If any show were capable of holding up a mirror to society and reflecting the great pandemic corporate vibe shift underway, it would be HBO’s “Industry.” The hour-long dramedy returns from a nearly two-year hiatus, attributable largely to the pandemic it so acutely depicts on-screen, as sharp and incisive as ever. As the show picks up the thread of the upstart analysts at London’s prestigious investment bank Pierpoint &. Co, it effortlessly incorporates the seismic yet subtle shift in the lives of its characters. No buzzwords like “return to office” or “Great Resignation” familiar to white-collar workers are necessary to convey the tensions – they’re palpable in the very fabric of the new season.
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World events conspire nicely with the development of the show’s four key characters, who have all advanced from first- to third-year analysts between the seasons. The corporate conveyer belt from their university environments no longer has them on equal footing. With a little bit more experience and clout under their belt, they possess the will – and a modicum of the power – to chart their own destinies. This provides a natural inflection point for their trajectories to begin diverging anyways.
But as the second season of “Industry” progresses, it’s fascinating to observe how the show’s central figures break apart in radically different directions but for common reasons. Marisa Abela’s Yasmin decides to throw in the towel on rising independently within the meritocracy, opting instead to go into wealth management for her affluent family. David Johnson’s Gus flirts with fleeing finance altogether by exploring the revolving door between banking and government. Harry Lawtey’s Robert comes to grips with the fact that he’s a lesser intellect than some of his colleagues and must give himself over entirely to transactional relationship building to keep up the pace. And Myha’la Herrold’s Harper grows emboldened to create her own opportunities within and outside of Pierpoint, recognizing how little a behemoth institution cares about one little cog in its machine like her.
The overarching animus? A look inside the machinery of late-stage capitalism has already left them hopelessly jaded – and on an accelerated trajectory hastened by the pandemic. “It’s work, innit?” Robert flippantly observes in the season’s first episode, and the remark sums up the newfound nihilism of the characters. For these ambitious analysts who toiled away at their desks for an ungodly portion of their day, work was life in the first season. Now, work is work.
The new season’s most exciting wrinkle is Indy Lewis’ Venetia Berens, a determined first-year on the trading desk. Her unbowed optimism in the potential to make positive change within a broken system highlights just how far the quartet, particularly Yasmin and Robert, have fallen from their own lofty aspirations. Her strict adherence to an internal code of ethics only highlights how thoroughly the financial system imprints itself on those who wish to extract value from it.
“Industry” also continues its distinct exploration of sex and how the characters enact it in the second season. The show’s great discovery out of the gate was that these young traders flew in the face of their peers’ ironclad linkage between sexuality and identity. For them, it was just pure hedonism, meaningless other than the momentary thrill it provides. In season 2, sex has become little more than another tool in their business skillset, as utilitarian as a calculator or as invaluable as a Rolodex. No one experiences this shift more viscerally than Robert, who finds the dead end of relying on relationships is akin to becoming something of a corporate gigolo – figuratively and literally.
Among shows that take a rising generation as their subject, “Industry” remains the most clear-eyed and realistic about how they differ from their predecessors … and how they’ll ultimately fall in line with the established order. The emerging workforce bears the scars of their formative years full of sociocultural, economic, and ecological calamities. With no indication that institutions and authorities are coming to save them, they take impetuous individual action to secure their own future. This survival instinct is evident in Harper’s hunger to court the business of Jay Duplass’ mercurial billionaire Jesse Bloom, whose fortune ballooned during the pandemic outside of traditional channels. It’s but the latest development to disrupt Harper’s relationship with her boss Eric (Ken Leung), who fears and encourages his protégé in equal measure.
Bloom and his newfound hedge fund bonanza are easily the most disposable new element of the second season. How COVID made him rich pales in comparison to how it leaves the young traders morally bankrupt – and how they deal out of this desperation. Boundaries continue to blur between managers, mentees, clients, and contacts. Power dynamics rise and fall with the same volatility as the market itself. Where characters start is by no means a measure of where they will end.
A new axis of power emerges as a surprising dividing line: parentage. Yasmin and Gus cannot escape the long shadow of their wealthy parents and snap back into furthering an ancestral legacy. Harper and Robert, meanwhile, develop an unspoken bond around their orphaned status and share a sense of being adrift without that guidance in their lives. While the central power clash of the show is Yasmin and Harper, showrunners Mickey Down and Konrad Kay smartly recognize Robert’s role as the series’ emotional anchor. He’s the go-to cutaway shot as others bicker, and watching him quietly assess the scene is a surefire way to ground it. Harry Lawtey is the show’s undeniable star; watching the vulnerability peek through Robert’s cocksure façade encapsulates the entire balancing act upon which “Industry” is premised.
It’s excitingly unclear where this show will go in future seasons, given the ways in which its characters have grown apart. The way “Industry” masterfully mixes the classiness of “Succession” with the trashiness of “Euphoria” makes it the ideal HBO show – may they recognize and elevate it as such. [B+]
