“We are bullshit. You are bullshit. You’re fucking bullshit, man, I’m fucking bullshit. She’s bullshit. It’s all fucking nothing, man. I’m telling you this because I—I know it, okay? We’re nothing.” Succession covers the dynamic and story between Logan Roy and his 4 children as they metaphorically and literally fight to the death to usurp the company he created that, of course, he never actually intended to give to them—in spite of promises and deals and the twisted form of love that he does have, harbor, and weaponize against them again and again. And in this world that Logan has created, abuse is little more than just another form of love, and vice versa. It’s not a matter of how close the Roy siblings are—these kids playing pretend while their father slots their game pieces around—to breaking free of the cycle of abuse and manipulation that will kill them, it’s more of a matter of they just don’t want to. It’s all they know—they love the proximity to power but never power itself, they love the boot that kicks them, they love being a cog in the machine—and it’s all that they can remember from the put together pages of their past. It would take real, genuine change to recognize the cycle, recollect the past, and escape, and this show adopts the more sad, but realistic idea that very few people are capable of it. Maybe the Roy siblings have it in them to stop being Logan’s beaten dogs. But maybe they see what they are and just don’t care.