Before ‘Succession,’ This Stylish TV Show Gave Us a Friendly Reminder To Eat the Rich

When ABC’s Dirty Sexy Money premiered in 2007, it arrived wrapped in gloss. The pitch was irresistible — a struggling lawyer inherits his late father’s job managing the affairs of Manhattan’s wealthiest family, only to discover that the privilege, power, and scandal he’s now tethered to might destroy him. That lawyer was Nick George (Peter Krause), and the family was the Darlings… a dynasty dripping with excess, entitlement, and barely disguised corruption.

On the surface, Dirty Sexy Money was a soap opera spectacle. Private jets, penthouse scandals, and charity galas gone wrong were standard fare. But re-watching it now, the show feels eerily ahead of its time. Its campy sheen barely disguises the sharpest of barbs: the wealth here isn’t just luxury, it’s protection, manipulation, and rot. In today’s era of Succession and The White Lotus, the Darlings feel less like a network drama gimmick and more like the first draft of television’s “eat the rich” obsession.

The Darlings and the Art of Weaponized Wealth in ‘Dirty Sexy Money’

Every member of the Darling family is a character study in how money twists behavior. Take Tripp Darling (Donald Sutherland), the patriarch, who runs everything from his family to the city and whatever is left in between. In turn, his children use their privilege like a second skin. Patrick (Peter Krause), the eldest son, attempts to maintain a political career while navigating an affair that could ruin him. Karen (Natalie Zea), the glamorous daughter who’s equally the smartest of the bunch, cycles through marriages like wardrobe changes. Then there’s Jeremy and Juliet (Seth Gabel and Samaire Armstrong), the youngest, who treat Manhattan like their playground, boldly crashing cars and careers.

What made the show biting wasn’t the antics themselves but the truth behind them. In essence, the Darlings never worried about the fallout because it hardly touched them. Money buys silence, loyalty, and even absolution. Every time a scandal should have destroyed them, it didn’t. Bottom line, Nick George’s job wasn’t to fix their problems — it was to bury them before they reached daylight. Did he enjoy it? Not at all; in fact, he found out he had inherited a ticking time bomb that some of the best fixers out there couldn’t handle. That depiction hit harder than audiences gave it credit for in 2007. Back then, “wealth porn” shows like Gossip Girl or The O.C. framed privilege as aspirational, a world of beautiful people and desirable problems, AKA rich people problems. However, Dirty Sexy Money leaned closer to satire, framing The Darlings as cautionary tales rather than role models. As such, the more they flaunted their wealth, the clearer it became that their riches insulated them from morality.

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Before ‘Succession’ Became a Global Hit, ‘Dirty Sexy Money’ Was the Original Sin of “Eat the Rich” TV

When people think of TV’s fixation on the wealthy behaving badly, Succession dominates the conversation and The White Lotus piles on satire. However, it’s safe to say that Dirty Sexy Money planted the seed almost two decades ago. It examined the way money corrodes accountability and leaves those with the most resources least tethered to reality. Where Succession is acid and Shakespearean, Dirty Sexy Money was glossy, campy, and unabashedly soapy. It’s that style that made it subversive. Viewers tuned in for glitz and melodrama, but the show quietly conveyed a message that wealth can erase consequences.

Though the two-season show ended in 2009, its DNA is everywhere. The Darling family’s antics paved the way for Gossip Girl’s Upper East Siders, for Succession’s Roys, and for The White Lotus’ elite. Today, “eat the rich” stories are sharp social commentary. In hindsight, it was prophetic. Revisiting it now, it feels sharper in the context of today’s television. When Nick George scrambles to keep the Darlings’ scandals out of headlines, it mirrors real dynasties shielding themselves with lawyers and PR. When Karen Darling shrugs off another “oopsie” with a glass of champagne in her hand, it suddenly looks less like camp and more like a headline. In short, Dirty Sexy Money is the patient X of the anti-wealth stories dominating today. It lacked prestige packaging, but the critique was there.

To relive actual “eat the rich” history onscreen, stream Dirty Sexy Money on ABC.com.