The last episode of Succession dropped a few weeks ago (don’t worry, I won’t spoil it for you). A few minutes before the very end, leading lady, Shiv Roy, shouts at her brother that she really loves him, but she cannot stomach him. This remark rather sums up the mixed feelings I have about the whole genre of television series.  

Make no mistake, I really did love every single episode of Succession. But I have often got about halfway through some random Scandi noir series, thinking: I’ve already watched 10 hours of this; how much longer do I have to sit through? How many more red herrings do they need to introduce, such as that shady-looking plumber with a conviction for shoplifting two decades ago, who happened to fix a toilet near the scene of the crime a few days before, but of course the poor dude is totally innocent? Just go ahead and reveal that it was the little girl’s frail old grandma who pulled the trigger! ..

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