The last in a dying breed of despotic dads? That’s the secret to the success of Succession
SPECULATION about whether the billionaire Roy family at the centre of TV drama Succession, the third series of which kicks off today, is based on Rupert Murdoch and his clan may fuel the fire of interest in the show, but it is largely irrelevant.
Outwardly the show is about the dodgy business ethics of a family firm – cover-ups, boardroom deals and internecine feuds that consume them while their stupendous wealth lends a patina of sumptuous glamour to the world of the one per cent.
But at heart Succession is about a domineering patriarch, Logan Roy, played by Brian Cox, whose ambition, drive and adherence to the dogma of tough love has destroyed his adult offspring and locked them in a state of adolescence, leaving them pathetically dependent on the crumbs of his approval.
A friend of mine says Logan reminds her of her late grandfather who brooked no nonsense in the drive to see his children ‘get on’, as he put it, in life.
He never seemed to notice that even in middle age, his children cowered before him. Another mentioned is Donald Trump.
Logan reminds me of the tyrannical father in the novel Amongst Women, Bull McCabe in The Field and at different times Tony Soprano, who embodied the good and the bad of the archetype. He exists across class divides and cultures to terrorise those who fall within his orbit, and all in the ruthless cause of arranging the universe according to his wishes.
In these days of baby-wearing dads, paternity leave for fathers and the so-called snowflake generation, Logan Roy and his parade of permanently manipulated, deceived and wounded children seem like an anachronism.
Perhaps the power of Succession comes not just from its biting wit or brilliant performances, but from the idea that this could be the final gasp of despotic fathers and their casual cruelties – the last of a dying breed.