How perfect that his death would happen on his private plane, that his children's last words to their alienated father would be spoken over the phone (and they weren't even sure he could hear them),* and that the family tragedy would be set against the backdrop of a comically over-the-top wedding. The privilege, the piercing dialogue, and the emotional trauma that have made the series one of television's most extraordinary were all on display in episode three of the final season of Succession. And as its central character dies, this show about power finally tells us that eventually, one way or another, everyone loses it, even King Lear, even Logan Roy.
From the start, Succession has been compared to Shakespeare's tragedy because of its family story of inheritance, love and betrayal. But the brilliant fusing of those themes with dazzling writing, depth of character and dramatic structure may be series creator Jesse Armstrong's most ambitious, Shakespearean nod of all. A will-he-or-won't-he-die question plays out with the pacing and suspense of a thriller in this episode, enhanced with an emotion that this show about cold-blooded power plays has touched on but never fully realised before.
In a clever bit of misdirection, the backdrop to the wrenching emotion is Connor's ridiculous, tacky wedding on a rented tour boat heading to the Statue of Liberty, in an attempt to get attention for his delusional, failing presidential campaign. The wedding is an example of the show's biting satire, which draws attention to the absurdity of excessive wealth. It also contrasts with and leads to one of the series' most impressive plot swerves. As Logan and his team are flying to Europe, Tom calls from the plane to tell Kendall, Shiv and Roman that their father has collapsed and is getting chest compressions. Even in a show that is famous for its unexpected plot twists involving intricate business manoeuvres, this abrupt turn reminds us that no matter how wealthy or powerful you are, life can get you fast.
The rest of the episode takes place almost in real time, ramping up the tension. Every passing second makes it less likely Logan will survive. One of the most effective choices is to keep him off screen from the minute we hear he is ill. Brilliantly, and to great emotional effect, the drama places us in his children's position. When Tom says he'll put the phone to Logan's ear, the dynamic is intense because no one knows if they are already speaking into a void. And in some of the series' best writing, the calls display the essence of each character, and how profound their love-hate feelings for Logan are.
Ken (Jeremy Strong), whom Logan once set up to take the fall for corporate crimes and in return denounced his father publicly, tells him, "I don't forgive you. I love you." On some level he probably believes that, but it is a vicious goodbye. Perhaps that makes him the child most like Logan.
Shiv (Sarah Snook) has wavered between desperately needing her father's love and selling him out because he has done the same to her. Now she reverts to being his little princess, saying to her unresponsive father, "Dad. Dad. Daddy."
Roman (Kieran Culkin), often reluctant to grow up, doesn't want to believe Logan is dying, telling his father that of course he'll pull through. The Lear analogy may be overused, but Roman is the shadow Cordelia figure, the youngest and most loving. Again and again he has tried to sell out his father, but in the end never can.
And, as always, Connor (Alan Ruck), who poignantly revealed in episode two that he has learned to live without love, is an afterthought, called in by his siblings when it is too late to even try to talk to their father.
It is not shocking that Logan dies, of course. Armstrong's original plan was to kill him off in the first season. His relatively early exit now gives the series room to breathe as it plays out the actual succession, in a sense bringing the show back to what it was always intended to be.
But Logan's absence highlights how diminished the series would have been without him. Every string his children pulled, every undermining manoeuvre they tried, led back to him, setting him up to roar at them, "I won!" Brian Cox has made Logan one of television's most indelible characters. His last encounter with any of his children is a call ordering Roman to fire Gerri (J Smith-Cameron), a cruel and masterful stroke. At once, he cuts her out as a threat, tests Roman's loyalty, and breaks Roman and Gerri's sexually fraught flirtation. To the end, Logan stays true to his monstrous self. And he refuses to give up power. Lear-like, he leaves no clarity about a successor, just a mess
