On INDUSTRY, ambition is the drug you just can’t quit
With Season 2, I finally learnt the limits of my (fictional) ambition
Miraculously, this article has no plot spoilers for HBO/BBC’s INDUSTRY, but it is still best enjoyed(?) if you’ve seen both seasons of INDUSTRY, as well as Damien Chazelle’s WHIPLASH and Season 1 of Hulu’s THE BEAR.
“Is it worth it?” If one was to distill Industry Season 2 into a thesis statement, beyond the financial jargon, sex, drug use, and familial trauma, it would be this.
Okay, a couple of caveats before you continue reading (because what is more reassuring than when a writer puts out caveats at the start of his article):
- I, more often than not, empathise with blindly ambitious (fictional) people because I want to believe that in their positions, I would make the same sacrifices. I am not as ambitious as these people (read: I am very lazy) but I do have goals, some of which are, rather annoyingly, quite lofty and I tend to believe that I would willingly sacrifice most things to achieve these goals.
- As I often do, I have already posed a question in the first line of this article. However, if you’re expecting to find an answer at the end — a “big and fucking red” declaration, to paraphrase Eric Tao — I apologise in advance.
Oh, one final thing, just in case it doesn’t come across, nothing I say here relates to ‘ambitious’ characters like Leo DiCaprio’s Jordan Belfort (The Wolf of Wall Street) or Jesse Eisenberg’s Marc Zuckerberg (The Social Network). I have no article to write about that kind of ambition.
I find that distinction important because well, Jordan Belfort was a criminal, but more importantly, I don’t believe the ambitions of Harper (Myha’la Herrold), Yasmin (Marisa Abela) & Robert (Harry Lawtey) have anything to do with money. Sure, the money is great but considering we never really see them enjoying it (bar Yasmin, for whom spending money is more of a duty than an enjoyment) I’ll argue that it isn’t their driving force.
In Industry’s season two finale, a character describes a deal that broke this writer’s brain as a “reputation-changing commission”. Not “life-changing”, not “tax bracket altering” but rather “this commission gets your name out there; people will know who you are.”
To put it succinctly, Yasmin wants to make something of herself independent of her father’s name. “I want to be able to explain myself, and have people be receptive to my ideas”, she says in her first scene in the entire show. Robert, who studied Geography for no particular reason other than it being the easiest path to an Oxford degree (“Geography had the least amount of applicants the year before. It’s a marginal game about marginal gains”), just wants to be good at anything and maybe finally make his mum — or whichever mother figure is in his life — proud.
Then there is Harper Stern, who through a special cocktail of parental abuse, sibling abandonment, and an ever-growing chip on her shoulder has developed the most unchecked ambition out of all the characters. “I think this is the closest thing to a meritocracy there is and I only ever want to be judged on the strength of my abilities”, she says in that opening sequence to Season 1, “and paid for it” her future boss, Eric, immediately adds, to which she simply replies “I guess”. For her, the money, while an enticing and welcomed change of pace to her childhood, is basically an afterthought, what she really craves is recognition; she wants to be validated and rewarded for her talents and ambition.
Let’s talk about Harper.
Over the course of the season, her co-leads, Yasmin, Robert & Gus (David Jonsson) take steps to dump/outgrow/transcend their ambition with varying levels of success while Harper remains laser focused. She’s a maverick who moves through London’s financial institutions with an innate and very obvious genius and like most geniuses, she feels an almost crushing burden to live up to her ability. What may seem like progress to most, is a “non-starter” for her.
Week after week, I kept questioning why I was still on board the Harper train, and with each new line crossed, I found it more difficult to answer. Yes, I often supported ambitious characters, but never bankers. Not since Rebecca Hall in The Town had I actually been on the side of the banker. Then, like the immaculate piece of storytelling it was, the majestic second season of INDUSTRY slowly unraveled and showed me why I was so deep in the Harper pocket and which of my own predilections it was so expertly preying on. Here’s the thing, Harper is a creative (genius) and I always root for the creative (oftentimes against my better judgment).
“Is she (Harper) good or does she always have her foot on the accelerator? You know, covet something, get that, covet something else, maybe get that and then…die”- Robert to Yasmin in Season 2, Episode 3.
Now, I might have just lost you or perhaps you rolled your eyes so hard that you fell off your chair, but if you’re still here, give me a moment. It may be my biases (it is), but to me, Harper’s genius is plainly a creative rather than an academic one. When I watch Harper’s riveting trading floor scenes, expertly written and staged by (series co-creators) Mickey Down & Konrad Kay and their creative team, I don’t see anyone from The Big Short or Margin Call, instead, I feel like I’m watching Andrew Neiman (Miles Teller) on stage in Whiplash or Carmy (Jeremy Allen White) in the kitchen in The Bear. I see a prodigious talent imbued with the confidence of knowledge. I see Harper (and indeed Myha’la) co-ordinating the traders, clients, and FX desk across the floor with a control well beyond her young age. Harper moves through these scenes, which are often laced with equal parts anxiety, frayed nerves, and whatever else is on tap for the day (a hangover, betrayal, criminal activity), with an authority that she knows exactly what needs to be done and how to achieve it, always giving off the impression that she’s two steps ahead of everyone else (even when she isn’t).
She isn’t remembering what to do, she always knew it.
This is all second nature to her. She glistens with the effortless shine of natural talent and is motivated by the desire to do all it takes to not let that talent go to waste — which may or may not include several backstabs.
This is where my bias kicks in. A naturally creative person, performing at a high level, pushing themselves to perform at an even higher level, while showcasing, and being recognised for, their skill, desire, and ‘love of the game’? How can I not stan?
I found myself backing her even as the risks became more brazen and reckless. And this made sense, because, you know what, I backed Andrew through every scene in Whiplash. When he breaks up with his perfectly fine girlfriend (in what is my 2nd all-time two-hander breakup scene, only after the opening scene in The Social Network) I didn’t agree with him, I thought he was rude and condescending but you know what? I backed him. Should he have risked going back to get the drumsticks? Maybe not but it’s the sacrifice he had to make. Carmy trying to make ‘The Beef’ into a reputable institution despite an avalanche of hindrances? Incredibly stupid but he is an artist and he needs to be able to drive through every barrier in his way and live up to his talent.
Yes, my recognition of Harper as a creative binds me to her and propels my support of her, but in truth, we all root for these characters for the same reasons, only in different packaging. We relish seeing people cash in on a talent or skill; we want the smartest person in the room to actually be recognised as the smartest person in the room, especially by their patronising superiors. We want to root for the underdog, the outsider; this is why we watch these stories. When this outsider is actually competent, then it makes the support a no-brainer. Which takes me back to the earlier cited Robert quote to Yasmin.
“Is she good or does she always have her foot on the accelerator?”
Is this not the blurred line between the creative genius’ “determination” and everyone else’s “recklessness”? Was Andrew actually good or did he constantly “have his foot on the accelerator”, practicing till his hands bled? They are fueled by a desire, a drive to make something of a talent they possess, pushing themselves beyond what is, in most cases, reasonable because they feel like the true reward can only come after they’ve crossed that threshold. That’s why Harper is willing to cross the line time after time because she believes that the reward will match her sacrifice and no, not the monetary commission, that’s for purses and expensive dinners, the reward she’s actually chasing cannot be quantified. She knows she’s good so she has to get to a spot that reflects this. Sadly, what she doesn’t know and what most viewers know is that this is not a static spot, she’s chasing a moving target. But like Andrew and Carmy, I continue to back her, because I want to believe that I would be willing to make similar sacrifices in pursuit of that reward.
Which made it all the more intriguing when I found myself, towards the end of the season, and especially during the riveting finale, not…stanning.
I have managed to avoid spoilers so far, so I won’t start now.
Something my co-host and I frequently discussed while covering Season 2 of Industry on the podcast, was how, despite the allure and trappings of wealth and success the show beautifully presented, neither of us felt enticed to be a part of this world. To us, it just wasn’t worth it. It became noteworthy to ponder this side by side with my reducing support for Harper and her actions. Why was I considering getting off the train, when I had stayed on for other characters making similar (or worse) personal sacrifices? Was there a racial component, I doubt it. Was it a gendered issue? Maybe?
But then it hit me and to my profound disappointment, the answer was unfortunately simple and painfully basic! Over the course of the season, Harper’s actions had gone beyond self-sacrifice, she was now offering other people at the altar of her ambition. (One could argue that she did this in Season 1, but she had a lot less (real) agency in that transaction).
Industry, and its creators, don’t judge their characters and as a podcaster, I try not to, or at least I afford them a benefit of the doubt, but as a viewer, it is almost impossible to not pass judgment on Harper’s actions towards the end of the second season, most especially in the finale. When the sacrifices for one’s ambition go beyond the personal to include other unwilling participants, I can no longer stand and proudly wave my (Harper) flag. This was my limit. It is disappointing that my line is something so basic but alas, I’m a simple man.
Additionally, in thinking about this piece, I remembered that a turning point for Carmy comes in The Bear’s truly incredible penultimate episode, where his own neuroses and actions go beyond him and directly affect the safety and mental health of his co-workers. It is at that moment that we’re meant to take a step back and maybe re-assess our support for the character (more on that in a future podcast episode). My answer, not surprisingly, had been in front of me all along.
“Is it worth it?”
The creative geniuses I empathised with and cheered on pursued their goals through various degrees of self-sacrifice (and self-sabotage) and this I could stand for because I want(ed) to believe that you have to be willing to give your all for certain dreams. Whether that’s entirely healthy, well, I’ll have to outsource that to my therapist. However, when other people become involved, especially against their will, the whole pursuit begins to feel more atavistic than in aid of self-fulfillment.
Of course, there are some that would argue that Harper’s actions were very much worth it but I remain comforted by the fact that Harper herself expressed relief at the backfiring of one of the cogs in her plan. That wasn’t worth it.
Maybe none of it ever was?
It would be remiss of me to not mention that with this season, Industry firmly plants Harper in that illustrious pantheon of late ’00s white, male antiheroes. Let’s just say Industry shares more than one similarity with Mad Men and considering the last five minutes of the season finale, I expect that I’ll be back on the Harper train soon enough, even if it’s incognito, behind a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap, cosplaying as Kendall Roy.
All episodes of INDUSTRY are currently on HBO Max and BBC iPlayer
You can listen to our podcast episode with the show’s creators, Mickey Down & Konrad Kay here
And you can listen to all our episodes recapping the season wherever you get your podcasts.
You can watch Season 1 of THE BEAR on Hulu and Disney Plus
If you haven’t already, you can watch WHIPLASH on Netflix
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