A toast to Succession's 10 most cringeworthy speeches, ranked from least to most wild

Shiv’s speech feels more cringeworthy in hindsight. She starts by letting everyone know how badly she doesn’t want to toast Caroline (Harriet Walter) getting married—“totally unprepared” are some of the words she uses. Fine, it’s not the worst in a history of Succession speeches, right? Not so fast.

If you listen to her calling her mother an interesting person, making it clear that she’s jealous her new husband at least gets to spend time with her, it seems Shiv is speaking from a place of real hurt. How can you cringe at that? But the wishes she bestows on them are this: hoping this marriage is somewhat as healthy and lengthy as Shiv and Tom’s. The Bitey-playing couple didn’t even last the episode because it’s in the same season three finale that Tom sides with Logan, upending their relationship, and one episode later, in the season four premiere, they decide to call it quits. [Saloni Gajjar]

Kendall Roy will be remembered for some truly epic levels of cringe in front of large audiences, yet he can also make embarrassing speeches in intimate venues. Back in season one, during the brief period when he was dabbling in venture capitalism, Kendall takes a meeting with the founders of an art startup called Dust, completely misreading the room before he even steps into it. Realizing he looks like a poser, he tries to hang a lampshade on his brand new Lanvin sneakers—the ones he’s resting on their coffee table like he already owns the place. “I got these sneakers on the way down here because, uh, I thought, I don’t know what I thought, I thought you’d all be dressed like fuckin’ Bjork and, uh, I wanted to, uh, make an impression.”

Not letting the founders get a word in, he monologues about monetization, scale, and every other buzzword he can think of. “We’re boutique, we’re light on our feet, we’re not the Gang of Four, we’re the fuckin’ Rebel Alliance,” he tells them with a straight face. “I’m a good guy who knows the bad guys, I’ve got reach, and I will fight for you every fuckin’ day. I’m the asshole who can be your Warhol. And, uh ... yeah, I just thought of that, so apparently, I do know a little bit about art.” Sure, the art of bullshit, maybe. [Cindy White]

At the Argestes conference, Tom takes the stage, offering some pretty insightful stuff to those in attendance: “It’s important to remember two fundamental things about the news: One, it’s new! All the things that are new. The many news. The news!” He goes onto point two as Roman knocks him in front of Shiv, and then Tom unveils the big tagline he and Greg have been workshopping: “We aim to evolve our coverage into something that is not only dynamic but democratic and something that truly serves our audience’s ever-changing needs. And that is why we like to say, ‘ATN. We hear for you.’”

Greg listens intently, and the only three people in the shot behind him immediately laugh. This isn’t scene-stealer cringe, but it’s so dumb and embarrassing—or it should be, anyway. It’s another reminder from the series that Tom and Greg have absolutely no business doing what they do for a living. [Tim Lowery]

“When a man dies, it is sad.” So says Connor Roy while eulogizing his recently deceased “Uncle Moe,” enlightening us in the process that his name was not, in fact, Moe. Lester McClintock was actually a sexual predator, an open secret among the Roy clan to the point where he was nicknamed “Moe-Lester.” And while Connor typically loves to snag an opportunity to hear himself talk, he realized this time that this was not an opportunity that would make him look particularly good. Willa helps him with the eulogy immediately before he approaches the altar, but hearing the words, it’s no surprise that her play flopped. “All of us will die one day. In this case, it is Lester who has done so,” Connor explains. Say what you will—this may be the most honest Connor has ever been. [Drew Gillis]

Logan Roy yelling about the scope of media while standing on a tiny stool in a newsroom. Trust me, this feels the most cringe personally. In a broader Succession scale, his waxing poetic about loving the news is cringe when you consider how much he decides it as opposed to simply reporting it. He starts when Tom calls him “The Big Man” and invites him to address the journalists, and Logan can’t help but begin by essentially yelling at them about the 40 percent rise in costs. He really does have a knack for making people uncomfortable while “praising” them.

In this moment, the episode two closer, he talks about how much he loves Waystar and plans to spend more time there. “I want to be cutting their throats,” he says of their rivals while screaming at the top of his lungs. It’s cringe because it sounds exactly as unrealistic as you’d expect—an old white man assuming he’s on top of the world and can dictate how his place of work should function. His desire to stick around doesn’t last long, of course, because Logan drops dead on the plane an episode later. At least Succession let Cox rip one out for the last time before he left the show. [Saloni Gajjar]

Logan’s funeral was bound to have memorable speeches. How else can you bid goodbye to a man and character who was larger than life? “Church And State” doesn’t disappoint. James Cromwell takes the stage first, and while everyone fears what he’ll rattle off about his brother (Greg couldn’t even cut off his legs to stop him, pfft), all Ewan does is paint a brutally honest picture of Logan. Similarly, Shiv’s short goodbye to him feels direct and honest. Kendall goes off the rails, yes, but it’s less cringeworthy, more pathetic and sad, with a perfect snot spot running down his nose.

The worst, and most cringe of them all, is Roman’s speech that, thankfully, only the show’s audience gets to witness. The hour begins with Rome at home, preparing to say words about how Logan Roy was great “in every sense of the word.” He’s pumping himself and his father up as best he can. You can only watch through your fingers as he narrates what to say about his dead dad, pacing from room to room, staring himself in each mirror, struggling to face himself in Logan’s absence.

He can’t stay still, breathe, and comprehend for one second that his father’s gone. His speech is gutting but also very Rome-like, in that he continues wanting to be like Logan. No wonder his world crumbles when he’s staring at the coffin from the podium—he had no choice but to comprehend, and then no one in his world (but us) hears “Roman the showman light up the sky.” Well, it was good enough to be on this cringe list, so good job there. [Saloni Gajjar]

Dropped 40 minutes into one of Succession’s most blistering hours, Connor’s vapid, vindictive, vaguely threatening concession speech cemented what we’ve long known: Alan Ruck is the star of this show. Connor spends his final chat with the American people (who flunked it) in a constant state of punch-up, tacking on excuses as he drowns in flop sweat. Whether it be that woman, a reminder that he’s a billionaire (sorry!), or the heightening from his first running mate to “had I not had to replace her,” Ruck plays all sides, from hurt to angry to optimistic, before landing on a cryptic “The Con-heads are coming.” Frank’s lay-up, “Connor was running for president,” is the clincher. Cringey as it may be, Connor’s concession speech is a remarkable bit of comedy. [Matt Schimkowitz]

A performance so bad it heralded the immortal Fisher Stevens line, “What’s it like being married to a man with two assholes?” Tom’s appearance before Congress near the end of the show’s second season is a reminder that, for all his claims to redwood-esque genitalia, Mr. Wambsgans folds like cardboard under the lightest of pressures. Tom’s testimony while he’s being grilled by Eric Bogosian’s endlessly dry Sen. Gil Eavis isn’t so much a speech as a total failure to make one; the best he can do, flop sweat flying from every pore, is weakly admit that serial abuser Lester “Mo” McClintock seemed “a bit creepy,” and do a quick take back when he outright perjures himself about knowing Greg. (Whose own, quasi-deranged performance at the same hearing at the start of the next episode we can toss in here as a bonus speech: if it is to be said; if it is to be said, so it be, so it is.) [William Hughes]

How can someone lose when they’re already chose? Allow Kendall Roy to elucidate that with the ill-fated rap song affectionately known among the fandom as “L to the OG.” Ken-W.A’s extra special gift for a party celebrating the 50th anniversary of Logan founding Waystar-Royco, the rap starts off confusing and ends up genuinely unforgettable, leaving even Gerri (who has seen everything) agog and serving as one of the most regrettable public decisions Kendall has made to date. And this is the man that threw that birthday party!

Wearing an “LOG” emblazoned Yankees jersey before friends, foes, and family members alike, Kendall raps for Logan over a beat his “boy” Squiggle “cooked up,” a piano beat so jarring it leads Roman’s date to enquire: “Is he going to strip?” Although Kendall doesn’t literally strip (aside from the eye-roll moment when he removes his suit and bow tie to reveal his Logan-themed casual wear) during the performance, he certainly strips away any decorum he has with the roughly minute-long ode to Logan, which includes the mercilessly fate tempting line: “Fuck Father Time.” Hey, at least Cousin Greg liked it. [Hattie Lindert]

Although he didn’t get the ridiculous clouds he wanted (he saw them in Berlin), in this season’s “Living+,” Ken still managed, even with a bare-bones stage, to give one of the cringiest openings to any speech that’s been on this show. Donning a flight jacket—we repeat, a flight jacket—he begins: “Hey, uh, yeah. Big shoes. Big big shoes. Big big shoes.” (Roman’s on-point response: “Big shoes. Big hat. Big nervous breakdown.”) And then, after bragging about now being CEO, he segues to this: “It means a lot. Isn’t that right, Dad?” And then there he is, onscreen and towering above the audience and Ken: his recently deceased father, who’s been digitally altered into doing a … comedy routine? Ken’s speech went on to land, but that stunt was truly tough to watch. [Tim Lowery]