Ditching a primary location is a time-honored TV tradition that dates back to I Love Lucy swapping Manhattan for the suburbs halfway through its sixth season. But Lucy and Ricky Ricardo are not who spring to mind when Pierpoint & Co.’s London trading floor was shuttered at the end of Industry’s audacious third season. Whereas the propulsive HBO finance drama has little in common with Friday Night Lights beyond an impressive ensemble, the timing of this upheaval and its impact on the plotting are similar. Both FNL and Industry could’ve called it a day with those defining season-three finales. Thankfully, Industry continues to tell stories, and, much like the move to East Dillon High, losing Pierpoint as a central hub offers new avenues that creators Mickey Down and Konrad Kay can fully explore.
Rather than gently guide us back into this cutthroat corporate world with familiar faces, the opening sequence turns to new characters while still maintaining its signature sleazy, debauched hallmarks, moving from a crowded bar to a pulsing, hedonistic nightclub and ending at an enviable abode. Music supervisor Oliver White’s mood-setting is on point throughout the hour (there are needle drops from New Order, The Prodigy, and Beach House), as is Nathan Micay’s euphoric score.
Fresh from the conclusion of Stranger Things, we follow Charlie Heaton (now using his native British accent) as Jim Dyker, an investigative journalist who briefly borrows sartorial and shifty moves from You’s Joe Goldberg. Jim specifically targets Haley Clay (Kiernan Shipka), a young assistant at the fintech company Tender, which has just opened offices in the swanky Canary Wharf. Drugs are shared; ethical lines crossed. Jim and Haley’s introduction instantly pulls us into the murkiness by posing a question about Tender’s practices.
Whereas the first season gave Myha’la, Marisa Abela, David Jonsson, and Harry Lawtey breakout roles, recent additions are predominantly from high-profile shows such as Mad Men, The Handmaid’s Tale, Ted Lasso, and the aforementioned Stranger Things. Thankfully, it only takes a beat to shake off any distraction. Last year, Kit Harington proved he could shed the vestiges of Jon Snow as the gloriously named Sir Henry Muck, whose green-tech energy company Lumi quickly fell off a financial cliff after a disastrous IPO. Still, I long for a few more rising stars like Miriam Petche’s scene-stealing Sweetpea Golightly, who I am thrilled to see is back in season four.
Before delving into the new significant business player on the market, the premiere “PayPal Of Bukkake” (a line describing Tender’s current reputation) checks in with Harper Stern (Myha’la), striding into an office with gilded portraits covering the walls, underscoring the upper-class figures pulling the strings. It has been just over a year since Harper got into business with opportunistic Otto Mostyn (Roger Barclay), and the wheels have come off. “I’m really tired of dancing around the fact that I was promised a fund and given what feels like a separately managed account with claustrophobic levels of oversight.” Otto has since retired, but his fingerprints remain on the shorts fund Harper is supposed to be managing.
Industry is not one for spoon-feeding plot or pausing to explain the technical jargon fired at machine-gun speed. Thankfully, you don’t need to be fluent in banking vernacular to understand that Harper is pushed into a corner when investors start to pull their capital. Her lack of control leads her to press the nuclear option: an “emergency gate” on the fund. Even though Harper’s short is working, sending a late-night client-wide email announcing that outflows from the fund are temporarily prohibited doesn’t do her any favors.
Rather than building to a confrontation with Otto later this season, Industry goes straight for the jugular, confidently opening with an irreparable rupture. In fact, the first episode back is a reset within a reset that places Harper closer to the heart of the action as she sets her sights on “adult content player” Siren, only to have her gaze drawn by FinDigest journalist Jim to the bigger target, Tender. The timing is impeccable as Harper has just slept with Tender co-founder Whitney Halberstram (Max Minghella).
While Harper was sidelined for a portion of the third season because she lacked overlap with the majority of the cast, this is far from the case in the premiere, which sees her as the needle threading old to new in her interactions with Whitney at a Yasmin-hosted soirée. The dinner party emphasizes Whitney’s desire to schmooze with the right people. He refers to Yas as a dear friend, but has yet to meet Henry, which reads as a red flag.
Minghella plays Whitney as controlled but slippery. Even a brief outburst at the office when he knocks over a chair is demonstrative. On the surface, Whitney’s image is far cleaner and less crass than that of co-founder and Tender CEO Jonah Atterbury (Kal Penn). However, Whitney barking orders at his assistant, Haley, to pick up the chair, demonstrates that he wears a mask of an HR-compliant boss trying to save the company from Jonah’s bad behavior. Everything is calculated: Whitney fancies himself a market leader, and his late-stage capitalism rant underscores his vision for Tender 2.0 that Jonah is blocking. Jonah’s dismissal at the end of the premiere is another example of business trumping long-standing relationships while striving for a bigger piece of the pie.
As Industry has moved forward, the focus has shifted far beyond the trading floor, with government and journalism emerging as major players in depicting this sector, with the upper echelon pulling their strings. In doing so, the creative team continues to draw on the British and American regulatory and political landscapes to reflect the real world: Labour is in power, the right-wing Reform party has representation in Parliament, and Donald Trump is president again.
The latter isn’t mentioned explicitly by name (other than “47”), but does make an appearance on the golf course, playing too slowly on the next hole for the still-retired Eric (Ken Leung) and his group of wealthy old white men. Is this too much reality seeping into the series? I’m not sure we needed a visual this obvious when Harper’s confrontation with Otto says it all. Otto smugly announces to Harper that he has been anointed by the King in the House Of Lords and no longer has to watch his language because “woke shit no longer moves the needle in this new world.” While he doesn’t use the words “DEI hire” when dismissing his need for a woman like Harper in 2026, she reads between the lines. (“You wanted to hire a puppet in Blackface so you could continue to be a crook.”) All this does is add fuel to Harper’s fire, who calls her mentor, nemesis, and soon-to-be partner Eric.
Considering everything that has gone down between Eric and Harper, I am not expecting an easy road ahead. Nor do I want it to be friction-free. However, there is something heartening about the way they hash out terms in person, with Myha’la and Leung firing on all emotional cylinders. “I can’t be a punching bag for another man’s fear,” she tells him. In the past, they have brought out the worst in each other, but reviving their mutual respect during this face-to-face conversation is a turning point. Of course, neither of them is content with their current circumstances. Eric can’t help but philosophize about the inertia of experiencing heaven on earth, and Harper is in hedge-fund hell. Is it enough to make their venture a success? For now, yes. “It’s really funny how honest communication can feel like a fucking exorcism,” Harper says. Still, I cannot wait to see the inevitable fireworks go off. Now that is a bet I am willing to make.
Stray observations
- • “Very inconvenient.” Harper’s droll response to client James Ashford suffering a transient ischemic attack (“as strokes go, it was a baby”), faceplanting onto her glass desk that shatters, is hilariously and equally cold-blooded. Also ticking the dark humor boxes: James gets stuck repeating “sesquipedalian” (meaning “long-winded”) before he passes out.
- • Harper’s 30th birthday card from her mother underscores their complex relationship: “To Harper, Happy 30th. Looks like you got everything you wanted.” The worst part? It is signed “Best, Mom” (zero kisses).
- • Costume designer Laura K. Smith sets the tone early on with a striking, custom-built three-piece gray skirt suit for Harper that exudes a powerful aesthetic. Other notable pieces include Jonah’s finance-bro Tender vest, Eric’s golf threads, and Yasmin’s gold-buttoned, ’80s leaning blazer.
- • There isn’t a lot of Yas in the premiere, but she is preoccupied with playing dutiful wife and hostess, excusing Henry’s absence as his getting over a “little cold.” Even before the final scene reveals a disheveled Henry dipping into a different kind of medicine, it is clear she has told this lie (or a similar one) many times.
- • Industry keeps pushing the sex-scene envelope. Kay and Down shoot a sex scene between Harper and Whitney at a distance from inside Whitney’s large closet, directly contrasting the casual intimacy and chit-chat when Harper and Kwabena (Toheeb Jimoh) sleep together. Differences stack up when Whitney asks if Harper will do something for him and guides her to a box containing a strap-on in his closet, which we see her wearing (though not to the point of seeing Harper use it). “I’m not about to be penetrated for some cheap feminist statement,” Kwabena said earlier.
- • Siren’s vast catalog is a recurring theme, including when Rishi (Sagar Radia) is on the hunt for intel to give Harper. Things aren’t going great for Rishi, who ended the third season witnessing the brutal murder of his wife, Diana. While we don’t learn of any legal fallout, Rishi has spent some time in a U.K. mental health and addiction unit. “I wasn’t actually trying to do anything. Not really,” Rishi says, alluding to a suicide attempt.
- • There is no mention of Robert Spearing (Harry Lawtey), whose arc across the three seasons made him an audience favorite. While I would love to see this character again, it makes narrative sense that he has bid adieu to this world for now.
- • Pierpoint makes a blink-and-you ’ll-miss-it appearance in the mock-up Tender 2.0 ad. Pierpoint powers investments for Tender’s “private banker in your pocket” vision.
Emma Fraser is a contributor to The A.V. Club.