The Surprising Subtlety of 'Industry'
Some of the best writing on TV right now makes everything clear while saying nothing.
I’ve seen HBO’s Industry described as a sort of “missing link” between the teen decadence of Euphoria1 and the middle-aged greed of Succession, which isn’t wrong. Industry sure has a lot of sex and drugs—like, a lot of sex and drugs; If you’re stunned to imagine that the 17-year olds of the world are regularly doing bumps and then having threesomes, you might be equally stunned to imagine that the people who manage the wealth of the world are regularly blitzed and often fucking in bathrooms2.
While I totally believe this to be true, it’s also a deception, in a way: If you think people are watching Industry in order to see pretty people get stoned and bone for our amusement, you’re, well, you’re not wrong—this is HBO, famed for basically requiring naked boobs in every show in order to justify the monthly fee—but you’re also not entirely right3.
A few weeks ago I wrote about the refreshing lack of exposition in The Bear, and we have a similar situation here. I don’t understand money—like, at all4. I’m the guy who can’t split a restaurant bill more than 2 ways without the assistance of a quantum computer, and I treat every venture into my checking account as a thrilling adventure5. And I think I might actually understand less about money after watching Industry. The jargon, maneuvering, and financial products bandied about are never explained, and just as in The Bear that’s terrific, and really helps sell the show6.
Something else that helps sell the show is the understated subtlety of its writing. Industry is a series that tells you very little and shows you a lot7, but it does so without hints or hand-holding and expects you to draw your own conclusions. Spoilers to follow!
Class Dismissed
Like any show set in any version of The United Kingdom, Industry is absolutely obsessed with class, race, and status8. It gives out some broad-stroke details to set the stage—for example, Yasmin (Marisa Abela) comes from a very rich and globe-trotting background, Harper (Myha'la Herrold) grew up in much more hardscrabble fashion (and is American, to boot), Gus (David Jonsson) went to Oxford and his family had very high expectations for him, Robert (Harry Lawtey) also went to Oxford but has a working-class background—but leaves much of these details to be observed and intuited9. Harper, for example, pins her hair up into a tight bun when she’s in the office, but lets it explode into its natural glory when off the clock—something other employees don’t need to worry over10. Yasmin, despite her comfort with money and the monied, her intelligence and education (she speaks several languages) flounders a lot, lacking a certain killer instinct and strategic ability, while Harper, who has none of Yasmin’s advantages, soars.
None of this is stated out loud, none of it is info-dumped at you. You either pick up on the fact that Yasmin’s kind of bad at her job and is maybe there solely because of her family connections or you don’t.
Harper is small in stature and is regularly infantalized by men around her, but again this is never made overt. Her boss, Eric Tao (Ken Leung) is an aggressive, callous sort who reacts to a wide range of things with what could best be described as quietly homicidal rage, yet he calls Harper “Harpischord” and and exhibits a gentleness with her that only exists elsewhere with his own children. And in Season Two when Harper is trying to bring superstar hedge fund manager Jessie Bloom (Jay Duplass) on as a client, a crucial moment happens when Bloom sees Harper, drunk as a skunk, being brought back to her hotel room by a male colleague. Bloom expresses concern and male protectiveness because Harper—who in reality has the thought processes of a sociopath and is probably the most dangerous character on the show11—looks like a little girl in trouble. This dynamic informs just about all of Harper’s relationships, but the show never makes the mistake of having a character comment on it directly, rubbing the audience’s nose in it just in case they weren’t paying attention12.
There’s Levels to It You and I Know
Another aspect of this world that Industry shows rather than tells is the hierarchy. Based on this show, I can only assume that financial firms use titles as a code we Normies will never understand, because it’s next to impossible to suss out an org chart based on the actual words after anyone’s names13. Power flows in ways beyond a simple managerial position, which makes sense—it’s all about money, so whoever has control over the most is gonna be in charge whatever that org chart says.
What the show does well is make it clear who has the power in any given situation without ever saying so. Eric is nominally Harper’s boss, but in Season 2 of the show he is clearly and unarguably never actually in charge, especially after she gains Bloom as a client. And when Eric makes a power move and flies to New York to try and get a younger man (Daniel "Danny" Van Deventer, a.k.a. DVD, played by Alex Alomar Akpobome) sent to London to spy on/manage him removed from his desk, he calls DVD to taunt him. But the audience knows that Van Deventer isn’t worried—has the true power—because he takes the time to chat with Harper in a casual, relaxed way before reacting to the call. When it turns out that DVD is the one in control of the situation the viewer isn’t surprised, because without telling us a thing we knew exactly what was going on14.
This becomes crystal clear when the clients are in the room. No matter how big the bonuses are, the folks working at Pierpoint are not wealthy when compared to the clients, who are the sort of folks who control enormous, mind-boggling wealth15. The viewer might be tempted to wonder at the money these folks make—right until a whale calls them up and makes them dance, makes sexual advances, casually orders them to locate a tutor for their kids. Again, without saying a word you know very clearly what the power structure of this show looks like.
Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go take a nap because watching these kids do all these drugs and have all this sex is kind of exhausting.
Next week: The Rings of Power miscalibrates the whole power thing.
My own high school experience was so vanilla compared to Euphoria I sometimes wonder if I’m being pranked. Did kids really do that many drugs in high school? AM I NOT AS COOL AS I THINK I AM? Don’t answer that.
Or not, when you consider who the wealthy people are in this world. They’re all fucking mutants, aren’t they?
Because I am a professional writer, I just weaponized this meme:
As far as I’m concerned, economists are just making it all up and laughing at us as we chase imaginary monies. In other words, my campaign platform involves a return to an economy based on interesting pebbles you find in your travels. Under this scheme I am a quadrillionaire.
I’m a writer, of course, which means that every time I sell a book to a publisher I somehow have less money in my accounts.
One reason I don’t mind being confused on The Bear is because I will likely never eat at any of the fancy restaurants Carmie cooked at. Similarly, I am calm in my confusion at Industry because I will never have money. I don’t need to understand!
Boobs, yes, but also other things. Notably: No dongs. We have a long way to go, as I could create a 360-degree 3D model of Myha'la Herrold’s body based on nude scenes she’s done in this show, but could not do the same for any of the men.
Unlike shows set in the USA, where we have moved past such things and simply despise each other generally, on principle.
One reason these approach works well if you take the time to have actual characters is because it mimics the real-life experience of meeting people: You make assumptions based on how they dress, speak, and behave, then slowly have those assumptions confirmed or exploded.
I am more thankful for my white male hair privilege than for anything else in my life. Being able to go full Boris Johnson and not be immediately shown the door is a fucking superpower.
Seriously, she’s a lizard person.
This is the sort of show about which people used to doing 4 other things (3 of which involve other screens) while watching TV often complain “nothing happens” because if it isn’t accompanied by an explosion it just won’t get their attention.
I have never been important enough to appear on an org chart, and I am proud of that. In my early 30s I once interviewed at a company and the hiring person said “well, you’re at a point in your career where you’ll have to start managing people” and I went home, drank a fifth of bourbon, and shaved my head in despair.
It’s a nice subversion: The show establishes Eric as a killer, a real shark in this world, so when he appears to go to the mattresses to defend his position the audience expects him to lay waste to his enemies. Instead, he’s instantly cut off at the knees and given a fuck-you promotion. That’s how you do twists: They don’t need to always be huge and shocking.
Anything higher than a thousand bucks might as well be imaginary as far as I am concerned. I simply can’t conceive of it.
If you were considering that as a working title for your memoirs, it's yours.
"Stoned and Boned" was the name of my 2nd LP.