“Succession” is a tragedy because breaking the cycle of familial abuse has always been a pipe dream; “Succession” is a comedy because of how the show illustrates that truth. The diamond-sharp scripts are an indelible mix of erudition — bags aren’t big, they’re “ludicrously capacious” — and inarticulate bluster, the Roys stammering in strings of “ums” and “yeahs.” The direction, established by Adam McKay in the pilot and then led by executive producer Mark Mylod, is hyperactive and deliberately un-stylized, focusing on anxious, greedy people rather than the gorgeous spaces they inhabit. Visually, the show looks more like a vérité-style cringe sitcom (such as “The Thick of It,” where Armstrong once worked as a writer) than an escapist fantasy.