If you’ve been wandering the HBO wilderness wondering what could possibly follow Succession’s Shakespearean meltdown of wealth and ego, good news: Show creator Jesse Armstrong is back, and his new project Mountainhead sounds like the next must-watch chapter in television’s rich-people-imploding cinematic universe.
Dropping May 31 on HBO, Mountainhead follows a group of billionaire friends who’ve gathered for an alpine getaway against the backdrop of a rolling international crisis. That’s the kind of logline that practically screams, “I brought my trauma and my private jet, too.” It’s like The White Lotus trading the beaches for a chalet, Patagonia vests, and global panic — rich-people rot, in its most remote, high-altitude form.
Based on the movie’s trailer below, Mountainhead appears to be set in a snowy, remote mountain resort — the kind of place where the walls are glass, the wi-fi is spotty, and the tension is thicker than the fog rolling in over the peaks. It’s secluded, luxurious, and emotionally hazardous — a billionaire’s hideaway where no one can truly unplug from their neuroses. The kind of setting, one can’t help but imagine, that would also be perfect for a Waystar Royco retreat after the billionaire foursome of Mountainhead leaves.
The cast of this HBO Original film includes Steve Carell Jason Schwartzman, Cory Michael Smith, and Ramy Youssef, and it was written and directed by Armstrong. Which is to say: With a cast this sharp and Armstrong behind the wheel, expect the dialogue to cut like a ski lift cable and the meltdowns to be as scenic as the setting.
Armstrong certainly skewers unchecked wealth as brutally as any creator working today. He doesn’t just mock the rich; he dissects them, peeling back their privilege to reveal insecurity, desperation, and the hollow scramble for relevance beneath the Rolexes. Whether it’s corporate boardrooms or mountaintop retreats, he has a gift for capturing the quiet horror of people who have everything but still want more. And for those of us who miss the delicious, dysfunctional spectacle of the Roys, this could be the next great televised meltdown we’ve been craving.
I dare say we can count on Mountainhead to deliver exactly what Armstrong does best — scene-chewing monologues, egos unraveling over aperitifs, and maybe even the delicious horror of a character realizing their entire identity is just wealth, wellness jargon, and a TED Talk playlist. A bunch of “Little Lord F*ckleroys,” playing masters of the universe.
