At the end of Industry’s fourth season, Yasmim (Marisa Abela) and Harper (Myha’la) are the last two standing from the original regular cast. But the final image of Yas lying on a plush Parisian hotel carpet is a haunting reflection of how far the socialite-turned-trader—and everything since—has fallen. If the last season ended with Yas putting her future into the hands of an unstable aristocrat, now the former Lady Muck proves that she can make it on her own. Still, this is no girlboss-fantasy conclusion in finally achieving her goal of being necessary in “Both, And.” Whereas Yas sinks into the darkness with her father’s last voicemail playing on repeat, Harper finds a sense of balance in personal and professional matters. The latter concludes on more than a wisp of hope, once again showcasing creators Mickey Down and Konrad Kay’s capacity to surprise.
Propulsive pacing that consistently produces surprising narrative turns remains a narrative strength of the HBO financial drama. It has been a riveting season from start to finish, keeping us guessing. Instead of spending the hour reveling in Tender’s cataclysmic downfall, the first 20 minutes focus on the immediate aftermath before a time jump allows the majority of the finale to breathe in the months after the fintech company crashed and burned. In doing so, we ruminate in the ashes of this financial disaster (or victory, depending on who is asked) before witnessing the ripple effect of these events that prove that the old boys’ club is one of the U.K.’s strongest institutions. Rather than fight it, Yasmin exerts power over influential men using sex (though not with her) as a weapon in her arsenal.
Everything that happens with Yasmin and Henry (Kit Harington) in the finale can be traced back to the exceptional “The Commander And The Grey Lady,” in which Yas sees a nightmare vision of her future in the form of her Aunt Cordelia (Claire Forlani). “A little dispassion, it could save you. Get off your knees,” Cordelia told her niece. Seeing her aunt giving Lord Mostyn (Roger Barclay) a blowjob proved that Cordelia wasn’t as free as she made out, but Yas still took her advice (and paid heed to this cautionary tale). If only Henry had shown his rare out-of-character backbone to his wife, then maybe the Muck marriage might have made it into its second year.
Instead, the confrontation with Whitney (Max Minghella) on the fugitive plane is for an audience of one. It is deliberately jarring, sandwiching this scene between Henry in a familiar pleading mode as he begs Yas not to leave him. Yas makes good on the ultimatum she gave at Henry’s birthday party: demanding a divorce if Henry cannot commit to a partnership. Shooting this dissolution in tight close-ups adds to the intensity and claustrophobic nature of this marriage that was doomed from its inception. If there is one moment that sums up how Henry’s life is panning out, it is the silent screaming “Fuck” after Whitney calls with different demands.
Sticking to a story is an overarching theme this season, as is the tension between tradition and disruption. Whitney thought he could massage Henry’s fragile ego and find the perfect partner to manipulate. It worked up to a point, but Whitney’s mistake is failing to grasp what matters most to Henry: his identity and standing. If Henry doesn’t have his titles, then who is he? Privilege runs through Sir Henry Muck’s blue-blood veins, and he isn’t about to trade that for a Lithuanian passport and semblance of freedom. Having this confrontation in the tight confines of Whitney’s getaway vehicle, as the pilots are preparing for takeoff, adds an extra layer of peril. Part of me thought that Henry’s tirade was going to be punctuated by the plane making its ascent before he could get off. Henry’s bad luck doesn’t stretch that far.
After being in control for most of the season, Whitney has very little he can say. Minghella and Harington have been a standout pair throughout the fourth season, including in this role-reversal moment. Henry takes great pleasure in revealing how little he thinks of Whitney in the cold light of day: “Eat my shit, you peasant.” Aside from fraud, Whitney’s grand crime in Henry’s eyes is not having the dignity to know his place. “I’d rather die as me than run as you” is quite the kiss off. Hell hath no fury like a posh Brit scorned.
Henry’s roots come back to haunt him through the plausible deniability his mental-health history gives the shadowy forces pulling Whitney’s strings. Having seen the spiked gates outside Henry’s residence, I took these as a symbol of the prison he is now in, but it turns out they could also be how he meets a sticky end. It isn’t the most subtle imagery, but it hammers home the point that to stay alive, Henry needs to stick to the narrative that Whitney is to blame.
As has become a pattern this year, the timing of these episodes airing amid the Epstein-files fallout continues to speak to the different levers being pulled by Fleet Street and Downing Street in the U.K., even if some of those big political swings feel less developed. Here, Henry is hammered by headlines, but still ends the episode fishing with his uncle and Mostyn. The ankle monitor and the Lithium (medication he previously stipulated muted everything) are a compromise. However, he still gets to enjoy the spoils of his privilege, summed up by “For He Is An Englishman” on the soundtrack.
Access is how Yas sells her current venture, a continuation of the setup where Harper first met Whitney. Since Jennifer Beven (Amy James-Kelly) rejected Yasmin’s friendship and consulting bona fides in the previous episode, Yas takes a sharp turn right, organizing fundraisers for Reform UK’s hot young prospect Sebastian Stefanowicz (Edward Holcroft). If one Industry strength is knowing when a character has come to the end of their road (even if I still miss Rob and now Eric), another is introducing players before they impact the overarching storyline. Stefanowicz has been popping up on TV coverage, positioning himself as the person to bring about real change to the usual political back-and-forths. It is even more disturbing when Yas starts parroting his right-wing talking points like a chameleon lacking any beliefs of her own.
At the dinner party in Paris, we experience this new Yas phase through Harper’s eyes, which grow in horror with the more thinly veiled Nazi rhetoric she endures. Myha’la runs the gamut of horrified reactions, culminating in the realization that Yas has taken over the exploitation business that Whitney was peddling. In the great debate over likeability, the question of Yasmin arises earlier when Kwabena (Toheeb Jimoh) mentions a friend who went to school with Yas, who called her a “pretty nasty piece of work.” Harper knows Yas is a survivor, but by the end of her Parisian experience, she finds it hard to look her friend in the eye. Having Yas spell out the “both, and” theory also feels like a response to viewers who don’t know who to root for. A character can do heinous things, but Yas didn’t happen in a vacuum. Without the context of her father (and his death), it would be easy to write Yas off, but her final scene highlights why she has slipped into this abyss.
Still, it is hard to watch her take Harper’s hand and reject the offer to leave, choosing exploitation under the guise of aiding young women. Between Eric (Ken Leung) leaving and her mother dying, Harper has endured plenty of heartbreak, but this cut might be the deepest. Harper can’t even persuade any of the girls to leave with her. Having “Ne Me Quitte Pas” by Jacques Brel as Harper’s exit music underscores the high drama.
The resolution with Kwabena, followed by Harper’s comments on the plane about people changing, offers a hopeful ending, despite how we left Yas in Paris. Two things can be true at once, and Down and Kay continue to find ways to push this story forward even after shedding much of the original lineup. It was just announced that the series has been renewed for a fifth and final season, and there is plenty of runway for Harper and Yasmin, and whoever else gets pulled into their high-octane orbit for one last debauched dance. Four seasons in, Industry’s stock continues to rise.
Stray observations
- • Sweetpea’s (Miriam Petche) celebratory room-service order includes caviar, French toast, Pringles, Casamigos, and McDonald’s French fries. Sweetpea is also thrilled that she can now afford “actual fucking Prada,” not just second-hand Prada. The two-million-pound payday each Sweetpea, Kwabena, and Harper receives will definitely keep the trio in all the designer threads they desire. While Harper doesn’t have a great track record of lasting collaborations, I have hopes for this trio.
- • Some other great soundtrack choices this week, including “No Other Love” by Jo Stafford playing over scenes with Henry and Yas and then later with Henry tearfully reuniting with his uncle. The most on-the-nose cue comes from Ella Fitzgerald’s “Get Thee Behind Me Satan” when the scene cuts from Henry with Mostyn to Yas with Hayley (Kiernan Shipka).
- • Does Hayley have a tape of her threesome with Henry and Yas? Hayley claims she doesn’t, but delivers this assurance with enough doubt that Yas is still not entirely sure if she is telling the truth (and neither am I).
- • “We’re Catholic, for fuck’s sake.” Henry really pulls out all the stops to convince Yas to stay married.
- • Tony Day (Stephen Campbell Moore) could’ve been a whistleblower. Instead, he is one of the few people who are arrested as part of the Tender plot. The credits include a flash of Whitney bathed in red light, leaving this storyline and character as a dangling thread to be revisited.
Emma Fraser is a contributor to The A.V. Club.
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