“There’s nothing good on TV these days.” This is something every cinephile or TV lover has complained about at least once or twice in the last decade or so. And it’s usually for the same reasons: no real bite, fewer characters that feel like actual human beings, and plenty of stories that treat us like we’re dumb. Unfortunately, it’s become easy to consistently scroll past TV shows that literally check all those boxes because there are no dragons or billionaire memes to tweet about.
That’s exactly what went down with HBO’s Industry, with everyone too busy writing Succession think-pieces to notice it sneaking in the back door. Sure, it’s about finance kids in London, which, on the surface, sounds really boring. But at its core, it’s more than that. It’s about what ambition looks like in today’s world. We’re talking the midnight grinds, the panic sweats, and letting your job consume you because the alternative (being nobody) is somehow worse. And for some reason, we’re still acting like it’s some underground piece no one’s heard of.
‘Industry’ Is Not About Billionaires, It’s About the Kids Trying To Become Them
There’s a significant difference between Industry and other prestige TV shows like Succession. Shows like the latter show you the view from posh offices and luxury yachts, but Industry throws you straight into the bullpen with a bunch of terrified 22-year-olds who smell like burnt coffee and bad decisions. In fact, from the get-go, you immediately pick up on the fact that the characters aren’t on vacation. Season 1’s layoffs (the dreaded Reduction In Force or RIF scenes) are so tense you’ll forget to breathe.
We follow Harper Stern, played by Myha’la, who walks into this world on shaky ground. We’re talking about the fact that she had no family connections, no viable backup plan, and the biggie: she fabricated part of her transcript. So from day one, she’s desperate, and that desperate energy never leaves her. By Season 3, she’s basically turned into a real great white shark, feeding on everyone around her, including her only friend Yasmin (Marisa Abela), just to get ahead. It’s ugly to watch, but you just can’t help it.
The minds behind the show, Mickey Down and Konrad Ray, actually used to live in this world in real life. And remarkably, they got messages from people who said watching the show got them into the investment banking business. Unsurprisingly, those messages drove them nuts as they felt that these people were only watching the shiny parts, like the parties, the drugs, and the chaos. They completely miss the part where everyone ends up empty and broken. That’s the point. Industry is not making fun of rich people from the outside; it’s just showing how the system eats the people trying to climb.
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Why The Jargon Doesn’t Matter in ‘Industry’
Like most people, you probably checked out after just one episode because all the trading jargon made you think you needed an MBA just to follow along. Here’s the thing, though: the number crunching is just noise. You don’t need to understand it. Just watch the emotional toll it takes on the characters.
You see it earlier on in Harper when she panics over a trade going bad. In Yasmin, when she smiles through yet another dude treating her like she doesn’t matter because she’s a woman. Or in Robert (Harry Lawtey) when he tries to act all cool when everything is going belly up. A lot of people have described the uneasy feelings they get while watching the show, and it has nothing to do with the technical stuff.
Those sweaty palms and pounding in the chest? Not an accident. It’s just the show telling you that money is merely a way of keeping score. What it’s really tracking is how you value yourself, which brings us to the part that really trips people up.
The Case for the “Unlikable Protagonist” in ‘Industry’
Harper Stern is an incredible character, no doubt. But she’s also the reason most people bailed. To them, she was just… unlikable. And that seems like a fair reaction, because of all her lying, cheating, and throwing people under the bus for sport. However, her behavior is also kinda the whole point of the show.
Myha’la plays Harper as someone who’s not sorry for wanting power, and the creators also didn’t pretend it was a girl boss empowerment moment. You see the damage in real time, everything that led a critic to call her one of the most deliciously chaotic villains on TV right now. And it’s not simply because she’s… evil, but because she’s so uncomfortably real about what she wants.
It’s a refreshing POV because for years, TV has sold us this fantasy version of ambition, you know, the woman in the nice suit who wins, and looks great doing it. But Industry takes that whole idea and sets it on fire. Ambition here is ugly, and people get hurt. For instance, Harper’s mentor, Eric Tao (Ken Leung), gets to be ruthless and is hailed as a strong leader for it. But Harper does the same thing, and suddenly she’s a problem. The show lets you sit with that double standard without hitting you over the head with it. That’s why it hits harder.
Yasmin’s arc also adds another layer. She comes from money but still feels like she could be shown the door at any moment. Robert bounces between thinking he’s got it and knowing he doesn’t. Ultimately, nobody here is all good or all bad. They’re all just trying to stay relevant in a system that moves fast and forgets faster.
How ‘Industry’ Went From Cult Hit To Become a Heavyweight
The first two seasons of Industry felt like laying the foundation of a skyscraper. Now, the subsequent seasons have taken things to another level. Crucially, this glow-up didn’t dilute the bite that made the show so good in the first place. The first major glow-up is the introduction of Kit Harington in Season 3. Yep, the actor who played Jon Snow in Game of Thrones. This time, he portrays Sir Henry Muck, a spoiled aristocrat who struggles with depression and addiction. He is also the CEO of green-energy start-up, Lumi.
He talks all day about saving the planet, while investors talk about making money. Watching those two conversations bump into each other drives the whole season. Harington plays him with this slippery charm. You get why people buy what he’s selling, but you also see the cracks underneath. The season digs into this whole idea of “ethical investing” and how “doing good” can become just another marketing strategy. It hit different because that’s what’s playing out in the real world right now.
Most people agree that Season 3 was the best one yet. The writing got tighter. The stakes felt real. Pierpoint wasn’t just a bank anymore. It was tangled up in politics and tech and all the stories we tell ourselves about the future. Then Season 4 dropped and kept rolling. The characters aren’t scared kids anymore. They’re the ones making decisions now, which makes their choices hit different. The fourth season digs into tech hype and data, and how easy it is to spin public opinion.
In all, HBO clearly sees what they’ve got, and the show has already been renewed for a fifth and final season. The creators basically said they know when to leave the party, unlike some of their characters. That means we get an ending that lands. No rush job. No fade to black confusion, and that alone says something poignant. All in all, Industry gets something right about this moment we’re living in. The grind culture. The status obsession. The way your job becomes your whole personality. It knows that the scariest thing right now might just be a Slack message that pops up at 11 pm on a Friday.
If you watched the first few episodes years ago and didn’t fancy it, give it another run on HBO Max. And if you never started, well, there’s no better time to jump in; because by the time Season 5 wraps, everyone’s going to be calling it a classic.
