By Cormac McCarthyPicture the scene. You’re at a party and everyone’s chatting about the hot new tv shows that they’re all addicted to. A woman, let’s call her Lisa, turns around and asks if you have seen the new show “Succession”. You politely say that you have not. It’s at that moment where everyone stops talking, the music shuts off and all eyes are fixed on you. She repeats the question, this time a bit frostier. You quietly repeat that you haven’t seen the show. It’s at that moment that they hunt you out of the house and demand you never speak to them again. And that’s it. You’re now a social outcast. And you know what, I wouldn’t disagree. That’s how good this series is. Already in it’s third season, Succession concerns itself with the Roy family, the family at the centre of a global media conglomerate as each member vies for power and control.The patriarch, Logan Roy, is about to pass over control of the firm to his second oldest son. However, at the last minute he relents and decides to stick around for a few more years. This leads to each member of the family scrambling to get a foothold in the company while still trying to maintain civility.The series delights in the family’s dysfunction. It is full to the brim with backstabbing schemes, shocking insults and twists and turns that keep you on the edge of your seat. It is as funny as it is thrilling, as it is a biting satire of the hellish corporate world. Every character is as awful as they seem, self destructive and manipulative. Yet, they are written with a certain level of pathos that you can’t but feel a certain level of sympathy for them. Each sibling tries desperately for the approval of their father Roy, but the harder they try, it ultimately ends in futility. It’s a tragic character arc that they go through, where each effort made to succeed only putting them further behind. It's the tension that is ever present in the show that keeps you coming back. Each episode and season build slowly but delicately to a thrilling climax. It is the relationship between Logan and his second son, Kendal, that allows this tension to shine. Each has their own shortcomings, Roy’s callousness and impatience, Kendal’s insecurity and naivety. The writer’s know exactly how to use this relationship, it being the main moral crux for both of them as the audience is desperate for some form of acquiescence but knowing that it will never come to fruition. The casually extreme wealth that the characters live in acts as a backdrop to the drama unfolding. The opulence is such that Georgia Pritchett, writer for the show, even mentioned in an interview how they require the help of wealth consultants in order to get an accurate description of how people with such wealth behave in the situations they are writing about. The characters have grown up in such an environment, so far removed from the regular society, that they don’t exactly react to things the way normal people do. It further punctuates the bizarre reality of these characters. The wealth acts as a barrier to the audience, another clever method of preventing the viewer from relating to the characters onscreen, regardless of how empathetic they may be. With a manageable thirty episodes, no scene is wasted, with each moment coming with the precise amount of care given to it. One particular example occurs in the opening episode where Logan Roy is celebrating his 80th birthday. The dinner that ensues is a perfect mix of antipathy and warmth, kicking off the series perfectly. I couldn’t recommend it more. What are you doing still reading this. Put the paper down now and go watch it and report back to me.