SUCCESSION = MODERN FAMILY
They're not serious people. But only one of them is an actual clown.
Succession went out in a blaze of glory at last week’s Emmys, winning Outstanding Drama Series for the third time. My immediate family are all fans, as am I—if you count watching people for whom I feel at best a weird sort of grim admiration and at worst an outright loathing commit hate/sex/corporate crime among the definitions of ‘fan.’
The only problem with these accolades is that they miscategorize the show. In spite of everything I just mentioned, Succession is a comedy. People (read: YouTube commenters) have remarked on laughing more at it than at some traditional sitcoms, and it’s been compared to Arrested Development for its subject matter. But I could argue that it’s at least as similar to another mockumentary-style family series. Not only because its pop zooms are cut from the same cloth.
Modern Family, which ran for nearly triple the number of seasons Succession did (and collected its own Emmy trove), is a ‘comedy’ whose capacity to be a drama is always thinly veiled. Jay learns lessons about being a husband and father that Logan never does, but his past mistakes did permanent damage to Claire and Mitchell. His efforts to be better, thanks in part to Gloria’s influence, are palpable to both his adult children and his son by her, Joe. Dede, his first wife, also had a hand in giving Claire and Mitchell the emotional complications they struggle with; and her early behavior toward Gloria is incredibly destructive, although even they end up bonding. Unlike Caroline Collingwood, who revels in tormenting her children and reinforcing their unfitness to be a family (from which she does not exempt herself), Dede only wants to reclaim the sense of belonging that she feels has been taken from her, which Jay reminds her isn’t exactly accurate.
Meanwhile, the Cam-Mitchell pairing came under a lot of scrutiny over the years for the curious fact that they often don’t even seem to like each other. And Cam can be manipulative and controlling of Mitchell—from accusing him of cheating on him with choreography to actually faking a breakup. The best analogue I can find is Tom’s marriage to/castration of Greg (he’s more married to Greg than to Shiv, which admittedly is not a high bar). The deadpan attitude Lily develops is only natural to counterbalance her dads’ never-ending soap opera.
That said, Cam singing Schubert’s “Ave Maria” while Mitchell destroys the house over the pigeon is on a level with Kendall singing “Honesty.” And Cam’s delivery of the song (mispronouncing “tecum,” etc.) with Connor’s eulogy for Lester (thanks, Willa).
Now let’s talk business. Pritchett’s Closets, the empire Jay built and gradually steps back from, does more practical good than Waystar RoyCo ever could, in that a closet isn’t going to ‘elect’ a fascist leader or endanger the lives of theme park visitors. For all the mockery he endures (Mitchell: “The only thing you’ve ever built is a closet, i.e., a box of air”), his passion remains undiminished. And, diametrically opposed to Logan’s possessiveness, he actively draws his family in. Claire goes to work for him and ends up worthily leading the company in his stead—never a point of contention between the siblings as Mitchell already had a law career and Claire was looking to reenter the workforce after being a stay-at-home mom. Though I imagine gender politics were involved: see the running joke about Claire always being more of a son to Jay than Mitchell was. She is the eldest boy.
In fact, if anyone here has issues with the collision of career and family, it’s when they don’t want to follow in their forebears’ footsteps. Luke displays a talent for magic that understandably excites Phil, who would gladly have been a full-time magician if it paid the bills (and if Jay hadn’t done some meddling—see the later seasons). But Luke doesn’t share his dad’s love of magic, and he eventually executes a notoriously difficult trick to stake his independence. Lily, even younger, spends an episode subjecting Cam’s clown alter-ego Fizbo to some painfully punchy physical bits, later confessing to Mitchell that she thought she could get out of clowning if she did it badly. (Her clown name, Lizbo, wasn’t going to get her too far anyway.)
Curiously, no one in either family seems fully aware of how wealthy they are. Just because Logan watches the CCTV footage back every evening, Scotch in hand, and Jay never misses an opportunity to call out his kids leeching off of him, doesn’t mean they appreciate where all their money is going or the status it helps to maintain. (Jay’s response to Manny telling him Gloria is having her hair blown out: “That’s a thing? That I pay for?”) Oft-discussed in class theory is how the ‘middle class’ are much closer to being destitute than to joining the one percent. That doesn’t stop blindness to a certain level of affluence from setting in.
The absence of a meaningful next generation on Succession is telling. Kendall’s children, being the children of divorce, are ineligible to inherit the kingdom especially once Shiv becomes pregnant. Modern Family’s grandkids (plus Manny) loom large. While Claire frets over Haley and Phil dotes on Luke, Alex, the ultra-book-smart middle Dunphy child, is left to fend for herself in a way that probably puts her on a par with Connor Roy. Who, as we all know, was interested in politics from a very young age. (The difference being Alex would have a real shot at the presidency. And doesn’t buy any of her boyfriends.) When she goes to therapy after a breakdown on her sixteenth birthday, she starts to process the pressure she puts herself under—as does Claire, who really pays attention to Alex for the first time. It’s a moving scene, if also an indicator of the shocking neglect we’ve grown accustomed to being played for laughs.
There are, of course, notable differences. Modern Family gets a lot of jokes out of flashbacks, mostly to the recent past. Succession has no flashbacks at all, leaving us to piece together our sense of the family dynamic only from what we’re presented with in the moment. This is a major contributor to the drama, because the history of the family dynamic is almost nothing good.
And now it’s time to play Who Said It?
“Mom once told me I ate ice cream like a prostitute.”
“Well, not a retirement. Really more of a transition.”
“Thank you for being so vulnerable with me.” “I hate you.”
“We can’t have people golfing sober. They’ll realize it’s a waste of time.”
“The only difference between this and a home invasion is I get to shoot people in a home invasion.”
“Hey all y’all, what’s going down?” “My opinion of you.”
“I realize couples counseling should be back on the table.”
“And I just want to be accepted for who I am. A sexual maniac.”
Okay, that last one was from 30 Rock. The rest are Modern Family. But you get the idea. Credible. (And Greg’s “It’s not that lemony!” could have been said by Manny, or Joe, or even Gloria when she calls Claire’s lemon squares *very dry*.)
Couple of other notes: Phil is Kendall (cringey penchant for rapping) with a lot more self-confidence. Kendall could have won it all if he believed in himself half as much as Phil. Gloria and Marcia actually have quite a bit in common: they can be fierce, even ruthless in Marcia’s case, but it’s usually justified, and they’re very protective of their loved ones.
Everyone is highly imperfect, no one is completely irredeemable. Even Logan has an endearing moment (like, one). Essentially, these shows represent a family and business dynamic through two different lenses, one skewing lighter and the other darker. I’m not saying every family would benefit from the presence of a realtor/magician. But, if it is to be said, so it be—so it is.