overnights

Succession Recap: First They Came for the PJs and I Said Nothing

Succession

Retired Janitors of Idaho
Season 3 Episode 5
Editor’s Rating 4 stars

Succession

Retired Janitors of Idaho
Season 3 Episode 5
Editor’s Rating 4 stars
Photo: Macall Polay/HBO Max

People who do not know what they’re doing have to pretend until they do. They have to fake it ’til they make it. All four of the Roy siblings have no idea what they’re doing, and the learning curve to get to a place of real knowledge and corporate temperament is too steep for them to ever climb. Executives like Gerri, Karl, and Frank have put in 30 years at Waystar and presumably banked some fancy degrees and business experience before that. They also know every suction cup on this multitentacled organism and have figured out how to work with Logan — or at least how to survive working with Logan. Even a turncoat like Frank is determined too valuable to lose, so long as any future betrayals are suppressed by a watchful eye and plenty of ritual humiliation.

One of the mysteries of Succession is understanding what, exactly, Logan wants for his children’s futures, but at present, he wants them in positions where they cannot damage the company. That’s why, in tonight’s nerve-jangling episode, he seems amenable to Connor’s offer to join the company. To keep him from taking “a big black light to our semen-stained family scrapbook,” Logan nods at the proposal to put Connor in charge of European cable, because it doesn’t seem like a place where his decisions can torpedo Waystar. Shiv has a nominal position that she tries to make real while her dad is incapacitated, but she mostly pretends to be important, like being the first to tell him, ahead of Gerri, that a deal has been negotiated with Sandy and Stewy. Meanwhile, Gerri is more Roman’s handler than mentor, and Kendall is out there making moves in the ether, playing the role of hip CEO-to-be by saying “hashtag resistance” out loud.

“Retired Janitors of Idaho” is about the annual shareholders meeting that will decide whether the Roys will survive Sandy and Stewy’s attempted takeover of Waystar, and the last thing that either side wants to do is hand their fate over to the titular retired janitors of Idaho. Neither party seems certain of how such a close vote will break, but each has invested about $50 million in the fight and they don’t want to come away with nothing. Behind the scenes, Logan hopes ATN’s attacks on the president’s mental faculties will pressure him to get the Department of Justice to ease off on its investigation — if word spreads that the DOJ isn’t the threat it’s perceived to be, it could be enough to bring back spooked shareholders. Sandy and Stewy want to settle, but some of their conditions — or, really, Sandy’s conditions — seem designed to humble the Roys by taking away private-jet access (“the PJs?!” Roman whines incredulously) and eliminate the possibility of Kendall, Shiv, Roman, and Connor from ever running the company.

On the other side of the deal, Sandy’s daughter Sandi (Hope Davis) listens to her impaired father carefully, like whispers from the oracle, and doesn’t seem inclined to freelance (“I just do what my dad tells me, like you guys”). Shiv brags that she has Logan’s authorization for a deal, making her seem like the most important negotiator on the team. But the Roy children are never aware of how easily others in a room size them up, perhaps because it is company policy to keep them mollified. (Or if they’re Kendall, they have sycophants on the payroll. Or if they’re Connor, the sort of mercenary political consultants who would throw in with Howard Schultz or Mike Bloomberg.) And so the kids act like big shots, right down to Shiv and Kendall mimicking their father’s vocal tic of adding “yeah?” to the end of sentences that aren’t usually questions.

Logan’s health creates an opening for his children to make some mischief. With negotiations with Sandy and Stewy’s team having fallen apart, he comes into the day plotting a victory on the floor, some combination of good news from DOJ and a rousing speech to get shareholders back onboard. But he ignores the medication his assistant leaves with him, which leads to his urinary tract infection sending him on multiple trips to the bathroom with Tom as his (literal) handler — “You don’t need me to hold the scepter?” — and a dramatic deterioration of his mental state. The last seemingly coherent words from the mad King Lear is a sour “fuck ’em” to the latest deal proposed by Stewy and Sandy … but does the old man truly intend to gamble with the company’s fate so recklessly, or has he temporarily lost his mind? When Roman learns the “memory-gate” presidential scandal drummed up by ATN has backfired horribly and that Logan definitely cannot make the speech, it creates enough wriggle room for the Roy children, Shiv in particular, to make decisions they have to know their father would reject. When he says “fuck ’em,” he means it.

As Shiv angles for additional board seats for her and Sandi as a deal sweetener that will make good on her father’s empty promises to give her actual power, Kendall is doing what he’s done since the moment the third season started — creating chaos that he seems to believe, through some magical leap of logic, will put him on top of the company. Sure, he’s hustling to keep family control of the company, but his next step is … a big question mark. When it comes to a possible settlement, he and his siblings are on the same page, but Kendall’s backend negotiations with Stewy, prompted by Frank, weaken Logan’s position and his speech at the end of the shareholder’s meeting is an exquisitely shameless attempt to put himself back in the center of the conversation. (He pitifully accepts “the Sermon on the Marriott” as a compliment.) In the end, his father blocks his number and leaves him alone to sulk in a ratty “Customer Friendly Office” that feels more like an existential dungeon.

While everyone celebrates the deal with Champagne, Logan grimly plots how his “fuck ’em” position can be salvaged, which is a conversation for grown-ups, not one for his kids. “I’m trying to talk to Gerri about something important,” he says coldly to Shiv, slapping away a Champagne flute. “Stop buzzing in my fucking ear.” Important matters cannot be decided by fake-it-’til-you-make-it types that will never actually make it. Shiv is badly hurt by it. But she will continue to allow herself to be strung along.

Sad Sack Wasp Traps

• Another wonderful Greg episode, with the big guy absorbing the fallout for throwing in with the Waystar defense group in defiance of Kendall, who threatens to throw him to the DOJ wolves (“They don’t want to send bottom-feeders to prison. They’ve probably just fuck you and chuck you to get to the red meat”) and his grandfather, who haughtily announces that his fortune is going to Greenpeace. (“I’m giving all my money to Greenpeace.” “Even my part?” “That was the first part.”)

• Add the proper care and feeding of a pet to the long list of things Kendall cannot manage. (“Let the rabbit have some bagel. Those rules are for fuckheads who are gonna go to Tampa and leave a rabbit with a Big Gulp and a dozen cinnamon raisin.”)

• Ewan Roy, “the best darn grandpa out there,” bitterly scolds Greg for throwing in with the “crapulous shills” at Waystar. As Greg pinballs around the Roy family, trying to find a stable and permanent and lucrative place for himself, it’s probably worth remembering that grandpa is right about crapulous shills and that Greg’s squishiness extends to his morality.

• Tom keeping track of Shiv’s cycle in his iCal is so perfectly, psychotically in character. “I’ve got like six more ovulation windows until all sex is prison sex,” he says.

Succession Recap: First They Came for the PJs