Industry Season 4: When Growth Leads to a Narrative Collapse
The acclaimed HBO and BBC drama Industry, which delves into the cutthroat realm of London finance, has always thrived on themes of ambition and expansion. However, its fourth season represents a stark departure, embracing an overwhelming surge of excess that ultimately undermines its core strengths. This latest installment, brimming with heightened sexuality, relentless nastiness, and pervasive nihilism, marks a significant creative misstep for a series once celebrated for its nuanced portrayal of corporate brutality.
The Evolution from Underrated Gem to Overblown Spectacle
Originally, Industry captivated audiences with its gritty, verité-style depiction of recent graduates navigating a fictional investment bank's ruthless training program. Co-creators Konrad Kay and Mickey Down, both former financiers, infused the show with an authentic soundscape of financial jargon and a sharp critique of millennial work culture. Yet, the third season boldly dismantled this foundation by shuttering the central bank, Pierpoint, and shifting focus away from its ensemble of striving junior employees.
This narrative gamble has culminated in a fourth season that feels unmoored and excessively grandiose. New characters, such as Kit Harington's entitled aristocrat Sir Henry Muck, have been elevated to series regulars, inverting the show's signature bottom-up perspective. Meanwhile, alums from major series like Mad Men and Stranger Things join the cast, further diluting the intimate dynamics that once defined the drama.
A Descent into Groundless Excess and Provocation
Season four unfolds as a fever dream of wealth, technocratic bluster, and chaotic power plays. Protagonists Harper Stern and Yasmin Kara-Hanani, now entrenched in elite circles, spar with a convoluted array of antagonists, including vague Russian threats. While sex, drugs, and power games have always been integral to Industry, this season's depictions often feel self-satisfied and shock-driven, lacking the titillating surprise of earlier episodes.
For instance, a mid-season threesome involving Yasmin, Henry, and another character merely stuns without adding narrative depth. The show's meticulous stakes, once rooted in the trading floor's baroque conflicts, are now subordinate to a pervasive vibe of depraved chaos and impending doom. Watching becomes an exhausting, albeit stimulating, experience that mirrors the tumultuous feel of contemporary life.
Enduring Strengths Amidst the Sprawl
Despite these flaws, remnants of the original series shine through. The complex frenmity between Harper and Yasmin remains a highlight, as does the thorny, platonic bond between Harper and her mentor Eric Tao. Moments of sublime stress, such as Eric expressing filial pride while professionally severing ties, still pierce through the noise, offering glimpses of the show's former brilliance.
Moreover, Industry has never been more popular, with the fourth season averaging 1.7 million viewers per episode and securing a fifth and final season. Audiences have embraced its narrative of elite amorality and its meta-story of ambition, positioning it as a potential successor to HBO's Succession. This comparison feels apt: if Succession mirrored the toxic cartoon era of the first Trump presidency, Industry reflects the darker, more chaotic sequel, with a pitch-black view of power and self-interest that feels eerily timely.
The Cost of Ambition and Unruly Expansion
In the penultimate episode, a poignant scene returns Harper and Yasmin to a bar, reminiscing on their journey from program evaluations to international scandal. Yasmin's wistful question, "How the fuck did we get here?" echoes the sentiments of longtime fans who miss the contained, high-stakes drama of earlier seasons. While Industry continues to entertain and provoke, its fourth season serves as a cautionary tale: in television, as in finance, bigger isn't always better, and unchecked growth can lead to a hollow core.
