What Kind of Game Is Kendall Playing on 'Succession'?
As Season 2 of Succession chronicles the renewed battle for control of fictional media superpower Waystar Royco, the comparisons between the cutthroat musical chairs of corporate America and Game of Thrones’ Westeros are more striking than ever. That's why every week, BAZAAR.com is watching the throne and naming the winners and losers in the battle for Waystar Royco. Here's the verdict for Season 2 Episode 4, "Safe Room."
The Winner: Kendall
If Kendall can’t make a career at Waystar work out, maybe he should consider acting. Last week, he coaxed Roman into a false sense of security before butchering his younger brother and serving him to Logan on a platter. This week, he’s playing multiple roles with an unsettling ease.
There are several layers of conspiracy at work. Kendall’s the image of a doting, submissive son with Logan, juggling the demands of running a $24 billion takeover bid and monitoring his father’s health—down to his medication schedule—with the kind of dexterity Season 1 Ken dreamt of. With Shiv, he’s the most like his normal, pre-breakdown self—wry, questioning, and manipulative, intent on making his sister uncomfortable with her newfound interest in Waystar Royco (remember, only Logan, Shiv, and Tom know about the pact in the Hamptons). In fact, after a particularly tense round of interrogation from Kendall, Shiv feels compelled to point out, “You seem to be mistaking me for someone you’re in competition with.” This sibling dynamic culminates in a face-off with Pierce CEO Rhea Jarrell (Holly Hunter). She's at Waystar to meet with Logan and Kendall and formally decline their takeover offer, but when an active shooter situation at ATN forces Kendall, Shiv, Rhea, and Logan into a panic room together, the real negotiation begins.
The transaction is a joint effort, and an intoxicating display of the power the Roys wield when they’re working toward the same goal—even while sabotaging each other. Shiv's sincerely skittish about the merger and convinces Rhea she doesn’t agree with a Waystar-Pierce alliance, leading Kendall to undercut her with a jab at her lack of “years of media business experience.” Now Rhea feels she has an ally in the room, and she's more receptive to Kendall’s escalating bid. With Logan watching, Shiv knows she has to tread carefully; she can't fully contradict her father, so she plays both sides, assuring Rhea that Waystar would guarantee Pierce’s editorial independence while simultaneously challenging Kendall’s rising offers. When Logan jumps in with 22.5 billion, Rhea wavers—“Now, honestly, be careful or I’ll take you seriously”—but Shiv bungles it by overdoing the PR pitch. “I think it’s telling that your most positive spin still sounds a bit rape-y,” Rhea notes.
Either Logan’s had enough of the banter or thinks his children have loosened Rhea enough, because he pulls the trust card, a reminder of exactly the kind of influence he wields. “This is what it comes down to. We draw up some agreement with any number of provisions in it, but you know that if I want, I’ll find a way around it,” he tells Rhea. “So in the end, it’s a question, right? If I say I won’t fuck Pierce over—I’ll keep the brand, their editors, their people—do you trust me? And will you tell them to trust me?” Logan has failed to provide his children with even a shred of emotional support, yet he’s mastered the art of the corporate deal, of making business deals appealing on a deeply intimate level: “Because when I say something will happen, that thing will happen. Am I right kids?” Shiv and Kendall know he’s full of it—their own father has screwed them over more times than they can count—but they wouldn’t dare go against him. They murmur their assent, and Rhea’s hooked.
Logan’s congratulating Kendall before Rhea’s even in her car. Shiv’s rightfully pissed, and corners Kendall as soon as they’re alone: What sort of deal does he have with Logan? What exactly is going on? Here, a third, broken Kendall emerges. He appears to be internally collapsing—he climbs to the roof of Waystar HQ several times throughout the episode, clearly considering jumping; earlier in the hour, Shiv learns Gerri, Karolina, and Jess are cleaning up the damage from his daily drug deliveries and new shoplifting habit. Shiv wants to know why Logan's putting up with this.
Kendall tries to maintain a neutral face, but when Shiv pushes him, he breaks. “It’s not gonna be me,” he says shakily, and when Shiv prods for an explanation, he asks for a hug instead. His fragility is frighteningly convincing, enough to unsettle a normally-unruffled Shiv, who softens at his tears. “I would just ask that you take care of me. Because, uh, if dad didn’t need me right now, I don’t exactly know what I would be for,” Kendall begs his sister. The exchange is so personal it’s almost discomfiting—these two rarely behave like actual siblings—and though it's clear Kendall’s genuinely hurting, he’s also using his baggage to mask his real intentions. He’s emotionally broken, but he's beginning to realize he can use that to fuel his professional acceleration. If Logan can recognize Kendall as the soulless mercenary he’s becoming, maybe he’ll feel more comfortable handing over more responsibility. Maybe even the top job—someday.
The Loser: Greg
Tom suffered back-to-back blows in the last two episodes, but this week, his right-hand man managed to sink just a bit lower. Greg’s had a relatively uneventful run of Season 2 so far; other than living in an apartment funded (and often, trashed) by Kendall, Greg’s biggest plot point revolves around his warring conscience. He’s working for Tom at ATN—”a very toxic element in the culture,” as he puts it in Episode 2—and in this week’s episode, Greg reaches his boiling point.
The situation at ATN has grown bleaker since Greg flagged his concerns about racism and ethics to Tom earlier in the season. The channel is embroiled in a controversy over anchor Mark Ravenhead's ties to fascist groups, and his supporters are clashing with antifa outside Waystar HQ. Inside, Tom’s unleashing his own brand of chaos, hazing one of his new employees by using him as a human footstool. When a gunshot goes off in the ATN offices, Greg and Tom race each other to a makeshift panic room, where Greg melts down, screaming about the lack of security features (“A person can definitely fit through that window. A small person. An attack child.”) and Tom’s cowardice in the face of gunfire.
No logical person could fault Greg for craving release from this environment, but his timing could be better. When his fear subsides, he decides to have a talk with Tom—in the panic room. Disguising his concerns with a request for career advancement, Greg suggests he and Tom have a “business open relationship;” Greg will work somewhere else at Waystar for a while, then return to Tom at a later date. Tom, already weakened by the terror of the situation, the pressure of his new job, and several weeks’ worth of professional and personal humiliation courtesy of his wife, utterly loses his grip on reality. He spies a case of water bottles in the corner and starts punting them at Greg's cowering figure.
Oncer the scare is over, Tom apologizes for his behavior with an unexpected admission of vulnerability: “I don’t always like who I am.” Greg spies a chance to deploy his last bit of ammunition. “I’m not bringing this up as any form of threat, but… you know when you had me destroy those documents at cruises?” Tom pointedly denies the question, and Greg admits he kept some of the evidence for leverage. “I don’t wanna bring anything up to you in a way that feels horrible, but would it be bad for me to, like, mention those to you now?” This attempt at extortion backfires in a way that could only happen to Greg. Tom is thrilled his protégé is learning the ways of the Roy world, and promotes Greg on the spot. “New title. Ton more money. Nice new office.” There's fear beneath Greg's goofy smile—ATN might get its claws into him yet.
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