For four seasons, Myha’la has convincingly portrayed a character whose mind moves faster than everyone else’s. Almost in a Clooney-like fashion, there is something naked about Myha’la’s performance in how her character’s emotions are laid bare, but she holds the audience in the palm of her hand with her magnetism and cool.

In Season 3, Harper wonders aloud if she’s a sociopath; and in Season 4, the biggest challenge to Downs and Kay’s underlying thesis — that no one’s humanity can survive in this world in which every relationship is transactional — would seem to be Harper’s self-awareness.

In the last scene of Season 4, it’s clear (in Don Draper-like fashion) she’ll never change her stripes in her financial pursuits, but simultaneously, we watch her play protective big sister to her team and possibly maintain her first intimate relationship with Kwabena (Toheeb Jimoh), reflecting she’s actually emotionally grown.

I understand the awards logic of not pitting Abela against Myha’la in the Lead Actress category, but one of the most important things Down and Kay did in Season 3 was build out the backstory and build up the character of Yasmin, allowing them to lean into Abela’s under-utilized talents and give the series a tragic storyline to parallel that of Myha’la’s Harper Stern.

In Season 4, Yasmin’s empathy continues to slowly drain from her soul, as she commits acts of increasingly reprehensible darkness. The writing is exceptional, but it’s only made possible by Abela’s ability to authentically reflect her character’s interiority, allowing us to understand each tragic turn she makes. It’s a star-in-the-making role.

If there is a no-brainer on this list, it would be Leung, coming off a Season 4 story arc that came to a dramatic conclusion in Episode 6 (“Dear Henry”), that gave TV it’s iconic image (Eric walking away from camera as the credits rolled) and needle drop (Judy Collins’ “Both Sides Now”) of 2026, while setting the internet ablaze with a twist that cracked the story wide open.

In Season 4, Kay and Down set Eric on the path to redemption, only for his id to bring him to his knees with his most devastating fall from grace yet. To recount Eric’s inexcusable acts is to paint a picture of a despicable beast, but in Leung’s hands, each time one of his character’s deep flaws rears its ugly head, it oddly makes him that much more relatable, human, and, somehow, lovable. 

For Minghella, playing a whipsmart tech founder, one step ahead of everyone else while holding his cards close to his vest, is right in the actor’s wheelhouse. But Whitney Hallstrom is an intentionally and necessarily enigmatic character, and what Minghella breathes into that grey is impressive. In the cracks of what grows to assume is a calculating sociopath, we catch brief, subtle moments that allow us to see beyond the con, revealing he’s actually Damocles with a sword dangling over his head.

In the first five episodes, characters poke for answers, as the shape of Whitney’s con slowly takes shape, but it’s not until Episode 6 that we’re given a real glimpse behind the curtain. The success of the season pivots on that tricky execution, and the device of Whitney writing Henry a letter is not only brilliant, but it’s also brilliantly executed. At first, it feels like voiceover — are we finally getting Whitney’s inner thoughts?! — but soon we realize it’s just part of the con.

Kay and Down over-write and over-shoot, resulting in rough cuts that need to be scaled back by 30 to 50 percent to produce the lean 60-minute episodes. Put that in context of the ambitious “Dear Henry” episode, in which the season takes flight, makes hairpin turns, and becomes something entirely different, and the audience is kept on the edge of its seat — the perfect vehicle to recognize the “Industry” post-production team.

As is common for a Season 4, “Industry” added marquee guest stars for the new storylines, with Shipka, Minghella, Jimoh, and Charlie Heaton being pitch-perfect selections. But it’s in how Harkin fleshes out these worlds that lends authenticity and heft. The roster of guest stars is deep, with each adding nuance and intrigue to their storylines — Nico Rogner as Tender’s swarmy Russian plant, Stephen Campbell Moore as Tender’s man in Africa, David Wilmot as the grizzled, earnest editor, Pip Torrens as the tabloid henchman, Edward Holcroft as the smooth far-right politician, while Amy James-Kelly and Chloe Pirrie capture fresh face and old hat of Labour.

When Nathan Micay was brought onto Season 1, he was fairly new to film and TV scores, but the Berlin-based (via Canada) DJ and electronic music producer’s expansive and atmospheric sound was the perfect musical accompaniment for a story of young traders breaking into the cutthroat world of London finance, as his synth and strings score became the expression of the emotion they must coldly bury.

Similar to Tangerine Dream’s “Risky Business” score (a direct influence), the “Industry” music not only captures their heartbreak but also their youthful, wide-eyed excitement at being exposed to the decadent, behind-closed-doors world of the rich and powerful.

From a purely hustle and negotiation standpoint, White deserves recognition for securing four seasons of A+ needle drops on what was, at least for the first three seasons, HBO’s least expensive show. In Season 4, pre-existing songs are far more than headbob-inducing hits, capturing the energy and spirit of the series, as Down, Kay, White, and the editorial team turn pop songs into musical themes for individual episodes.

In episode 6, “Both Sides Now” carries and unites the episode’s regretful emotional undercurrent. In episode 7, Daft Punk’s “Veridis Quo” becomes a requiem to Yasmin and Harper’s youth, as their lives take sharp turns into a new phase of adulthood. But it is in the season finale that “Industry” deviates from pop, and finds tracks like Jacques Brel’s “Ne me quitte pas” — playing over the end of Yasmine’s party as Harper makes her dramatic exit — that capture the aching sorrow.

It is hard to point to a 2025-2026 contemporary costuming job that was more expressive and fun than this season of “Industry.” As Yasmin and Harper have become more complex and wealthy adults, their clothes embody not only their sophistication but also the layers of their character. 

With all due respect to Down and Kay’s successful move into directing, it is Luke Snellin’s work in episode 6 that is most deserving of awards recognition. Time and again in “Dear Henry,” Snellin finds the perfect staging and compositions to capture the expressive subtlety of the episode’s big moments. From Whitney’s hand in Henry’s hair at the gloryhole, to the awkward triangle after Henry’s shower, to our private glance of Whitney baring his true self at the embankment, or Yasmin holding back her shock at Haley telling her the truth, it’s an episode of big moments kept in perfect balance, topped off by a virtuoso last shot (photo above).