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  • The Eyes Don’t Have It: Succession’s Series Finale, “With Open Eyes,” Emphasizes That Hubris Makes You Blind

    The Eyes Don’t Have It: Succession’s Series Finale, “With Open Eyes,” Emphasizes That Hubris Makes You Blind

    If Kendall (Jeremy Strong) hugging Roman (Kieran Culkin) toward the end of the series finale of Succession reminded viewers of anything, it’s that, when it comes to the Roys, love fucking hurts—and seems to cause far more pain than it’s worth. The last episode, “With Open Eyes,” offers an ominous title in and of itself without any backstory, but taking into account that it continues the Succession season finale tradition of using lines from John Berryman’s “Dream Song 29,” it adds yet another sinister layer. Berryman himself was haunted his whole life by his father’s suicide when the poet was just eleven. With Succession being, at its core, a show about daddy issues and what they can wreak, it seems appropriate to interweave this writer into final episode titles. And oh, what a final episode “With Open Eyes” is. And yes, it’s all about eyes in this narrative. Particularly how those with sight can be so blind (see also: King Lear).

    The emphasis on eyes begins the moment Shiv (Sarah Snook) arrives in Barbados at the urging of her mother, Caroline (Harriet Walter), to come and comfort Roman after the beating he took at the end of episode nine, “Church and State.” Naturally, Shiv is only really interested in taking the trip so she can lock down another vote and really secure the GoJo deal for Lukas Matsson (Alexander Skarsgård), who has promised to make her the CEO once the merger and acquisition goes through.

    Alas, in the business realm, where misogyny reigns more supremely than anywhere else besides politics, it’s clear that Matsson actually doesn’t feel that comfortable with Shiv taking the front seat while he rides shotgun at best, and in the trunk at worst. A profile in some New Yorker-esque rag featuring a cartoon of Shiv as the puppet master pulling Matsson’s strings (even though the article is called “Is Lukas Matsson Taking Over the World?”) does little to assuage his wounded ego. After all, he’s already being forced to stand in the shadows for the sake of the deal going through with an anti-foreign business president taking the reins (or not…the finale leaves that open-ended as well). And it seems to dawn on him that it would be so much better to have someone (a man, of course) in charge that he could boss around with far more ease than he can Shiv, who easily lives up to her nickname by shiving Kendall in the back at the end of the episode. And just when it seemed like the trio was getting along so well, too. That is, back in the kitchen of Caroline’s “hellhole in paradise.” After Caroline remarked to Shiv about being unable to “tend to” Roman, “There’s something about eyes. They just kind of, ugh, revolt me.” Shiv clarifies, “Eyes? Like human eyes we all have?” “Yeah, I don’t like to think of all these blobs of jelly rolling around in your head. Just…face eggs.” To be sure, that is what they amount to when you can’t really see past the blinding nature of your own hubris.

    Something all four of the Roy children suffer from…because let’s not forget about Connor (Alan Ruck). Even if his appearance is minimal as usual, but nonetheless effective. Especially when, via a fresh home movie, he stands next to Logan (Brian Cox) and delivers a performance of “I’m a Little Teapot” “in the manner of Logan Roy.” The lyrics then, naturally, go, “I am a little teapot—fuck off! Short and stout—what did you fucking call me? Here’s my handle, here’s my fuckin’ spout. When I get steamed up, you can hear me shout—Frank Vernon is a moron, Karl Muller is a kraut!” But Karl (David Rasche) can still sing a good Scottish folk song as he regales the dinner table with his rendition of “Green Grow the Rashes, O.” The lyrical content of which hits too close to home for the Roy children as they listen to the words, “Green grow the rashes, O/The sweetest hours that e’er I spend/Are spent among the lasses, O/The war’ly race may riches chase/And riches still may fly them, O/And even though they catch ‘em fast/Their hearts can ne’er enjoy them, O.”

    What modicum of something resembling “hearts” the Roy children might have certainly don’t allow them to enjoy much, that’s for sure. Indeed, they all seem like masochists who actually relish torturing themselves, and reminding the other siblings of who they really are. For a brief moment in the episode, Shiv and Roman are compelled to make Kendall forget who he is at his core by obliging him in his long-standing, ceaseless desire to become Waystar Royco’s CEO. Upon Kendall informing Shiv that Matsson ousting her (per craftily-secured intel from Greg [Nicholas Braun]), the trio at last aligns to form a bloc that will stop the vote from going through. The only problem, as usual, is that none of them can agree on who should be CEO.

    With Kendall swimming out to a dock to let his siblings confer in the darkness of a Barbados beach, Shiv and Roman discuss whether or not they ought to finally just let Kendall have what he’s been dreaming of ever since this whole saga began. Roman asks, “Should we give it to him?” An annoyed Shiv says, “Yeah, we probably should.” Shiv pauses and then adds deviously. “Unless we kill him.” Although meant “in jest,” it’s ultimately exactly what Shiv decides to do by ousting her big bro at the last minute. And when she cuts him with that knife, he definitely bleeds, saying, “I feel like…if I don’t get to do this—I, I feel like, that’s it. I might, I might, uh, like I might die.” And there is that exact feeling as we watch him sink via the elevator back into the bowels of the cruel real world. Whether or not he tries to kill himself now, Kendall is already dead.

    Perhaps it’s all part of his karma for Andrew Dodds (Tom Morley), the waiter who ended up drowning at the end of season one as a result of Kendall’s insatiable search for drugs. When Kendall spots the waiter, just fired from Shiv’s wedding by Logan, he asks him for a “powder” connect. When Andrew tries to offer him some ketamine, which he does himself, Kendall insists he needs a “different vibe tonight”: coke. Thus, Kendall drives them through the darkened English countryside in search of Andrew’s connection. When he sees a deer in the road and swerves, Kendall crashes the car in the water, leaving a ket’d-out Andrew to die. In the present, when Shiv and Roman bring the murder up (which Kendall confessed to them in the season three finale, “All the Bells Say”), Kendall has lost all sense of guilt for the “incident,” immediately responding, “It did not happen. I wasn’t even there.” He then reiterates, “It did not happen!” Because when rich people say something didn’t happen, then it definitely didn’t. But this denial makes Shiv all the more disgusted by her brother, and therefore convinced they’re better off selling the company than letting him be the CEO. Blinded by her own jealousy, of course, she would rather watch the company burn in someone else’s hands than let Ken take his shot. And, talking once more of eyes and sight, when Roman reminds that, in terms of “bloodline,” Ken’s children aren’t “‘real’ real,” he escalates the eye jelly comment Caroline foreshadowed to the next level by pressing Roman’s eyeballs in (already having mushed Roman’s face into his shoulder in that previous scene of “aggressive love”).

    This gives Shiv her opportunity to go back into the meeting and cast her vote in favor of the GoJo deal despite being betrayed by Matsson. And despite the fact that the CEO position will go to, of all people, Tom fucking Wambsgans (Matthew Macfadyen). The one person who should have been axed ages ago both personally and professionally, but managed to shapeshift his way to the top. Indeed, it’s his “mutability” that makes him so appealing to Matsson, whose opinion of this non-person is obviously cinched when Shiv describes him as “very plausible corporate matter” and “a highly interchangeable modular part.” In other words, exactly what Matsson is looking for in his own puppet. And, being that Tom sells himself by noting of his current position, “I’m cutting heads and harvesting eyeballs,” Matsson can tell he’s got the chops to give the chop to whoever he says, whenever he says. Of course, Tom’s mention of harvesting eyeballs is yet another nod to the notion of sight and vision—or rather, lack thereof—in this episode, and in Logan’s progeny.

    Kendall obviously had no foresight about Shiv’s sudden treachery, prompting him to continue to stand in disbelief in the office where the emotional and physical altercation transpired. Roman finally lays the truth out for him: “It’s fuck-all, man. It’s bits of glue and broken shows, fuckin’ phony news, fucking come on.” Unable to see that reality, Kendall keeps urging, “We have this, we can still do this.” Himself seeing clearly for the first time, Roman balks, “Oh my god, man, it’s nothing. Okay? It’s just nothing. It’s fucking nothing. Stop it!” Kendall, who has placed his entire identity into this role of “successor” cannot believe what Roman is saying, repeating “no” over and over again until Roman interjects, “Yeah. Hey, we are bullshit… You are bullshit. You’re fucking bullshit, man. I’m fucking bullshit. She’s bullshit. It’s all fucking nothing, man. I’m telling you this because I know it, okay? We’re nothing. Okay.”

    And so it is that Roman is the one to finally admit that what Logan said at the beginning of season four was accurate, even if harsh: “You’re such fucking dopes. You’re not serious figures. I love you, but…you are not…serious people.” Only ornaments and pawns in the life of Logan, the quintessential King Lear figure of this narrative. And yet, a Cordelia never seems to manifest in any of his children. It’s nothing but Regans and Gonerils where the obsession with “winning at inheritance” is concerned.

    Genna Rivieccio

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  • Cameron Frye and Connor Roy: “My Old Man Pushes Me Around” No More!

    Cameron Frye and Connor Roy: “My Old Man Pushes Me Around” No More!

    Just as it is for the Roy family at large, for many viewers of Succession, Connor Roy (Alan Ruck) is pure background. It hasn’t really been until season four that he’s been permitted his moment to shine. To “take a stand,” as Ruck’s most famous character, Cameron Frye, would say. And it starts with episode two, “Rehearsal,” in which he displays the full extent of his vulnerability during a karaoke session. Not just because he opts to sing Leonard Cohen’s “Famous Blue Raincoat” but because, just as he did in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off as Cameron, he decides to take a stand and defend it. And yes, singing Leonard Cohen at karaoke (even if only in a room as opposed to a more public stage) definitely counts among the ranks of taking a stand and defending it (regardless of Roman [Kieran Culkin] jibing, “This is Guantanamo-level shit”).

    It’s no coincidence that he should choose that particular song, either. Not with Cohen singing, “I hear that you’re building your little house deep in the desert/You’re living for nothing now, I hope you’re keeping some kind of record.” Lest one needs to be reminded, the early seasons of Succession find Connor living alone in the desert of New Mexico in his palatial palace. A cold place in a hot climate, where he still can’t seem to finagle something akin to love. Not even from his “girlfriend,” Willa (Justine Lupe), a call girl he pays to keep around. Eventually paying enough to make her want to be his full-time girlfriend. But back to the lyrics of “Famous Blue Raincoat,” also fitting for Connor’s sibling situation with the Cain and Abel allusion in the line, “And what can I tell you my brother, my killer?”

    Both Kendall (Jeremy Strong) and Roman have no need of killing their half-bro, however—for he’s so irrelevant to their patriarch, Logan Roy (Brian Cox), that wasting any energy on him would be wasting much-needed focus on “securing the position.” CEO of Waystar-Royco. Something that was never going to belong to “hapless” Connor, who spent three years of his childhood without seeing his father at all. “Attachment” isn’t exactly a thing between him and Logan, nor is it between Cameron and Morris, who never appears once in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off—merely looms large as a source of fear. Especially after Ferris (Matthew Broderick) gets Cam (“Con” also has a shortened version of his name) to take his dad’s Ferrari out for the day.

    Not one to be disagreeable, Cameron ultimately concedes to loaning out the car after several half-hearted attempts at protesting. Lying in bed genuinely sick (even if only in the head) as opposed to Ferris’ fake-out version of sickness, it’s clear Cam’s family doesn’t need to be played to in order for him to get out of school. They’re never around anyway. Least of all his father, off being the “provider” of the family, therefore excused from anything like involvement. Yes, it sounds a lot like Logan Roy. And Cameron, like Con, leads a privileged existence with the trade-off of never experiencing any emotional attachment or care whatsoever. With regard to “Con,” there’s one in every family, to be sure. Someone who never gets quite the same amount of attention or consideration. Whether because their personality is more demure or they don’t seem “special” enough to warrant as much care. Connor falls into both categories, with Shiv (Sarah Snook) in the Sloane Peterson (Mia Sara) role and Kendall and Roman trading off on being the overly arrogant Ferris Bueller (Roman obviously being more Ferris-y than Ken). A scene of Cameron stuffed in the back of the Ferrari that Ferris and Sloane are effectively using him for speaks volumes vis-à-vis this dynamic. The only time anyone bothers with Con is when they need him for something…so basically they never much bother with him.

    Sure, he’s there for “ceremonious” events like birthdays and family vacations, but, by and large, he’s out of the fold. Until season four rolls around and, suddenly, the “Rebel Alliance” that is Shiv, Kendall and Roman ends up prompting Con to say, “This is how it is, huh? The battle royale? Me and dad on one side, you guys on the other.” This after Willa has walked out on their wedding rehearsal dinner, leaving Con with no one to “turn to” for “comfort” but his so-called family. The trio of his siblings (all of whom show up late because Logan cut off their helicopter access) amounts to one giant Ferris Bueller, the narcissist in the dynamic constantly taking up space and demanding more from the Cameron/Connor of the outfit. Meanwhile, all Connor is asking for is a round of karaoke at Maru, one of many overpriced options within the parameters of Koreatown’s 32nd Street.

    Upon arriving to said location (under duress for most of them), Connor is quick to admit that he told Logan where they are, and he’s coming over to “talk things out”—presumably the deal that Shiv, Kendall and Roman want to fuck by asking for more money of Lukas Matsson (Alexander Skarsgård) in exchange for merging his streaming company, GoJo, with Waystar. In defense of himself, Connor replies to the sibling backlash, “My life isn’t filled with secrets like some people. And I want my father to be at my wedding.”

    To everyone’s surprise, though, Logan wants to make an “apology.” Or the closest he can get to one. But with all the hemming and hawing, Kendall is quick to redirect his father’s messaging by demanding, “What are you sorry for, Dad? Fucking ignoring Connor his whole life?” He later adds, “Having Connor’s mother locked up?” This being why Connor refers to the cake at his wedding as “loony cake.” A type of dessert he apparently associates with Victoria sponge cake and doesn’t care for at all because it was what was fed to him for a week after his mother was institutionalized. So yeah, even Kendall can take a moment here and there to stand up for his older brother and acknowledge that Con might have had a more emotionally bankrupt childhood than all of them.

    In that regard, his bid for normalcy is earnest when he declares to his brothers and sister, “I would like to sing one fucking song at karaoke because I’ve seen it in the movies and nobody ever wants to go.” Perhaps he saw it in a certain form in the movie that he co-starred in with Broderick, as the latter plays the titular character lip-syncing to Wayne Newton’s “Danke Schoen” and The Beatles’ “Twist and Shout” on a parade float in the middle of Chicago. Something Cameron nor Connor would ever do. Possibly because attention-seeking is a type of love-seeking. And that’s never been either character’s “game.” Though both slowly start to realize that maybe it should be. Even as Connor notes something as heart-wrenching to his siblings as, “The good thing about having a family that doesn’t love you is you learn to live without it… You’re all chasin’ after Dad saying, ‘Oh love me, please love me. I need love, I need attention.’ You’re needy love sponges, and I’m a plant that grows on rocks and lives off insects that die inside of me. If Willa doesn’t come back, that’s fine. ‘Cause I don’t need love. It’s like a superpower.”

    Cameron Frye knows that’s not entirely true. It’s also a curse that causes severe anxiety and depression, finally pushing him toward the revelation, “I’m bullshit. I put up with everything. My old man pushes me around…I never say anything! Well he’s not the problem, I’m the problem [cue a lawsuit against Taylor Swift]. I gotta take a stand. I gotta take a stand against him. I am not gonna sit on my ass as the events that affect me unfold to determine the course of my life. I’m gonna take a stand. I’m gonna defend it. Right or wrong, I’m gonna defend it.” Something Connor must decide to do in “Connor’s Wedding,” easily the most landmark episode of Succession ever aired. And yet, as usual, just because his name is in the title doesn’t mean he gets the theoretical spotlight. No, this is all about his father. Just as it always is. The same geos for Cameron and Morris, inciting the former to finally lose it and kick the shit out of the Ferrari as he screams, “I’m so sick of his shit. I can’t stand him and I hate this goddamn car! Who do ya love? Who do ya love? You love a car!”

    To this, Logan Roy might placate, “I love you…but you are not serious people.” These are his final sentiments directed at his children. Though no one is aware of it until the next day, when Logan’s heart fails (ironically appropriate) while on a private jet to negotiate the deal again with Matsson…thanks to his own kids painting him in a corner to do so. It was the previous night at karaoke that Logan understood the scope of his disgust with them. For here he is, the affluent, distant father figure (like Cameron’s) being unclear what more his children could “take” or want from him after everything he’s already given. Back out on the street with his latest “right-hand woman,” Kerry (Zoe Winters), he clocks a homeless man digging through the trash and seethes, “Look at this prick. They should get out here. Some cunt doing the tin cans for his supper, take a sip of that medicine. This city…the rats are as fat as skunks. They hardly care to run anymore.” Obviously taking a swipe at his lazy, greedy children. Except for Con, who really just wants it all to be over. Unfortunately, it’s only just getting started now that Logan is dead. And as usual, Con is the last to know about it, gently informed by Kendall only to instantly reply, “Oh man, he never even liked me,” trying to smooth that statement over with, “I never got the chance to make him proud of me.”

    Of course, that was never going to happen. Because there is no “pleasing” a man like Logan or Morris. And Connor always getting the short end of the stick from his father reaches a poetic peak with him dying on Connor’s wedding day, casting a dark, attention-stealing pall over the event. All Con can finally assess about it to Willa is: “My father’s dead and I feel old.” Cameron probably would have said the same thing. And he, too, probably would have soon after carried out his intended plans for the day. After all, he’s not one to let his old man push him around anymore, especially not now that he’s dead. He’s going to take a stand (for “love”) and defend it. Right or wrong.

    That’s why, in the end, he goes through with the wedding, not bothering to join his three half-siblings as they go to deal with their father’s body and make a statement to the press. In this sense, Connor has always been the freest, learning long ago not to bother chasing down the love of a patriarch who was incapable of it. Perhaps learning that from the person he was in another life: Cameron Frye. Meanwhile, Connor’s siblings will continue to volley for Logan’s invisible favor in not-so-subtle ways even after he’s gone.

    Genna Rivieccio

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