Industry & How To Nail Seasonal Progression
We’re living through an unprecedented time in TV at the moment – that much is clear to anyone whose favorite pastime is curling up on the couch and watching five episodes of television because they can’t pick a movie (me).
The advent of streaming radically changed the TV landscape, pushing shows away from the traditional episodic model of network/cable towards a more serialized, binge-ready format. There’s also been a huge churn factor, with streamers canceling shows that don’t immediately put up numbers, debuting limited series meant to be watched all in one sitting, and even wiping old shows out of existence to make room for new content.
This sea change has created a ripple effect: an increasing number of TV shows have been finding it difficult to sustain themselves past their first season. It’s never been easy – the term “sophomore slump,” referring to a show’s disappointing second season, has been around for decades – but these days, showrunners can’t expect a second or third season when they write the first, and it shows. The Bear has been slumping in quality since its first season, The Mandelorian faced an audience revolt by season three, Jessica Jones had a disappointing second season, Westworld never managed to figure out how to make subsequent seasons as interesting as its first… the list goes on.
With so many shows in our modern landscape struggling with seasonal progression, let’s look at one that’s been successfully shifting and growing with each new season, and is arguably the best it's ever been by the end of season three: Industry. (Beware: spoilers ahead!)
SEASON ONE: NEW TO THE WORKFORCE
The first season of Industry dropped on HBO in 2020 with little fanfare, but I was enthralled by it.
The show is a workplace drama centered around a new crop of freshly-graduated hires at Pierpoint & Co, a highly competitive, cut-throat investment bank in London. The pilot is exceptional – we’re introduced to our main characters, Harper, an American who lies about graduating college and whose ambition knows no bounds, Yasmin, who’s desperate to escape the shadow of her wealthy father, and Robert, who's driven to rise above his working-class background and achieve higher status. We’re also dropped into the cut-throat corporate world of Pierpont and financial trading, characterized by a strict hierarchy, a work-til-you-drop M.O., and a ruthless “greed is good” mentality (along with rampant sexism and drug use). The pilot ends with Hari, another newly hired grad, repeatedly abusing energy drinks and pills to stay awake and work all night at the office, until he suffers a heart attack and dies in a Pierpoint bathroom stall, in the dead of night, all alone. After he’s discovered, Pierpoint executives are horrified… and then work goes on, as it always does.
As a show, Industry does a lot of things right. It takes the “workplace” format, typically saved for half-hour sitcoms, and breathes new life into it for an hourlong offering. Instead of the workplace simply being a physical gathering space for characters, Industry brings the workplace inside its characters – for our heroes, work is their savior, work is the god of their lives.
Industry also sets itself up for success by centering around an interesting, repeatable idea that's inherently ripe with conflict (“work as savior”) and creating a story engine that can generate multiple seasons – how will our cast of characters deal with each new work crisis and juggle living their own lives on top of that?
SEASON TWO: YOUNG EXECUTIVES
Season two picks up with our characters after they survived the “Reduction in Force” ritual firing at the end of season one and earned full-time jobs at Pierpont. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.
Our main characters, having hustled for the same goal in season one, now take diverging paths. Harper begins sparring with her boss, Eric, and trying to sign a new billionaire client, Jesse Bloom. Yasmin begins bullying new grads and moving into the private wealth management arm of Pierpont under a new boss. Robert strikes up a relationship with Nicole Craig, a Pierpont client known for making sexual passes at young Pierpont staffers. The overarching season-long pressure cooker is kicked off by Bill Adler, a fearsome Pierpont boss, who tells our heroes that one Pierpont office will be going away: either London, or New York. Whoever is more successful will survive – a perfect encapsulation and heightening of the show’s central themes. Let the deal-making and back-stabbing begin.
Season two works so well because we get to watch our characters grow in new ways, we engage with new characters and conflicts through these new story paths, but the DNA of the show, “work as savior,” remains exactly the same.
SEASON THREE: OLD PROS
Season three kicks off in spectacular fashion, with Pierpont set to launch the IPO of green energy company Lumi, helmed by CEO Henry Muck, who may have fudged some of his company’s numbers. Harper, having been fired at the end of season two, has found a new job as an assistant at a hedge fund with investment money tied into Lumi. Yasmin’s father is missing and an embezzlement scandal at his company has been exposed, leaving Yasmin to deal with jilted investors, including Henry’s uncle and godfather. Robert is sent to work with Henry on behalf of Pierpoint. The instant Lumi goes public, all the power in the Pierpoint building cuts off – a blackout, and a beautifully apt metaphor.
Season three finds Industry even bigger and better than before, tackling a larger story with a wider sweep – the exploits of Lumi take us through the full hierarchy of the British financial world, from lowly grads at Pierpoint to secret king-makers in politics. Lumi’s failed IPO is a domino that sets off a chain of events that threaten the very life and solvency of Pierpont itself. We get to see our characters make huge choices – Harper goes home to New York, Yasmin embraces the aristocracy she’s been running from her whole life, and Robert becomes a Henry mini-me. We also deep-dive into characters who’ve been part of the fabric of Pierpoint for decades – like Eric, who loses his family because of his workaholism, and Rishi, an entrenched old-school trader who struggles with a gambling addiction (much like his relationship to his work itself).
While expanding and evolving in terms of story each season, Industry succeeds by always staying true to its north star – keeping one planted foot in the world of finance and following characters who love work endlessly, even though it can never love them back. Even the institution of Pierpoint nearly succumbs to the pressure, and Eric fights with everything he has to keep it from bankruptcy, only to be fired himself after they find a buyer. He tells his team: “Your desk is your house. So go home! Go to work!”
As someone who hasn’t always had the healthiest relationship with work, Industry makes me laugh, makes me cry, makes me think, and makes me feel seen. It’s probably my favorite show of the modern era. Industry has built upon itself every season, launched careers for its central cast, and has a story engine to support many more seasons to come – providing a shining example for how to create good television in the post-Peak TV streaming era.
Until season four comes out, you can find me impatiently waiting for it at my desk/house.