Small wake-up call from the television-muezzin: „Succession!“ it sounds from the onion dome and praised is a highly acclaimed masterpiece: the portrayal of a patriarchal media mogul and his family-entourage. The heirs, his children, are four freaky, more or less troubled sibblings. Watching this is a must, according to Quawali-singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan actually a „Musst, Musst“. For me it is one of the few series I would even watch for a second time. The story is: my Netflix summer break alternative offered a ticket to Sky but did not provide subtitles, so I had to watch it „pure“, in the original version. First a bad surprise („Wow, is my English still that poor?“) it soon turned to be a win situation: you don’t get all dialogue details, maybe half of them, but on the other hand valences of attention become free for other things, like the faces, the venues, the film-cuts. The flow is guarantied, anyway. And brilliant acting transports a main part of the plot by itself. The rest do the episode-guides. Someday, if circumstances allow, on a second run the dialogue subtilities will certainly be re-adjusted. Already looking forward to that point. In the meantime I tune in with a reviewer hiding out somewhere in the widespread cotton fields of Rotten Tomatoes: „My regrets to all those who have missed this ambitious shakesperean show.“