Industry Is the Best Show on TV, and it's better than Succession

As Industry's third season rolls on, I'm beginning to think that it is better than Succession.

Midway through the third episode of the third season of HBO show Industry, Rob — the junior trader tasked with being Pierpoint’s middle man for the potentially risky company Lumi — is in a sauna with a Pierpoint analyst. (Any fan of Challengers would acknowledge the compromising position that Rob finds himself in when he shows up at the sauna). With the pair chatting about the analysis on Lumi, Frank, the analyst’s name, is naked, touching his genitals in front of the almost-nude Rob. As the conversation goes, the hand movements on the genitals go back and forth like the smooth and business-like conversation the gentlemen are having with one another. Cam’ron would be disappointed in this, but the casual sexuality in this scene turned heads on Sunday night on the internet and in the whispering, practically secret society that Industry fandom is. Rob’s already a character with such charge to him — he was groomed by a serial assaulter, has had sex with two Pierpoint traders, and has serious family issues — and yesterday, felt like Ahab screaming at Stubb on the deck: it was the beginning of something more ominous.

Such scenes have made Industry the new Sunday night show that has Twitter chatting endlessly. HBO Max moved it to the Sunday night slot after two seasons of it being overlooked and under-promoted. One, because of the pandemic, and secondly, because the multitude of other HBO shows that were placed ahead of it. By very heedful commands, Industry is now the most lavish art on prestige television, a medium that was desperate for something imaginative after The Bear’s latest season flopped. (I should get no arguments here. That season was lost in the sauce). The show might remind you of. Euphoria, for its look at young adults frustratingly growing into their own with sex and drugs as an unfortunate sidekick to growth, but especially, Succession, for the way it views the hunger for money and fame in the financial sector as an infinite road to hell, a way to continue to suffer from life’s vices.  

I began watching Industry after Succession ended in 2023, when there was a clear void in the kind of filthy rich television that HBO has always excelled in. Like Succession, the group is a family, despite the intense dysfunction that clouds the characters throughout the show. However, unlike Succession, the actors were younger, less established than the professional and clinical theater actors that populate Jesse Armstrong’s show. Industry, created by former finance brothers Konrad Kay and Mickey Down, is filled with sexy young actors, a Black woman main character — a Don Draper-like human cipher, and a polyglot who is the daughter of a publishing magnate. Industry is defined by its diversity. You get to see the reversing of hollow identity politics, at times, especially in the first season, when an older female executive tries to get Harper Stern, played by an excellent Myha’la, to change the offensively masculine culture at Pierpoint. Harper is a Black woman who takes on Eric, an Asian mentor, who — in a new screen grab for the ages, tells Rob to scream to himself “I am a man, and I’m relentless” — treats her like a surrogate daughter, constantly pushing her and watching out for her. (There’s something compelling about the way Pierpoint turns people into examples of the white masculine bro. You’re effectively colorless in many ways in the offices of the behemoth). They both bond over being people of color who come from humble backgrounds, until a decision at the end of season two effectively ends their work partnership. It’s devastating to watch. 

While binging the two seasons, the sex, the drugs, and the youthfulness of the acting was more dynamic and esoteric than the usual coldness that British creator Jesse Armstrong does in Succession. Sure, they are different shows — Succession owes a bunch to King Lear and Peep Show while Industry can owe more to movies  — but they were both shows that came out of nowhere to become phenomenons. They’re both shows that rely on setting, either the trading floor in the giant Pierpoint building or the country that Yasmin and Harper fly to in the second season. Succession is a charming show that has created stars out of Jeremy Strong and Kieran Culkin. Their run shouldn’t be forgotten — for all of the fixation of the balance between comedy and tragedy, the show has some of the most nerve-wracking and saddest scenes the small screen has seen since the millennium — and side characters like Gerri and Stewy became as beloved as Shiv, Roman, and Kendall but I began to fall out of love with the show in the fourth season. The rinse and repeat plot lines were one reason, but the true reason is the lack of sex, or meaningful relationships, on the show. Roman and Gerri’s flirtations have a wall in between them, whether it being a door in the Hamptons or a cellphone. (Compare that to the relationship between Nicole Craig and Rob on Industry, which is sexy, abusive, original, and funny all together). Logan dates a young assistant and they never show a flicker of sex, kissing, or an under the table handjob. Kendall, a supposed womanizer, almost never has scenes that let his sweaty passion with women shine. It’s a show about being so rich that you forget to be sexy in a world where the power suit is a steel armor, and not something to take off when you get home. More than that, the actors in Industry are hotter and better. There’s a look, a look of wounded fearlessness, that Harper Stern (Myha’la) gives Eric (Ken Leung) in the third episode of season three that sets a hole through the television screen. Leung’s Eric Tao, a man struggling with his age, white-washed masculinity and failure as an executive, is a character for the ages, better than Jeremy Strong’s nervous ticks. There isn’t a single moment on the show better than watching him come into the office hungover while his kids are on the trading floor waiting for him. (“My wife is punishing me, Sweetpea”, says Eric). Marisa Abela as Yasmin Kara-Hanani, a junior trader, isn’t just hot while smoking a bogey; she’s increasingly becoming better at portraying power dynamics in the workplace while relieving some gnarly trauma possibly given to her by her canceled father. This is not counting Sagar Radia as Rishi, who is set to be given an entire episode — Uncut Gemsian — dedicated to his crash out. 

Succession had a compelling and unforgettably charming run. Oh, what a show about family bonds, secrets, history: It truly captured the essence of the nepotism baby spirit, the relentless drive of the interloper, and the weight of your parent’s broken promises. Its craft is still great — perhaps no show other than Breaking Bad did cinematography better. However, one might wonder if it will age poorly: the Broadway theater culture that surrounds the show, the fan service in the finale when the kids are making a meal for Kendall, and inherent and bland whiteness of the cast proved to be an example of the low bar that television stands on. This is not the golden age; television is a false medium. The only recourse for television is shows like Industry — the sexiness, the drugs, and its view of identity politics providing the fodder for our Sunday night memories. In the Industry era, Succession might become culturally dormant.