(Warning: Spoilers ahead for Season 3, Episode 7: “Useful Idiot.”)
Parties at Pierpoint have always had an air of the last days of Rome in excess and revelry, but the end has never felt more in sight on Industry than it does now. It is the 150th anniversary of the American investment bank, and the fact that prosecco and not champagne is flowing at the black-tie bash indicates how dire the circumstances are. With the empire on the verge of falling, employees are straight-up banging in full view of everyone else.
To use another historical reference, Sweetpea (Miriam Petche) observes it is “deckchairs on the Titanic” after Rishi (Sagar Radia) pulls her and Anraj (Irfan Shamji) from the celebration to make some last-minute sales. Sure, Rishi claims he is working on an “off-ramp” for them, but Sweetpea continues to be the low-key MVP of the season, immediately smelling Rishi’s BS and desperation. She isn’t using what could be the final few hours of the biz working the phones. Instead, Sweetpea tells Anraj they should get “hooned” (aka wasted).
Stock prices are tanking, but Eric (Ken Leung) still works angles to save the day. Having spent most of the third season in a pitiful mid-life crisis, Eric has his mojo back, enacting the ‘people are a means to an end’ philosophy he chastised Harper (Myha’la) for using. Yep, Eric is about to sink to a new low when he gaslights Bill Adler (Trevor White) into thinking his brain tumor made him forget a pertinent conversation. It is as cutthroat as it sounds in execution.
After an all-nighter in the boardroom, Eric ultimately makes Bill the “Useful Idiot” of the episode title by not drawing attention to a mistake in a deck until potential savior Mitsubishi is in the room. Instead, Eric convincingly claims he has already broached this typo to Bill. Bill has an extreme reaction to this apparent “memory loss” incident, related to a health condition that only Eric knows about.
Marisa Abela and Harry Lawtey
Simon Ridgway/HBO
“For what?!” Bill asks Eric in wide-eye horror when he realizes this conversation never happened. It was all part of a self-preservation ruse for Eric. For those who have forgotten, it is a sobering reminder of how similar Eric and Harper are.
Exit strategies are a theme of the penultimate episode, which sees Robert (Harry Lawtey) and Yasmin (Marisa Abela) drive to Wales. “Let’s mistake the open road for freedom like all culture teaches us,” says Rob. Lawtey adopting an American inflection on the phrase “open road” makes this all the more charming. Rob has a job interview and thinks his roommate needs a change of scenery. The recently unemployed Yasmin continues to deal with the fallout of her father’s crimes as Hanani Publishing wants Yas to be the face of the scandal.
Sure, the company will pay back the millions owed by her father, but Yas must publicly admit knowledge of her father’s crimes and that she specifically benefited—even though this is not true. The tabloids have already branded her the Embezzler Heiress, and Hanani Publishing wants this title to become fact. Yasmin’s other option is a lengthy legal battle she cannot afford. Her privilege bubble has popped (or at least been deflated).
While Yasmin wallows in damsel-in-distress mud, Robert is no longer a company man. Industry has a habit of giving Robert a day from hell, so throwing ayahuasca into the mix a few episodes ago seemed like a ready-made fiasco. Instead, it helped him process layered trauma and led to a job interview with a psilocybin startup called “LittleLabs.” Lawtey is a deft physical performer, making Robert look lighter as he no longer wears the weight of the Lumi disaster.
Excitement for the future emanates from every pore as Robert puts more miles between him and Pierpoint. However, his passenger can’t help but pollute the air with a Debbie Downer vibe. Given how pumped Rob is, I should be annoyed at Yas for her instant negativity, but considering how other new ventures have gone, I worry that Robert is getting sold a bum deal.
Throughout the road trip, Yasmin reverts to her worst traits, like casual cruelty to the woman working the desk at the hotel bar when they check in (and again when they check out). An ingrained sense of entitlement is at odds with Robert’s working-class sensibilities, and it is a massive turn-off—and why I can’t ever hop on board this romantic ship.
Take her reaction to the battered sausage and chips a thrilled Rob has scored for dinner on the pier. “Don’t be such a snob,” Robert rightly tells her about this excellent food option (no, really). When Yasmin tells him he should “invite that impressionable young girl up to your room and f— her silly,” it is not the playful suggestion she thinks it is. Instead, Robert thinks she should sit in her vulnerability. It’s a far cry from the Season 1 sexually charged antics of the duo’s framed “sniffing panties selfies” interaction and eating ejaculate off a mirror.
Briefly, Yas does the uncomfortable things and is honest about how she approaches intimacy: Whenever she starts to love or care about something, her first instinct is to make it something ugly or reduce it to sex. After this unburdening, they kiss but return to separate rooms.
Because Yas is physically incapable of sitting alone in her sober thoughts, she pops a bunch of the psilocybin LittleLabs samples while in the bath. Obviously, this is a terrible idea. When Robert hears loud wailing from her room, he plays the hero. Thankfully, she has only cut her hand, though the bloody mess in the bathroom makes it look worse. Classic Yas!
Even with this chaos, Robert nails the job interview. Now, he is potentially looking at relocating to Silicon Valley, as this particular drug market is still illegal in the UK. Selfishly, I hope Robert sticks around, but he has certainly been through enough over three seasons to earn this win, and his arc underscores growth within a business that often rewards the self-serving.
Speaking of, if Eric earns the crown of most despicable this week, Yasmin will take the runner-up prize for looking out for number one. Yasmin’s scenario is more complicated as she should not be her father’s scapegoat. A list of the women who signed NDAs and then took dummy jobs at Hanani Publishing proves the business is culpable, but for this strategy to work, it means publicly naming the victims. Yasmin doesn’t initially consider this side effect and, ultimately, chooses herself. “It is them, or it is me,” she yells at her lawyer.
Like Eric, Yasmin knows how to survive when her world is on fire, but how much is going to burn in next week’s finale?
