!) It’s been a wonderful (and sometimes exhausting) experience to get down every thought I could ever possibly have about this magnificent series, and entirely worthwhile. There aren’t many shows I’m obsessed with in the way I am Succession, so expect a return to your regularly scheduled Airplane Mode programming over the coming weeks—i.e., movie reviews and commentary!
A particular shoutout to my friend Ben, who was the source of all these pesky Succession emails you’ve been receiving over the past month. Late at night and three beers deep, Ben challenged me to recap every episode of this final scene, promising me that I would feel accomplished after the fact. He was right. But I also have to say: recapping this season was also insane to do alongside the chaos of working my film festival job. So after all these hours upon hours of work, with sweat from my hands and blood in my hair, I am obliged to ask: Ya Happy Now?
I’ve been pondering where Succession ought to fall on my Best Prestige Shows of All Time list, and though this will need some time to gestate before I can make any certain conclusions, I still don’t think it can quite beat The Wire as the most singular television achievement of all time. Here’s my tentative top five:
The Wire
Succession
The Sopranos
Twin Peaks
Mad Men
One thing I loved about this finale was how it sets up a possible fifth season with zero intention of following up. A number of possible plot threads are revealed: Mencken might not win the election due to the contested Wisconsin votes; Connor and Willa are going to give long distance a try; Tom’s CEO position is anything but certain. These plot threads will never be explored—this is the series finale, after all, and indeed there is a brilliance in teasing out the possibility of an imagined future for these characters. It harkens back to a quote from the great David Lynch, who has argued that mysteries in storytelling should never be fully resolved. “I want things to feel solved up to a point,” Lynch argues, “but there’s got to be a certain percentage left over to keep the dream going.” Jesse Armstrong has done something similar with “With Open Eyes,” a series finale which shows us a world continuing on after our time with it ends.
Matsson’s final celebration of acquiring Waystar is another indication of why he is Logan Reincarnated. He owns the room with his charisma, dropping one-liners like “What’s the return policy on this?” after signing the sale and calling himself Jesus among a squad of business disciples. Plus, Greg gets called out as Judas!
Just before they anoint their brother, Roman and Shiv come to something of a realization about their father’s total lack of interest in a successor. “I don’t think Dad gave a fuck about anything more than putting one foot in front of the other,” admits Shiv, to which Roman can’t help but agree. It’s notable that Kendall, floating in the Atlantic, doesn’t hear conversation this takes place. He cannot and will never hear of his father’s dismissal.
Tom makes an impassioned speech for his managerial skills during his dinner with Matsson, and he does a great job ingratiating himself before his incoming boss. Yet there was one section of speech that I hate to admit resonated with me rather deeply: “I’m a grinder. I grind because I worry. I worry all night—about everything. All the threats to me and to my division and my physical body.”
Nicholas Braun remains Succession’s undefeated king of comedy, certifying that crown during the scene in which he brokers the news of GoJo’s American CEO position. On the phone call with Kendall, he asks, “If I give you something incredible, would you give me something amazing?” and “Could I quad it up? Like full quad?” Both are all-time Greg quotes.
Great to hear about the return of Lawrence Yee, CEO of the now-defunct Vaulter—even if his appearance was an entirely offscreen interview for Matsson’s American CEO position. Rob Yang was a great addition to the show, and it was a sad day when Kendall gutted his company. (“Vaulter” is among my top five favorite Succession episodes of all time.)
It’s disgusting, and yet another extension of his absurd commitment to character, but you have commend how Jeremy Strong really drank that Meal Fit For a King sludge. You can’t say that he doesn’t live and breathe Kendall Roy with his own body and soul.
Peter Munion the Onion returns! And he brings with him Jonathan, an American buddy of his intent on bluffing the Roy sibs into a Ponzi scheme. Whatever it is, he gives a terrible pitch: “Now, we’re gonna be skating very close to the wind, but I’m absolutely confident that no one can—well, in layman’s terms, ‘get us’ on this.”
Connor’s process for dispersing his father’s item, involving “stickering perambulating circuits” (SPCs) and “tie-break stickering perambulation circuits” (TBSPCs), is as convoluted as it is hilarious.
Kendall calls his new assistant “New Jess” instead of her actual name—a sign that Old Jess can never be replaced.
A huge, huge shoutout to Hugo for saying the words, “big, big day on the old salami line.”
Tom really dives into his Central European history to analogize his approach to divorce: “I just want it to be really nice, and we should Czechoslovakia it, you know? We should make it all lovely velvet, parting of the ways.”
Lady Caroline has an aversion to eyes, apparently, which I think we can read as a terror of the human soul: “I don’t like to think of all these blobs of jelly rolling around in your head. Just… face eggs.”
Shoutout to Roman for trying to preserve his masculinity: “I was in a very violent fight—which I won, by the way—but I’m fine.”
Greg only 200k a year! It seems small given the absurd wealth that surrounds him, but once Tom calls him the “highest paid assistant in human history,” I suppose it makes a bit more sense.
Matsson on New York seafood: “Sometimes I feel like every fish in the city is the same piece of Xeroxed branzino, you know?” (I really don’t.)
Roman to Shiv after she was duped by Matsson: “He played you like a big fiddle! Like a pregnant cello.”
Fascinating to read your detailed commentary of the last episode. You are a gifted writer for a sophisticated audience.
I am happy now. Going to miss both the show and your recaps.