In 2022, Severance’s premier gave viewers an unconventional return to the office in a nearly post-pandemic world. Lumon, the show’s fictional company, operates under the unique premise that its workers have had their work lives surgically separated from their personal lives. The main cast, including Adam Scott, John Turturro, Britt Lower, and Zach Cherry, make up a sector of Lumon called Macrodata Refinement (MDR), a title with intentionally minimal meaning. The show quickly gained a cult fan base, reminiscent of Lost and Twin Peaks, with fans coming up with endless theories describing the show’s true meaning, from cloning experiments to an allegory for the Holocaust. It is impossible to fully discuss this series without mentioning spoilers, so it is best to experience it nearly blind. After nearly three years of impatience from fans, the second season of Severance released, taking bold risks while remaining “mysterious and important.”
Directed by Ben Stiller, Severance is no stranger to comedy. Both seasons balance dramatic scenes of grief and misery with jokes that poke fun at workplace idiosyncrasies. This balance is delicate, and is supported by the show’s strongest factors: its writing and cast. Each episode is written in such a way that each character directly contributes to the overall themes of grief, memory, and existentialism, all while the performances by the main cast of MDR ground the characters with incredible chemistry. While most performances in Severance are great, the highlights in both seasons are Britt Lower’s Helly R. and John Turturro’s Irving B. It is also worth noting that nearly every actor in the series is required, by its premise, to play two characters. This device is fascinating, and its intricacies are explored deeply in season 2, with increasing interaction between each worker’s “innie” and “outie” selves.
Visually, Severance is a masterpiece of world-building. Dark green retrofuturist cubicles contrast with perfectly white office walls, often drawing from both American and Scandinavian stylistic influences. The offices of the “severed floor” are meant to be cold and off-putting, yet in comparison to the wintry town outside, Kier, it feels warm. Outside shots of Kier are often expansive and sweeping, but the lighting creates a dull and morose atmosphere. Inside shots of Lumon are, by contrast, bright and claustrophobic. This is all the work of Jessica Lee Gangé, the show’s cinematographer, whose skills extended to directing her own episode. Gangé makes the show, which could be easily visually uninteresting, attention-grabbing and highly detailed.
Season 2 is unafraid to dive deeper into both its increasingly complicated plot and themes, but does so by taking several risks. New to the series are character study episodes, where everything from tone to cinematography changes. The first of these studies, episode seven, “Chikhai Bardo,” is a series highlight. However, the second study, episode eight, “Sweet Vitriol,” which centers around Patricia Arquette’s character Ms. Cobel, is perhaps a series low. What differentiates these two episodes is that the first answers questions held by the audience since the first season’s finale, while the second focuses on a character who viewers mainly had in the back of their minds, doing little to advance an otherwise fast-paced plot.
When watching Severance, surprise and confusion are much of the fun. As the mysteries of Lumon and MDR continue to unravel, some of the show’s mysticism begins to fade. However, in doing this, Severance seems to be avoiding fan disappointment. Season 2 is a bold departure from season 1, and with what is presumably the final season on its way, viewers must remember to enjoy each episode equally.