The Roys were supposed to be on their best behavior. Heading into dinner at the home of the Pierce family, from whom they’re aggressively attempting to purchase the media company PGM, Logan and his progeny’s objective is to make it through the evening without doing anything that could jeopardize the potential deal.

But as much as the brood try, they can’t keep their worst impulses caged. One by one during an extravagant meal in “Tern Haven,” the fifth episode of the second season of Succession, the Roys reveal their true selves. For cinematographer Christopher Norr, staging and filming the key scene was a painstakingly fun process. The run time of the sequence is about 15 minutes, but it took at least two days to shoot. “The most exhaustion is on the actors,” Norr says, “because it’s a long scene to go through over and over.”

Tern Haven—the Pierces’ “funny little house,” as Cherry Jones’s matriarch, Nan, nauseatingly calls it—is actually the “Salutation” House, a 48-acre property on a private island near Glen Cove, New York, that was also used as the setting of the 1995 remake of Sabrina. The massive property gave Norr an immediate advantage in framing the clash of clans. “It’s a great location because there’s a lot of places to hide the crew,” Norr says. “And sometimes that’s the problem: It’s a great location but where do you put everyone?”

As the mid-episode scene unfolds, Norr’s goal was to create tension by first capturing the vacuous enormity of the dining room before gradually closing in on the action. “It started off more objective,” Norr says. “The cameras were a little further away but using long lenses. So it gave a sense that we were looking in on the dinner. And we progressed in so therefore at the very last act ... the cameras were physically right on their backs. Basically, you’re surrounding the table with cameras, so it felt more intimate, more subjective to whatever character we were over.”

Right before the meal begins, there’s a brief visit to the kitchen, where chef Rosa takes a massive roast out of the oven and hands it to Nan. Nan then brings out the hunk of meat, curtsies, and is treated to a round of applause. As that ass-kissing is happening, the camera briefly focuses on a straight-faced Rosa, who’s still standing in the doorway of the dining room, watching all of the credit for her hard work go to someone else. It’s a small moment, but it serves to show the audience that the Pierces are, despite their outwardly pleasant demeanor and more palatable politics, just as cutthroat as their guests. “These people have a different level of wealth,” Norr says. “Like the Roys, but in a slightly different direction.”

At one point, Norr recalls, there was talk of putting Nan at the head of the table. Instead she ended up in the middle. “It’s more like The Last Supper kind of scenario,” Norr says. Director Mark Mylod and writer Will Tracy devised the seating chart carefully, thus ensuring maximum juicy interactions among the characters. In a row on one side are Naomi Pierce, Frank, Logan, Marcia, and Tom; on the other are Connor, Kendall, PGM CEO Rhea Jarrell, Nan, Shiv, and Roman. For story purposes, placement is important.

Take, for example, Nan’s position. Aside from being in the middle like a liberal media elite Jesus, she’s directly across from Logan, her counterpart, and diagonal from the initially sale-averse Naomi, with whom, we’re reminded when they join hands, she’s very close. Naomi is also opposite Kendall. After Naomi says grace, a quote from Shakespeare’s Richard II that begins, “The purest treasure mortal times afford is spotless reputation,” the two start to bond over their shared struggles with substance use. Kendall, who claims to be in recovery even though he’s not, is unsurprisingly drawn to another person struggling with addiction.

Next there are a handful of light moments, like Roman’s making up a novel called The Electric Circus when asked to recommend a non–Oprah’s Book Club title; Connor’s dismissing Mark Linn-Baker’s Brookings Institution–employed foil’s opinion by saying, “It’s just the sort of expert analysis I’d expect from a deep-state wonk with both lips firmly glued to the Soros teat”; and Shiv’s apologizing to Pierce family member Mark for teasing him about his decision to pursue multiple PhDs—as the camera drifts to Logan, scowling as he chews his food.

Soon the fun really begins. After Nan asks Shiv whether she’s pleased to get out of the dirty business of politics, Rhea (Holly Hunter), interrupts: “Made dirtier by a certain cable news behemoth.” As Nan smirkingly tells her to play nice, Rhea replies, “We can discuss the white nationalist elephant in the room, can’t we? Tug on its trunk a bit?” Rhea, who, unlike most of the people there, is not part of either family, is a wild card to Norr. “Her character was very new to me so I was learning as we went along,” he says. “Sometimes on the written page it’s not as clear. … It’s kind of weird when she’s playing both sides of the fence a little bit.”

Rhea’s calculated verbal grenade sets off an exchange pitting the Roys, who own unabashedly right-wing network ATN, against the Pierces, whose company PGM is far more high-minded. By then, the pleasantries of the beginning of the meal have given way to tense moodiness. That was on purpose. “I kind of wanted it to feel like a darker, intimate moment,” Norr says.

As the powerful families’ egos collide, attention turns to Tom, who’s recently been put in charge of Waystar Royco’s global news division. As he’s repeatedly insulted and thrown under the bus by the Pierces and Logan, respectively, the camera cuts to the right-wing ogre’s face (his words) as his expressions become more and more infected by worry. When he can’t take it anymore, he deflects by turning his attention to the spinach.

Which leads to the only respite from the dinner table we’re given, as a damaged Tom and Shiv excuse themselves—to Nan’s amusement—under the guise of concern over their sick dog Mondale. (Shiv claims the pooch has a virus. Tom says it has arthritis.) The camera, which is perched high on the house’s steep staircase, catches an in-crisis Shiv and Tom circling each other.

“He’s got me second-guessing myself. I’m wavering on the best strategy on a deal that I don’t even like,” Shiv admits. “I really want this,” she adds, as the camera captures the perfectly pained expression on her face. To Norr, the focus on Logan’s only daughter is deliberate. “I wanted to have an emphasis on Shiv to foreshadow her kind of stepping to the plate and her surprise,” he says, “which is slowly kind of felt throughout the episode.”

After Shiv and Tom return to dinner, Nan asks Logan about the possibility of Waystar Royco being the target of a takeover, and if the Roys’ internal squabbles have been settled. He easily diffuses the prodding until Nan asks whether he’s chosen a successor. As the cagey magnate avoids answering, the camera quickly passes by Shiv, who looks like she’s trying to contain a giant smile.

The episode has been building to this moment. “There’s so much pre-dinner before Shiv kind of bursts the bubble for everyone and announces the secret,” Norr says. Over Marcia and Logan’s shoulders, the camera zooms in on an increasingly anxious, reeling Shiv.

“For fuck’s sake, Dad,” Shiv says blurts out after a painful stretch of hemming and hawing. “Just tell them it’s gonna be me.” The camera cuts to a speechless Logan, then Roman, then Kendall, then back to Shiv, who seems to immediately grasp what she’s done. “Is that so?” Nan asks. “That is so,” Shiv replies, now demurely.

Finally, after a meal’s worth of simmering tension, anxiety, and high-stakes pressure, the drama boils over. For the whole meal, Logan sat with a clenched jaw, but Shiv’s outburst takes the dinner too far off script, and when Marcia asks whether Shiv was being serious, Logan snaps: “Would you stop?!” he yells at his wife. It’s a rare outburst from Logan, who’s never one to show his ass. But the reaction highlights the underlining point: “We’re all dealing with stupid rich people that are greedy and selfish,” Norr says.

Breaking the awkward silence, Nan suggests that everyone should go stargazing. Tom gets up from the table, Kendall finishes off his wine; as members of both families continue to file out, the camera sticks with Shiv as she stays in her seat. Soon, after the camera follows the organized chaos of the room clearing, just the father and daughter remain.

“We tried to implement stillness when she’s alone with Logan, even though the camera’s moving,” Norr says, “but after all the cutting and the activity of the camera, we used stillness … to dramatize it even more.”

While Shiv can’t bring herself to make eye contact with her father, he begins to clink his glass with his right index finger. “Shall we?” he asks, before walking off screen. The camera finally zooms in on Shiv, who’s standing still and staring straight ahead. In the end, they’re both alone.

Disclosure: HBO is an initial investor in The Ringer.