Rupert Murdoch and the Netflix Succession Mirror: A Family Trust Battle Framed as Politics

In a new four-part Netflix documentary, rupert murdoch is presented less as a distant patriarch and more as the gravitational force bending every sibling rivalry into a single question: who gets to control “even more billions” when he is gone, and for what political purpose.
What does the series claim is really being decided beyond money?
The docuseries Dynasty: the Murdochs uses a familiar pop-culture shorthand—one participant quips that to explain the Murdochs, you have to understand the television show Succession—then leans into that comparison by mapping the eldest Murdoch siblings onto fictional counterparts. The framing is not subtle: the tone and scoring borrow the language of prestige drama, while the material itself is a catalogue of nepotism and intrafamily maneuvering.
Yet the clearest assertion running through the documentary is that the family fight is being treated as a proxy for ideological control. The central “succession shenanigans” are intercut with a compressed history of rupert murdoch’s rise to media influence and political leverage. The documentary depicts “populist, right-leaning” revamps of titles including the News of the World and the New York Post, a political endorsement of Ronald Reagan, and the claim that Reagan-era deregulation enabled the launch of the Fox network. It also describes a later U-turn toward Donald Trump when Trump appeared likely to win power, despite the documentary’s inclusion of a profane remark Murdoch had reportedly used about Trump earlier.
Viewed together, the documentary’s organizing premise is that succession is not only about inheritance. It is about whether the underlying business continues to operate in the interests of conservative politics, or whether a more liberal direction could gain influence inside the family structure.
What is “Project Family Harmony, ” and why does it matter?
The most consequential claim in the documentary concerns a secret plan described as “Project Family Harmony. ” The documentary presents it as an effort by Rupert Murdoch and son Lachlan Murdoch to change a family trust in a way that would nullify the siblings’ equal voting rights after Rupert Murdoch’s death, consolidating control with Lachlan Murdoch.
The documentary’s stated rationale for the plan is explicitly political: keeping the business operating in the interests of conservative politics and preventing James Murdoch from pulling it in a more liberal direction. In the documentary’s telling, the trust structure is not just a legal mechanism; it is the valve controlling the ideological output of an empire.
This is where the series’ glossy “Succession” parallel becomes something more pointed. A trust fight can sound like a private, technical dispute. But the documentary positions it as a method of shaping what the empire will prioritize—and who will have the power to make those calls when the patriarch is no longer there to overshadow the rest.
Who is speaking in the documentary—and who is not?
A notable feature of the series is the absence of direct participation from the Murdoch family. The documentary states that the Murdochs declined to be interviewed. In place of family testimony, it draws on longtime journalists who have profiled the Murdochs, archive material, and accounts from current and former employees. It also includes a cameo by actor Hugh Grant, who calls Rupert Murdoch “a proper danger to liberal democracies. ”
The inclusion of insiders is used to bring viewers “into the belly of the beast” during major scandals associated with Murdoch properties. The documentary includes testimony from alumni of and the News of the World around their respective sexual harassment and phone hacking scandals. It also features a recollection from former News of the World reporter Paul McMullan about then-editor Rebekah Brooks, describing her moving through the office tossing articles while declaring, “This is shit. This is shit!”
Alongside these institutional episodes, the documentary leans on smaller domestic anecdotes meant to humanize—and sometimes incriminate—its central figure: cheating at family Monopoly; observing what women on the tube were reading early in his career; and the suggestion that Rupert Murdoch ignored his young children so often that James Murdoch thought his father was going deaf. It also includes what is described as a “jaw-dropping” claim about Rupert Murdoch’s second wife being involved in a fatal car incident, while noting there is “seemingly no trace” of that story.
Because the family does not participate on camera, the documentary’s authority rests heavily on these intermediaries, their access, and the archival record presented. That structure is also the source of its tension: it offers intimacy through others’ recollections while leaving the principals’ direct rebuttals or confirmations off-screen.
What does the documentary’s framing suggest—verified fact versus informed analysis?
Verified within the documentary’s own presentation: The series is described as a four-part Netflix documentary directed by Liz Garbus. It covers Rupert Murdoch’s beginnings through the “crowning” of Lachlan Murdoch as successor. It includes commentary from named chroniclers Gabriel Sherman and Matthew Belloni, and includes Hugh Grant. It depicts past scandals at and the News of the World, and uses archival material and interviews with employees and alumni. It asserts a plan—“Project Family Harmony”—to change a family trust and alter equal voting rights after Rupert Murdoch’s death.
Informed analysis based on the documentary’s stated themes: The series’ most provocative contribution is not new biographical detail but an argument about motive. It portrays succession not as a neutral corporate question but as a deliberate attempt to lock in a political direction, effectively turning family governance into a tool of ideological continuity. That claim matters because it repositions audience attention away from personality clashes and toward structural power: who can vote, who can veto, and who can define the empire’s posture in the years after Rupert Murdoch.
The documentary also exposes a contradiction in its own dramatic approach. It borrows the hooks of prestige fiction to keep viewers engaged, yet it concludes in a gloomier register: an “exhausting if exhaustive” record of nepotism that can feel difficult to be enthused about. That is the series’ uncomfortable endpoint—an invitation to watch, paired with an argument that what is being watched is deeply corrosive.
For viewers seeking clarity, the series offers a sharp, narrow focal point: a trust, an alleged plan to change it, and the implication that the plan is designed to protect a political orientation. Whatever one thinks of the entertainment framing, the documentary insists the stakes are real, and that the struggle over rupert murdoch’s succession is being treated inside the family as a fight over much more than inheritance.



