Severance: A Mind-Bending Workplace Horror We Can’t Clock Out Of
By Trinity Barnette
I Had to Watch Severance Twice—But Now I’m Obsessed
The first time I watched Severance, I was… bored. There, I said it. As much as it had everything going for it—stellar actors, smart writing, haunting cinematography, and a genius concept—I couldn’t get past how unentertaining the “important and mysterious work” (Mark Scout’s words, not mine) actually felt.
Despite all that, I still watched both seasons. Maybe I was bored in real life too, or maybe part of me knew it was worth sticking with. But it wasn’t until the season 2 finale—when everything snapped into place in the most chaotic, brilliant way—that I finally understood what everyone else had been raving about.
So I watched it again. And this time, I got it.
The Setup: A World Split in Two
At the heart of Severance lies a hauntingly sterile world where the line between work and personal life isn’t just blurred—it’s surgically severed. Employees at Lumon Industries undergo a procedure that splits their consciousness into two distinct personas: the “innie,” who exists solely within the confines of the workplace, and the “outie,” who remains oblivious to their work life.
We follow Mark Scout (Adam Scott), a grieving widower who opts for the severance procedure to escape the pain of his wife’s death during work hours. Promoted to lead the Macrodata Refinement (MDR) team, Mark introduces us to a department where employees sort enigmatic numbers based on intuition—a task as perplexing as it is monotonous. The purpose of this work is shrouded in mystery, much like the company’s true intentions.
The narrative gains momentum with the arrival of Helly (Britt Lower), a new recruit whose innie is desperate to escape, leading to a series of failed attempts and a growing sense of entrapment. Her struggle underscores the ethical quandaries of the severance procedure and sets the stage for a deeper exploration of identity and autonomy.
The Slow Burn: Monotony with a Purpose
Initially, the show’s deliberate pacing and focus on the mundane aspects of office life can feel stifling. The repetitive tasks, the impersonal interactions, and the oppressive atmosphere might seem like a slow crawl through tedium. However, this is a calculated move by the creators.
The early episodes immerse viewers in the innies’ reality—a world devoid of context, history, or future. This immersion fosters empathy for characters who are essentially blank slates, experiencing life in a vacuum. The monotony isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a narrative device that amplifies the characters’ yearning for meaning and connection.
As the series progresses, the cracks in Lumon’s facade begin to show. The innies’ growing awareness, the enigmatic presence of Harmony Cobel (Patricia Arquette), and the unsettling discoveries about the company’s operations inject a sense of urgency and intrigue. The initial boredom transforms into a gripping exploration of control, freedom, and the human spirit’s resilience.
The Masterful Portrayals: Identity, Control, and Capitalist Horror
Once you push past the slow burn (and trust me, it is worth the push), Severance starts unfolding like a psychological thesis paper wrapped in a workplace satire and dipped in sci-fi horror. Every detail—the sterile lighting, the echoing hallways, the way the camera lingers a second too long—works to trap you in Lumon alongside the innies. But this isn’t just smart set design. It’s a full-blown metaphor for how companies dehumanize people in the name of “efficiency.”
Identity as a Prison (and a Privilege)
The entire concept of the severance procedure begs the question: who are you when your memories and motivations are split in half? What’s more ethical—knowing your trauma or being blissfully unaware of it? For the innies, every day is their first day. No past, no outside relationships, no consent. And yet… they still develop loyalty, grief, rebellion, and love. Their identities form anyway. Severance dares to suggest that the self can’t be suppressed—not forever, anyway.
Corporate Control Dressed as Kindness
Lumon doesn’t just own your time—they own you. The work-life balance is so extreme that it borders on dystopian horror. But it’s delivered through smiling faces, wellness checks, finger traps as rewards, and creepy pseudo-spirituality around “the founder.” It’s corporate exploitation wrapped in pastel packaging, and that’s exactly the point. The workplace becomes a cult, not just a job—and the employees are its disciples, whether they know it or not.
Grief, Escapism, and Emotional Amputation
Mark chooses severance to avoid grieving his wife. But severing your emotions doesn’t eliminate them—it just buries them deeper. That’s the horror of the outies: they think they’re escaping pain, while their innies suffer silently. It’s a chilling metaphor for how many of us try to compartmentalize trauma, dissociate from stress, or fake our way through 9-to-5s just to keep going. The show says: “What if that disconnection was literal?” And then it shows you exactly how soul-crushing it would be.
Resistance, Rebellion, and the Cost of Waking Up
The most heartbreaking part of Severance is how aware the innies slowly become. Once they get a glimpse of freedom—real connection, real information, real autonomy—they can’t go back. But the system is designed to make escape impossible. Watching Helly, Mark, Irving, and Dylan attempt to break out isn’t just suspenseful—it’s tragic. Because in the real world, fighting back against oppressive systems doesn’t come without consequence either.
Character Rankings & Breakdown
Mark Scout (Adam Scott)
Mark serves as the emotional core of Severance, portraying both the grieving outie and the innie seeking purpose. His duality offers a profound exploration of identity and loss.
Seth Milchick (Tramell Tillman)
Milchick’s enigmatic presence and unwavering commitment to Lumon make him a compelling character. His interactions oscillate between cordiality and menace, adding layers to his role.
Dylan George (Zach Cherry)
Dylan provides much-needed levity amidst the show’s tension. His loyalty to the MDR team and pivotal actions, especially in the season finales, highlight his significance.
Helly R. (Britt Lower)
Helly’s resistance to the severance procedure and her evolution from defiance to leadership underscore the show’s themes of autonomy and rebellion.
Gemma / Ms. Casey (Dichen Lachman)
Gemma’s dual existence as Mark’s wife and Lumon’s wellness counselor adds a haunting depth to the narrative, emphasizing the emotional toll of severance.
Irving Bailiff (John Turturro)
Irving’s meticulous nature and poignant relationship with Burt offer a touching exploration of love and identity within the confines of Lumon.
Harmony Cobel / Mrs. Selvig (Patricia Arquette)
Cobel’s dual roles as Lumon’s overseer and Mark’s neighbor blur the lines between surveillance and genuine care, embodying the show’s themes of control.
Ms. Huang (Audrey Bennett)
Though not as prominently featured, Ms. Huang’s presence contributes to the overarching atmosphere of corporate oversight and conformity.
Burt Goodman (Christopher Walken)
Burt’s relationship with Irving provides a rare glimpse of warmth and connection, emphasizing the human need for companionship even in sterile environments.
Visual Aesthetics & Symbolism: The Office as a Prison, the Hallway as a Maze
Severance isn’t just smart—it’s stunning. And not in the traditionally beautiful, cinematic way. The beauty here lies in the sterile discomfort of it all. The wide, empty hallways. The monochrome color palette. The brutalist architecture that looms overhead like a silent enforcer. Every frame is intentional, and it all contributes to the central theme: control.
The Office Isn’t Just a Setting—It’s a Character
Lumon’s office space is designed like a psychological maze: windowless, symmetrical, and isolating. You’re not meant to know where you are or where you’re going. The green carpet? Repetitive and artificial. The break room? More like a cult interrogation center. Even the lighting feels emotionally numbing—harsh in some scenes, depressingly dull in others.
The Hallways = Your Subconscious
Long corridors, endless turns, and constant backtracking serve as a visual metaphor for the innies’ emotional entrapment. They’re literally and metaphorically lost—searching for meaning, direction, and identity in a world that doesn’t want them to have any.
Symbolism Everywhere
Finger Traps = Childlike manipulation masquerading as reward
Goats = Innocence? Sacrifice? A strange symbol of something primal that Lumon may be experimenting with
The Elevator = The ultimate border between selves. Once you enter it, you’re no longer you.
Even the Costumes Tell a Story
The outfits are bland, muted, uniform. Designed to strip away individuality. But the real brilliance is in how the actors use their body language and micro-expressions to communicate everything the outfits suppress.
Spoiler Warning: From Here On Out, We’re Clocking Into Full Disclosure
If you haven’t watched Severance—or haven’t made it to the Season 2 finale—this is your last chance to clock out. Because we’re diving headfirst into the twists, the heartbreaks, and the chaos that made the second watch impossible to look away from.
Standout Moments That Changed Everything
Helly’s “Suicide Is a Rebellious Act” Scene (Season 1)
This moment set the tone: Severance is not playing around. Helly’s sheer desperation to escape—even if it means ending her life—crystallized just how unethical the entire severance system is. It was the first time we truly felt the horror of being “born” into a life with no say.
Petey’s Reintegration & Death
Petey’s tragic arc introduced the concept of reintegration—and its terrifying consequences. His death, shaking and confused, proved that trying to stitch your innie and outie back together could literally break your mind. It also forced Mark to confront the reality he was trying to avoid.
Dylan’s Hero Moment (Season 1 Finale)
Let’s talk about that moment: Dylan holding the two levers, veins bulging, sweat dripping, risking everything so the others could wake up as their outies. It was intense, heroic, and solidified him as the unexpected MVP of Season 1.
Season 1 Ending Bombshells
Helly is Helena Eagan—yes, that Eagan.
Irving has been tracking employees and keeping secrets in his closet.
Mark’s wife Gemma is alive—and she’s Ms. Casey at Lumon. This triple-whammy ending is what flipped the entire show upside down and launched us into Season 2 with a thousand questions and an aching need for answers.
Season 2 Finale:
The Moment It All Hit Me
You mentioned the Season 2 finale is what finally got you hooked—and honestly? Same.
Mark Screaming “She’s Alive!”
That final shot of Season 2: Mark, blinking into his outie consciousness, realizing Gemma’s not dead—and yelling “She’s alive!” right as he’s about to be cut off. It’s goosebump material. The kind of moment that forces a rewatch, because now you’re in it. You care. You’re obsessed.
Irving’s Emotional Breakdown at Burt’s Door
Irving’s love story was the quiet heartbreak of the series. Watching him show up at Burt’s door, full of hope and nerves, only to see Burt has moved on… it was brutal. Tender and tragic. And it reminded us that these innies are real people with real feelings—even if they only exist 9-to-5.
Helly Going Rogue at the Gala
Seeing Helly (as Helena) speak at a Lumon event, then glitch into innie mode and try to expose the company live on stage, was one of the most satisfying moments in the series. The stakes were finally tangible, and the rebellion was loud.
The Goats. The Basement. The Cult of Lumon.
Season 2 finally leaned into the conspiracy horror of Lumon’s true goals. The goats. The surgical experiments. The sacred texts. It’s giving corporate cult meets sci-fi mind control, and I’m not mad about it.
Why Severance Is One of the Most Brilliant Shows Ever Made
Once you get it, you get it. Severance isn’t just a smart show—it’s a rare kind of genius that lingers in your mind like a dream you’re still trying to interpret. What makes it so brilliant isn’t just the twisty plot or stunning visuals. It’s the way it weaponizes stillness, silence, and simplicity to say something massive about humanity, labor, and grief.
It Doesn’t Spoon-Feed You—It Trusts You to Think
This show is the opposite of mindless. It respects your intelligence and your patience. It rewards close watching. It hides clues in dialogue, symbolism in background items, and character motives under layers of emotional restraint. It’s the kind of show that’s still revealing things the second (or third) time around.
It Reinvents the Workplace Genre Into Psychological Horror
You’ve seen office dramas. You’ve seen dystopian thrillers. But you’ve never seen a break room treated like a place of psychological torture, or a wellness check that feels like a cult ritual. Severance reimagines the mundane as menacing, and suddenly even an office party feels like a horror set piece.
It Captures the Emotional Reality of Dissociation and Trauma
This is where the show hits hardest. It doesn’t just ask “What if you split your mind in two?”—it shows you what it feels like to live like that. Emotionally. Mentally. Functionally. People dissociate all the time to survive stress or trauma. Severance turns that into a literal procedure and forces us to confront what we’re sacrificing when we choose numbness over healing.
It Doesn’t Tell You What’s Right—It Asks If You’re Okay With It
Instead of shouting its message, it whispers, “What would you do?” Would you sever yourself to escape grief? Would you fight back if you were born into a world where you only existed to work? Would you trust a company with your entire consciousness? The horror here is quiet—but it’s real.
SPOILER’S AHEAD
Season 3 Predictions (aka Theories That Might Fry My Brain)
Now that Severance has officially hooked me, I’m in too deep not to speculate. Season 3 is set up to explode—emotionally, ethically, and narratively. So here are my biggest predictions (and chaotic hopes):
Mark Will Become a Problem. In a Good Way.
He’s no longer the grieving, compliant puppet. Now he knows Gemma is alive—and being exploited by Lumon. We’re about to see Outie Mark fight for answers, and Innie Mark possibly spiral when he realizes his whole existence is built on a lie. Dual breakdown incoming.
Helly’s Family Drama Is Just Getting Started
Helly R being Helena Eagan means we’re entering full Succession territory. Family legacy, rebellion, public scandal… and a woman trying to destroy the system her family built from inside it. Season 3 better give her the stage to burn it all down.
Milchick Will Snap
He’s too calm. Too loyal. Too… smiley. I’m convinced Milchick is either going to defect, reveal a deeper personal agenda, or become a major threat when things unravel. Either way, he’s not just an obedient employee. He’s a wildcard.
Ms. Casey / Gemma = Key to Everything
She’s the intersection between Mark’s grief and Lumon’s experiments. The fact that she’s both dead and alive raises major ethical (and possibly supernatural?) questions. Is she being cloned? Reanimated? Memory-wiped? I don’t know—but she’s the missing piece.
The Goats. We Need Answers.
I don’t care how absurd it sounds—if those goats don’t get a full storyline next season, I will riot.
Final Reflections: What Severance Taught Me
I almost didn’t give this show a second chance—and I’m so glad I did.
Severance is a slow, surgical descent into one of the most terrifying concepts imaginable: that your life could be split in half, and someone else could be living in your body… suffering in silence. It’s about more than work. It’s about consent. Memory. Grief. Identity. Autonomy. Healing. Capitalism. Control. It’s not just TV—it’s a thesis on the human condition, disguised as a 9-to-5.
And for me, it’s personal. I’ve spent my own life trying to compartmentalize pain, reinvent myself, and find purpose in places that weren’t always safe. Watching Severance felt like holding up a mirror to the parts of myself I thought I buried—but that still cry out when no one’s watching.
So if you’ve tried and tapped out? Try again. Season 2 changed everything for me. And if Season 3 delivers on the chaos it’s building toward, Severance won’t just be one of the best shows on TV—it’ll be one of the most important.
