You’ll struggle to encounter a more pathetic sight on TV this year than Connor Roy, freshly jilted on the eve of his wedding, begging his siblings to do karaoke with him. On second thought, strike that. The most pitiful moment is when Kendall, Shiv and Roman begrudgingly agree to go, and he actually starts singing.
Poor, rich old Connor. Pathologically deluded to the level that he believes he’s really in with a shot of being POTUS and that his would-be wife Willa is actually with him for his charm, wit and sophistication; it all comes crashing down in episode two when she sprint out of the rehearsal dinner in a panic. Unnervingly, he begins to track her movements via an iPhone app – Connor: "I just think it's a factory setting"; Shiv: "Its not" – but she’s a goner.
Only one thing for it: karaoke! Is this what he thinks the normies do in times of personal crisis? Because he’d be absolutely right. The cathartic power of screaming Zombie by The Cranberries at a time of escalating emotional chaos is unrivalled. But, just as the robot Roys try to assimilate into a “real” bar, “with chicks and guys who work with their hands, and grease, and sweat from their hands and blood in their hair”, this singing session (in a real-life New York karaoke bar) is woefully misguided. What's more, his pleading contains one of the sadder lines in the series: "I would like to sing one fucking song at karaoke, because I've seen it in the movies and nobody ever wants to go."
Sadly, we’re not privy to whether the other Roys actually pick up the microphone and start crooning at each other (we'll take a wild guess at... no). Come on you cowards, you’ve cut Connor out of your gang-of-three New Media moves, the least you can do to cheer up your heartbroken older half-brother with a little sing-song. Kendall, butcher an NWA track! Quick, before he starts chasing Willa's roaming dot around in a taxi.
But from what we can see, all three new-gen Roys refuse to get vocal, leaving a solitary Connor to perform the world’s most depressing set ever. Everyone knows you go for sad bangers, not sad ballads at karaoke, so the sad-sack aborted-wedding eve sesh ends up consisting of him crooning Leonard Cohen’s Famous Blue Raincoat:
So why did Connor select this particular tune? It’s a song about betrayal, the betrayed, and… being depressed. Connor’s convinced that Willa’s left him for another man, or has jumped off a bridge, letting his fantastical delusions run away with him, rather than face the cold, hard truth about their relationship. As Cohen told BBC Radio 1 back in 1994 about the song: “I always felt that there was an invisible male seducing the woman I was with, now whether this one was incarnate or merely imaginary I don't remember.” DJ, please skip.
In fact, the only thing sadder than Connor’s lacklustre performance is when Daddy Logan turns up. No, he’s not about snatch the mic away and belt out a flawless Meatloaf number; instead, for the first time in his life, he wants to talk about his feelings. At least Connor had one thing right: that neon-hued confessional booth has the power to begin healing even the hardest of hearts.
Succession continues weekly on Sky Atlantic and NOW TV.
