Sex, Alcohol, and Drugs
By Haoran Xia
Published on: DeepFocus
January 23, 2021
Lena Dunham once remarked in an interview: “I might be one of the creators who best understands how young people think in this era.” Perhaps she is right. As early as 2012, Dunham wrote, directed, and starred in Girls. By depicting the urban lives of four young women, the series offered a horizontal cross-section of twenty-somethings in a major city—their anger, helplessness, confusion, and fleeting hopes. As a female creator, Dunham is particularly adept at presenting social landscapes from the perspective of women or marginalized groups, often that carries an unusual degree of humanistic sensitivity.
Sex and the City was once hailed as a romantic bible and a fashion manual for women. A decade later, Dunham spoke on behalf of the post-80s generation, constructing an abstract social terrain for a new cohort of young people and transmitting the sorrows and joys of contemporary youth. In Industry, where she serves as both executive producer and director, Dunham shifts her focus to a more diverse, more representative, and more realistic group—telling an urban story in which emotion and profession collide, saturated with sex, alcohol, and drugs.
After the 2008 financial crisis, Hollywood television writers began treating this human catastrophe as yet another form of entertainment. Against a backdrop that foregrounds the cruelty of reality, financial dramas gradually expose the logic and conspiracies beneath systemic collapse. Stories centered on finance often revolve around invisible struggles among elites; within bloodless competitions devoid of visible weapons, the unique brutality and violence of elite classes are laid bare.
The protagonists of Industry do not fit the traditional definition of elites, but relatively speaking, they are candidates for elite status. Within this framework, certain characters—Harper, for instance—remain fluid and dynamic. Meanwhile, more rigid characters gradually soften through friction and group interaction, revealing their truer selves. Beyond character psychology, Industry also makes a deliberate effort in constructing varied social backgrounds. It departs from the rigid elite-centric narratives typical of financial dramas and instead builds a new model of storytelling centered on class mobility.
Among the four leads, Harper functions as this new type of narrator. She comes from an ordinary background, possesses an unremarkable appearance, and enters Pierpoint burdened by insecurity yet driven by ambition. Through her efforts, she gradually earns the approval of her supervisor. The other three protagonists, by contrast, are privileged by birth and background, yet each carries a fatal flaw: Robert lacks professional competence, Gus is crippled by arrogance, and Yasmin is emotionally fragile. These weaknesses repeatedly endanger them within Pierpoint’s ruthless competition.
Together, Harper and the other three characters establish a clear class comparison, intensifying the drama of competition. The one-against-three—and occasionally two-versus-two—undercurrents of rivalry allow viewers to experience class struggle and workplace combat in concrete terms. Class differences throw the four protagonists into a chaotic crucible where they collide, clash, merge, and ultimately understand one another. Character arcs that might seem out of place in a financial drama expand the scope of conflict beyond what such series traditionally portray.
Beyond these character constructions, Industry also addresses the political consciousness expected of contemporary television. Three of the four protagonists belong to marginalized groups: a Black woman, a gay man, and a second-generation immigrant. This introduces a second narrative layer to the class competition. Within a social system dominated by white men, these marginalized figures endure wave after wave of selection and elimination before ultimately carving out space within the financial jungle—symbolizing the victory of minorities within mainstream society.
Harper’s professional relationship with her supervisor, Eric, adds further depth to this second narrative. Historically, television has rarely succeeded in portraying complex male–female relationships that oscillate between rivalry and alliance. Notable exceptions include Don and Peggy in Mad Men, and Saul and Kim in Better Call Saul. These relationships span gendered modes of perception, negotiating morality, emotion, and values until a fragile equilibrium is reached—at which point the two parties recognize each other as spiritual companions, revealing a rare purity and trust between the sexes.
Harper and Eric show signs of moving in this direction. They are mentor and apprentice, colleagues bound by shared interests, constantly negotiating balance within daily trading battles. Their relationship not only reinforces the series’ stance on political correctness but also suggests the permeability of today’s elite ivory towers. Importantly, Industry does not push political correctness to an extreme. Instead, it integrates political awareness with material reality, constructing a more authentic and challenging career path for its characters—rather than mechanically transplanting “correct” politics into the workplace to produce a smooth yet hollow professional fantasy. This restraint significantly enhances the series’ dramatic appeal.
Financial dramas are typically built around a clearly defined demographic. Billions targets middle-aged professional elites; Succession explores familial struggles among money, power, and individuality. Industry, however, positions itself squarely within the world of contemporary youth. A brief scene reveals Harper was born in 1998—placing her among the post-95 generation newly entering the workforce.
Because Dunham excels at capturing the mindset and behavior of younger generations, this project anchors its values within a cohort of workplace newcomers. Young people are routinely dismissed by their elders as inexperienced, restless, and arrogant—a cyclical pattern repeated across generations. Yet Industry presents a networked developmental trajectory that fully demonstrates young people’s resilience and diligence under workplace pressure: Harper researches obsessively; Robert defends his mentor’s authority; Yasmin endures workplace abuse; Gus guards his dignity.
Through these four distinct figures, the series sketches a broader portrait of young professionals navigating contradiction. They oscillate between ambition and retreat, continually rebuilding their psychological defenses, solving one internal problem after another, step by step establishing their foothold in the professional world. Industry is a hybrid text—it condenses nearly all the anxieties and confusions of the younger generation. Under the catalytic effects of sex, alcohol, and drugs, workplace conflicts, emotional entanglements, and everyday trivialities react chemically, producing a volatile whole.
Formally, Industry adheres to the visual grammar of traditional financial dramas. In Adam McKay’s The Big Short and Succession, McKay frequently employs abrupt focal shifts—rapid zoom-ins that magnify micro-emotional changes within seconds, delivering a barrage of close-ups that collectively form a realist tableau. These rapidly shifting frames also mirror the emotional volatility of the characters, as if the camera itself were subject to the same instability. Visual language thus becomes a third mode of expression, conveying characters’ subjective fragmentation amid turbulence.
This technique, commonly used in documentary filmmaking to preserve immediacy and detail, feels particularly apt when applied to financial dramas. It enhances realism and objectivity while drawing viewers closer to the narrative, fostering a sense of immersion.
Alongside cinematography, the series deploys material conduits—sex, alcohol, and drugs—as outlets for stress and emotional release, reflecting modern urban life as exemplified by London. One of the most concrete ways to portray city life is through leisure, a method widely used in film and television. Though sex, alcohol, and drugs may appear extreme or unhealthy, escalating pressures in contemporary society have compelled young people to numb themselves, releasing stress within illusory fantasies.
Explicit nudity, drug use, and all-night revelry mark the characters’ pursuit of a second self. Sex scenes, in particular, reveal shifting power dynamics. Robert and Yasmin’s long-standing ambiguity evolves into physical intimacy; Gus and Theo, a closeted gay couple, engage in a tense and thrilling game of cat and mouse within the workplace.
Through these “imbalanced” sexual encounters, we observe that Yasmin consistently occupies a position of power over Robert, while in Gus and Theo’s dynamic, Gus plays the cat and Theo the mouse—revealing hidden dimensions of their characters. The series contains many explicit scenes, yet each serves a specific purpose. When assembled, these adrenaline-charged moments resemble a shattered mirror, kaleidoscopically reflecting every facet of each character without omission.
Admittedly, such excess may unsettle some viewers. Yet these characters are not aberrations; they are reflections—perhaps of the audience’s own lives. In reality, such reflections are often only half-visible, with the remainder concealed inwardly. In Industry, however, every character’s days and nights are laid bare. Accompanied by rhythm-driven blues music, this London-centered series ultimately becomes a near-replica of life for every urban boy and girl in London, or other big cities.
作者：夏浩然
发表于：深焦DeepFocus
二零二一 一月二十三日
莉娜·邓纳姆在一次采访中提到：“我可能是最懂这个时代年轻人思想的创作者之一”。或许真是如此。早在2012年，邓纳姆自导自编并自演了《都市女孩》。通过描绘四个不同女生的都市生活，《都市女孩》横向展示了20岁年轻人在大都市中的愤怒、无助、迷茫和希望。邓纳姆作为一名女性创造者，非常善于从女性或少数群体视角单方向地展示社会群像，体现着非同寻常的人文色彩。人们常说《欲望都市》是女性的恋爱圣经、时尚宝典，时隔十年，邓纳姆代表80后群体发声，构建新一代年轻人的抽象社会，传递着当代青年的悲与喜。在《投行风云》里，作为制片兼导演的邓纳姆将故事群体转移至另一个更多元、更具有代表性，也更贴近现实的团体，讲述一个情感与职业交叉影响，充满性，酒精和毒品的都市故事。
2008年金融危机后，好莱坞电视编剧们纷纷将这个人间惨案看为另一个娱乐题材，在凸显现实无情的基础下，逐渐揭露着人间惨案背后的逻辑和阴谋。金融题材的故事常常围绕精英阶层的无形斗争展开，在一个个不见刀光剑影的竞争下，展露着精英阶层惟有的血性和暴力。
《投行风云》的主角群体虽不是传统定义上的精英阶层，但在相对定义上他们都为精英阶层的候选人。在这类设置下，部分主角群体，比如哈珀，的人物走向是动态的，如一块橡皮泥，在多方作用下在最终成型，同时，固态人物也在群体的磨合中逐渐融合，逐渐体现出人物的真实形象。不仅仅是人物性质，在人物背景构造上，《投行风云》也尝试触及多个不同社会背景，抛开金融剧集固定的精英阶层叙事，搭建一个阶级流动的新型叙事模型。四位主角中戏份较多的哈珀便是《投行风云》的新型叙事者。
她出身平凡，相貌平平，带着自卑心理和远大目标进入码点银行，凭借三倍努力一步步得到部门主管的欣赏。另外三位主角都出身高贵，背景雄厚，却分别拥有着各自致命的弱点 —— 罗伯特工作能力较弱，古斯过于心高气傲，亚思敏则心薄性弱，这让他们在码点银行的比拼中频频遇难。哈珀和其他三位人物成功构造了在阶级上的比较，为剧集本身拥有的激烈竞争增加更戏剧性的元素，这一对三，偶尔二对二的暗中较劲让我们体会到更具象的阶层斗争和职场较量。
阶级之间的差别将四位主角放在一个更混乱的大熔炉里，让他们碰撞、摩擦、融合并理解，该本不应该出现在金融剧集里的人物发展扩大了以往剧集专一刻画的矛盾。抛开特殊的人物设置，《投行风云》同样顾及了当今剧集应有的政治性。四位主角中，三位主角都为少数群体 —— 黑人女性，男同性恋和二代移民，这同样为剧集中的阶级竞争提供了第二种叙事。在如今被白人男性主导的社会体系中，这类少数群体在一波又一波的筛选淘汰中，最终在金融丛林中获得一席之地，宣扬着少数群体在主流社会中的胜利。哈珀和她主管艾瑞克的职场关系为这第二种叙事增添了另一番厚度。
首先，美剧历史上亦敌亦友的异性关系少之又少，对这类关系刻画比较成功的有《广告狂人》中的唐和佩吉，以及《风骚律师》中的索尔和金。这类异性关系横架于两种性别认知之上，在无尽的道德、情感、价值博弈中取得一个平衡点，届时，双方已将对方待为精神上的陪伴，展示着男女两性关系中纯粹的美和信任。哈珀与艾瑞克则有往该方向发展的趋势，两人既为师徒，同为同事，利益关系在其间穿插，共同在日常的贸易斗争中追求平衡。他们的关系有力展现了剧集政治正确的立场，也展示了当今精英象牙塔的可攻克性。在参杂众多政治因素后，《投行风云》并没有将政治正确发挥到极致，而是将政治正确与背景现实融合，为人物铺陈一个更现实且更真实的职场道路，而非将政治中的正确复制粘贴至职场，描绘一帆风顺又平平无奇的职场经历，丰富了剧集的可观性。
金融类剧集往往搭建于一个特定群体。《亿万》瞄准的是中年职场精英，《继承》体现了家族在金钱、权力与个人之间的斗争，《投行风云》则定位于当代年轻人（一个片段显示哈珀出生年份为1998年，也就是目前刚入职场的95后）。因为邓纳姆擅长捕捉年轻一代的思想和行为，在这次实验中，她则将价值体现群体定位在社会职场的新生代。年轻一代时常会被前辈挂以“经验不足，浮躁，自傲”等负面标签，以表示对年轻一代的不信任，代代皆如此。而在剧集里，四位主角网状的发展路线全方位地体现了当代年轻人面对职场压力的韧劲和勤奋 —— 哈珀努力调研，罗伯特捍卫导师地位，亚思敏容忍职场暴力，古斯守卫尊严。互不相同的四位主角以小见大地描写了当代年轻人进入职场后的矛盾状态，他们时而进取时而退缩，在心理建设上不断攻克一个又一个难题，一步一个脚印，打下属于自己的职场江山。《投行风云》是一个混合品，他冗杂了年轻一代所有烦恼和困惑，在性，酒精和毒品的副作用下，催化着职场矛盾、情感纠纷和生活琐碎共同的化学反应。
《投行风云》的表现形式则沿袭了传统该类题材剧集的手法。在亚当·麦凯执导的电影《大空头》和剧集《继承》里，麦凯惯用“突发聚焦”氏手法，不断将画面拉近，分秒之间扩大人物在剧情中的微变化，给出接二连三的特写，呈现一副赋有现实主义色彩的画面。迅速变化的镜头同样侧面反映了镜头下人物的情绪变化，仿佛人物情绪与镜头一样起伏不定，镜头语言转变为人物的第三语言，传递着人物形象在动荡中逐渐多面的主观意象。该镜头语言常被运用于纪录片中，目的是为了真实记录影像的细节，当被运用至金融题材剧集时，该镜头语言则显得更加地道，因为它不仅加强了剧集的现实性和客观性，同样拉近了剧集与观众的距离，为观众营造出身临其境的真实感。
与镜头语言同作为表现形式的物质媒介 —— 性，酒精和毒品，作为人物压力和情感宣泄的出口，反映着以伦敦为例子的现代都市生活。描绘都市生活最具体的方式则是展示闲暇生活的日常，这类表现手法在许多剧集和电影中都有体现。性，酒精和毒品在常人看来非常极端且及其不健康，但随着时间推进，进入当下社会，过大的压力迫使年轻人麻痹自己，在不存在的幻想里释放压力。直白的裸露镜头、吸毒场面和通宵狂欢的画面都是主角追寻第二自己的过程，特别是在性爱镜头里，更能体现角色之间权力的转变。剧集中罗伯特和亚思敏之间一直存在暧昧关系，逐渐升温的爱恋让他们有了更多的亲密接触；古斯和西奥，这对隐秘的同性恋情人，在职场上玩着紧张而又令人兴奋的猫鼠游戏。
通过这些“不平衡”的性爱画面，我们则发现亚思敏始终处于权力上方，罗伯特处于下方，而处于游戏中的古斯则是猫，西奥则是鼠，展现了角色不为人知的另一面。剧集里大尺度画面有许多，但每个画面分别有它存在的意义，这些充满肾上腺素的画面串联在一起后，仿佛一块破碎的镜子，万花筒般得体现每个角色的一切，没有丝毫遗漏。
诚然，过度放纵的镜头也许会对部分观众引起心理不适，但他们才是角色，或者是观众自己真实生活的写照，不过在生活中，真实写照常常只被展示一半，另一半则藏在心里，而在剧集里，每个角色的白天黑夜都一览无遗。配上鼓点分明的蓝调音乐，聚焦于伦敦的《投行风云》实则是每个都市男孩女孩的生活复制品。