The transition of "The Idol" into the Sunday timeslot following the conclusion of "Succession" was not merely a jarring plummet in atmospheric pressure within the viewing community; it was also a stroke of unfortunate timing, arriving mere weeks before "The Righteous Gemstones," the true soulmate of "Succession," embarked on its third season. Both series share an essential kinship, centering on the escapades of three wealthy, inept, and failing offspring striving to seize control of their father's vast empire. Each is a bravado-laden, profanity-rich satire that skewers American avarice and exploitation. While the Roys might deem the Gemstones too vulgar for their Manhattan soirees, they prey upon the same flock: Picture countless Evangelicals perched on their couches, toggling between ATN news and the megachurch that discreetly deducts a monthly "tithe" from their bank accounts. The pressing question is whether the younger generation can maintain the money pipeline.
For "The Righteous Gemstones," this existential dilemma looms larger than it does for "Succession," as Waystar Royco can continue functioning without a Roy at the helm. However, the Gemstones' empire is a genuine family concern, meaning Jesse, Judy, or Kelvin – or some amalgamation of the trio – must succeed Eli as "America's Jesus Daddy." Season three opens with this vibrant, cool, yet flailing Gemstone trio desperately struggling to fill their father's shoes, despite their prior conviction that Eli was slowing down. (They share this commonality with the Roys as well.) Eli has yet to designate an heir, leaving his progeny as the televangelical world's Three Stooges, awkwardly stepping on each other's toes during Sunday services while angle-chasing in their personal time. With the thriving Zion resort resembling Ned Flanders's dream all-inclusive Caribbean getaway, new souls await salvation, and fresh revenue streams beckon this season.
The immediate quandary for the Gemstone siblings is the church's steep decline in attendance and donations since they assumed the reins from their father. Dismal poll numbers hint at their lack of charisma and ingenuity to reverse this trend. Amber attempts to bolster Jesse's spirits by likening their situation to Jay Leno's successful tenure after taking over from Johnny Carson on "The Tonight Show," following initial stumbles. (Jesse counters, "What if we're not Leno? What if we're just Conan?") Yet the episode hints that Amber might be the more spotlight-worthy of the pair: While Jesse broods, Amber transforms their Christian marriage-counseling sessions from last season into "The System," offering couples a path to "a blissful and God-approved marriage" at the modest price of $500 for a "starter kit," with presumably much more in store as they delve deeper into the program. (BJ's prowess in pitching auto-deducted tithing at the Welcome Center renders him more competent than his Gemstone spouse.)
At least Jesse seems focused on turning the tide. His siblings, however, are engrossed in their solo endeavors. Kelvin's penchant for inadvertently homoerotic youth-pastor duties persists with "Smut Busters," an army of youthful recruits he and Keefe have assembled to dismantle porn shops along the I-95 corridor by stealing their stock. This leads Kelvin and Keefe to marvel over foot-long dildos and other sex toys before consigning them to a toxic fire pit. ("The smoke from some of the butt plugs was green," gripes Keefe.) Meanwhile, Judy's five-state performance tour has propelled her into rock-star excess, dry-humping her guitarist twice and kissing him thrice, leaving her with a lingering sense of guilt for betraying BJ.
Like any politicians struggling to stay afloat, the Gemstones are compelled to first seek solace in their major financiers. During a typical, contentious family breakfast marked by heated exchanges, they receive the shocking news that one of their congregation's foremost contributors, an aged stock-car driver named Dusty Daniels (portrayed by Shea Whigham), has rescinded his support. Dusty had planned to bestow upon the church an estate valued at $200 million, along with the $30 million attached to his iconic slogan ("WhooWhee, Sucker!"), but laments that the church is no longer the same since Eli's departure. This loss prompts the siblings to head to the racetrack in a desperate bid to reclaim "The Slick Bandit." However, their attempts are thwarted by the Simkims, a group led by the charismatic Vance, played by Stephen Dorff, whose origins are far more compelling than theirs.
In a gesture of goodwill, Dusty grants the Gemstones an opportunity to settle their dispute with the Simkins through a stock-car race. But Jesse, a personification of unwarranted self-assurance, stalls his car and crashes it into the wall on the first curve, revealing that he is far more suited to being the next Jerry Falwell than the next Mario Andretti. The Righteous Gemstones skillfully establishes the Gemstones-Simkins rivalry, incorporating the mandatory act of violent stupidity that always emerges when Jesse feels cornered. Additionally, it provides Eli with a purpose in retirement beyond signing copies of his third autobiography and attending meetings of the "Cape and Pistol Society," an elite gathering of godly figures who smoke cigars and sip scotch like CEOs.
The opening sequence, which takes place at a Christian monster-truck rally in the year 2000, hints at a larger drama involving Eli and his estranged sister May-May (played by Kristen Johnson). May-May, who previously attempted to attack Eli's wife with a giant wrench at the rally, now approaches him with a favor. We are yet to unravel the intricacies of these relationships, but they speak volumes about Eli's dual identity as both a capitalist gangster and a true believer. Despite seeing only her violent act of hitting his beloved Aimee-Leigh with a wrench, Eli embarks on a quest for reconciliation and forgiveness. Played by John Goodman, an actor with a gentle voice and imposing presence, Eli embodies the kind of good pastor that Dusty Daniels envisions, while also possessing a capacity for causing harm that even a reckless thug like Jesse lacks. While Kelvin's smut patrol may be seizing dildos, his father is the true velvet hammer, wielding influence with both grace and force.
