Severance: A Study in Corporate Dystopia

From the moment Severance premiered on Apple TV+, it cemented itself as one of the most innovative and haunting shows in recent years. I finally sat down to watch the first season earlier this year, and I have to say, it left me impressed and excited for season 2.

The show’s unique premise, a workplace drama where employees undergo a procedure to separate their work and personal memories, was chilling and thought-provoking, offering a fresh take on corporate dystopia. Season 1 engrossed me through tension, mystery, and character development, so I anticipated the second season would answer my burning questions, like whether or not the characters find liberation from the corporate machine that has so thoroughly colonised their minds.

Season 1: A Perfect Balance of Mystery and Meaning

Created and directed by Dan Erickson and Ben Stiller, Severance Season 1 accomplished what few other shows have achieved. It showcased an original world that is both eerily familiar and disturbingly alien, presented in a deceptively simple way. The plot: employees at Lumon Industries can undergo a “severance” procedure that surgically divides their memories between their work and personal lives. Their “innie” selves exist only within the sterile confines of Lumon, while their “outie” selves do not know what happens during work hours.

One of the things that made Season 1 fantastic was its meticulous pacing. The show revealed its mysteries with deliberate restraint, peeling back layers of the corporate enigma just enough to keep me hooked without feeling rushed or unnecessarily delayed. The first episode throws you into the bizarre world of Lumon’s Macrodata Refinement department, where Mark (Played by Adam Scott), Helly (Britt Lower), Irving (John Turturro), and Dylan (Zach Cherry) spend their days sorting numbers into digital folders based on how the numbers “feel.” It is absurd! Disorienting yet immediately compelling.

The season builds tension skilfully as the characters begin to question their reality. When employee Helly tries desperately to quit but discovers her “outie” will not let her leave, it is an existential horror that this series does brilliantly. It forces viewers to confront uncomfortable questions about autonomy, identity, and the ethical boundaries of corporate power. It is a show that demonstrates how the mundane, like a workplace setting, can also be a psychological battleground where dread lies in the realisation that one’s very existence can be controlled by forces beyond reach.

Character Development and Performances

What truly elevated Season 1 was its commitment to character development amid its high-concept framework. Adam Scott delivered a career-defining performance as both versions of Mark Scout, the depressed, grief-stricken outie and the cheerfully oblivious innie, showing us how people can be fundamentally different by memory alone. The entire cast brought complexity to their dual roles, including Patricia Arquette, the unnerving manager Harmony Cobel, whose devotion to Lumon borders on religious fervour.

Dark Humour: The Ideal Counterbalance

One of my favourite aspects of Severance Season 1 was its brilliant use of dark humour, which added levity to its otherwise tense and eerie atmosphere. Irving and Dylan were particularly hilarious, often stealing scenes with their deadpan delivery and absurd reactions to the offbeat world of Lumon. Irving’s formal “English” demeanour and awkward attempts to bond with his coworkers were both cringe-worthy and laugh-out-loud funny. On the other hand, Dylan brought chaotic energy to the group, whether fiercely defending his coveted perks or hilariously reacting to the mundane horrors of office life.

Ben Stiller’s influence is evident in the show’s comedic timing and visual gags, blending his signature wit with darker themes. For instance, the absurdity of forcibly dancing to a corporate-approved song is classic Stiller; it is cringe and satirical. The ridiculous ways corporations infantilise their workers, using meaningless rewards to distract from the dehumanising nature of labour, certainly are laughable. While the humour in Season 1 felt organic and character-driven, this balance of comedy and existential dread made the first season so memorable.

Lumon and Scientology: Unmistakable Parallels

It is hard to discuss Severance without acknowledging its obvious parallels to organised religion, cults, or “blind faith”-type organisations. When watching season 1, what immediately came to mind was The Church of Scientology. Lumon’s corporate structure, with its founder Kier Eagan elevated to an almost deity-like status, mirrors Scientologists’ reverence for L. Ron Hubbard. Even the severance procedure itself can be seen as a version of Scientology’s “auditing” process, which seeks to separate people from their traumatic memories and negative emotions.

Lumon’s corporate handbook, filled with cryptic parables and rules, evokes some of Scientology’s doctrine and hierarchy of knowledge, which is only revealed to members as they ascend through the organisation’s levels. Additionally, severed employees are cut off from the outside world and indoctrinated into a system they cannot question, a form of isolation organisations recognise as a classic control tactic.

The “break room”, where employees are psychologically tortured until they recite apologies by rote, genuinely reminded me of the time I spent in the Church of Scientology of London, where I participated in the auditing process, a similar but less dramatic experience. The series might hint at or remind us of groups like the Church of Scientology or other structured organisations, like your average workplace. Nevertheless, it made me think more deeply about how groups and businesses ask for complete loyalty while not sharing their true motivations or agendas. This information asymmetry creates an imbalance where people surrender parts of themselves, whether that is time, energy or, in the case of Severance, continuity of consciousness, in exchange for belonging and purpose. There is a disturbing brilliance to this show, as it amplifies everyday dynamics into sinister scenarios that remain recognisable all the same.

Visual Mastery and The Architecture of Control

The visual language of Season 1 is an impressive and standout feature of the show, with stark, symmetrical compositions that emphasise the sterile, controlled environment of Lumon. The labyrinthine white hallways, the retro-futuristic technology, and the mid-century design create a timeless quality that makes Lumon feel like it exists outside everyday reality. This visual approach reinforced the show’s themes about control and the compartmentalisation of human experience. Season 2 elevates this visual artistry; the shift in cinematography style is even more striking than in the first season. The strategic use of colour, mainly blue, creates a visual motif that is beautiful and unbalancing. The colour scheme reinforces Lumon’s cold, clinical atmosphere while adding new layers of visual symbolism.

Surveillance and Power Dynamics

The surveillance aspects of Severance explore comparable themes to many dystopian narratives about corporate control. Much like the “surveillance spectacle” in Squid Game, Lumon Industries maintains order through elaborate monitoring systems that track workers’ every move. The severed floor’s sterile, maze-like environment with its endless white corridors serves as its own architecture of control, a physical manifestation of how the company disorients employees and strips away their agency.

The psychological manipulation goes beyond physical spaces, with rituals like the “break room” manufacturing compliance through fear rather than genuine consent. These calculated environments, from the deliberately juvenile MDR workspace to the childish office benefits, reinforce power dynamics and heighten the innies’ sense of vulnerability. Benefits, like the finger traps, waffle parties, and the music dance experience, are all designed to treat the severed workers like children. Workers will not always realise that they are ultimately being controlled when given fun little toys and treats. Just as Squid Game uses childlike colours and surrealist scaling to emphasise players’ powerlessness and inferiority, Severance employs clinical design elements and spatial disorientation to keep its characters in a perpetual state of psychological subjugation.

Check out my Squid Game review here.

Season 2: Ambition and Growing Pains

This new season maintains many of the first season’s strengths. That said, there were a few things I was not a fan of, which are common enough for a show in its second season.

The scope of the narrative has expanded significantly, and we learn more about the mysterious work done at Lumon. While this expansion of the world is necessary for the story’s progression, it occasionally dilutes the tight focus that made Season 1 so compelling.

New characters enter the mix, and existing side characters gain more prominence. Mark’s sister Devon, for instance, grows increasingly suspicious of Lumon after the events of Season 1. At the same time, her husband Ricken finds himself tempted by the company’s flattery and appeals to his ego. Where Ricken sees benevolence and opportunity, Devon sees only wiles and trickery. These expanded storylines create a richer tapestry, but sometimes at the cost of the laser-sharp focus on our core characters.

In this new season, Ms Cobel’s character is torn, grappling with her inner conflict and her loyalty to Lumon. Although this adds complexity, we see how quickly it diminishes some of the menace that made her an effective antagonist in the first season.

Mystery Elements and Storytelling Approach

The mystery elements have also evolved. Season 1 presented a well-rounded mystery, complex enough to be intriguing but with enough clues to let viewers piece together their own theories. Season 2’s mysteries sometimes feel either too obscure or too obvious. A more uneven approach to storytelling has replaced the careful balance of revelation and restraint that characterised the first season.

Bottle Episodes and Pacing

Fairly noticeable in the second half of the season, a couple of episodes feel more contained and slower-paced, focusing heavily on character moments rather than driving the plot forward. Even in some of those episodes, the narrative seemed lacking, as it gave a lot of backstory but never revealed the most important details the backstory was exploring. So, this shift in tone ends up disrupting the overall momentum of the season.

However, despite being a little thrown off by a few episodes feeling bottle-ish, I still found plenty to appreciate. These quieter moments allowed for deeper character exploration, allowing me to connect more intimately with the story.

The Loss of Humour and Humanity

Season 2 has many funny moments filled with wit, yet it never quite reaches the comic heights of Season 1. In its attempt to make everything bigger and more bizarre and give the characters more obvious purpose and drive, it sometimes loses the subtlety and spontaneity that made the first season so refreshing.

While still sharp, the humour is more hit-and-miss, as if the show is trying too hard to top itself rather than letting the comedy flow naturally. The first season had a deceptive simplicity and a winding nimbleness that, ironically, gave the story more focus and allowed its quirks to shine through. With more of a quest-focused Season 2 and dire stakes, not to mention so many plotlines to juggle, this season is never quite as balanced and tightly woven as the first.

Themes Across Both Seasons

Despite my reservations about certain aspects of Season 2, Severance remains one of the most thematically rich shows out there. Its exploration of work-life balance, corporate control, identity, and memory continues to resonate in both seasons.

The central concept of Severance is a powerful metaphor for the compartmentalisation many of us practise daily. We create work personas distinct from our home selves, compartmentalising stress and emotions to function in different environments. The show takes this common experience to its logical extreme. In Season 1, this metaphor was explored with precision, raising questions about the nature of self and the ethics of allowing companies to literally divide our consciousness for productivity’s sake. Season 2 continues this exploration but sometimes gets lost in its expansion.

Corporate Identity and Capitalism

The concept of corporate identity in this show raises unsettling questions about whether it is a byproduct of capitalism or an essential and inescapable part of it. Severance suggests that this fragmentation is not just a choice but a requirement for survival within a system that prioritises productivity over humanity. Like the players in Squid Game, who are forced to adopt a competitive, dehumanised persona to navigate the deadly challenges, the employees of Lumon must conform to their corporate identities to function within the system. The question I was left with was whether or not there is a way to reclaim wholeness in a world that thrives on dividing us.

In my Squid Game review, I discussed how the characters’ participation in the deadly competition felt inescapable, as they were trapped by their economic circumstances and the systemic pressures of capitalism. In Severance, the innies are trapped within Lumon’s walls, with no memory of their outies’ lives and no way to escape their corporate existence. Even the outies, who theoretically have freedom, are shown to be just as constrained by their need for financial stability and complicity in the system. The show’s chilling portrayal of corporate control suggests that, under capitalism, the erosion of individual identity is a feature of its design. Whether through brutal competition or psychological manipulation, both shows highlight how capitalism forces individuals to sacrifice their humanity in exchange for survival.

Trauma and Detachment

Lumon represents the ultimate evolution of the soulless corporation. The meaningless work, the childish rewards, the forced camaraderie, and the cultish devotion to company values are exaggerated versions of real workplace phenomena.

Memory and grief form another central theme that runs through both seasons. Mark’s outie chose Severance as an escape from the pain of losing his wife, which makes you think about whether forgetting traumatic events is healing or simply another form of self-harm. The show’s examination of free will versus fate remains engrossing, too. The innies’ struggle for autonomy against their outies’ choices and Lumon’s control creates a fascinating and layered exploration of agency.

What is also interesting is that Severance demonstrates how institutions can perpetuate and even weaponise trauma. The show can be seen as a story about the cost of dissociation and the compartmentalisation of pain. In reality, emotional wounds often need attention to heal. Therefore, awareness is key. True healing comes from recognition and understanding, and trying to separate yourself from your feelings can lead to more problems in the long run.

Season 3? Can the Truth Be Unsevered?

The show needs to maintain focus on its core characters and their emotional journeys. The individual focus on the main characters elevated season 1 above other high-concept sci-fi shows, so a potential season 3 should not get lost in just the mystery, even while the bigger story unfolds. I think the pacing needs to tighten up, with a more focused approach to storytelling that strikes a better balance between keeping us guessing and giving us satisfying answers. On top of that, I hope the show keeps its themes relatable and impactful instead of getting tangled up in complicated corporate lore. Ultimately, as a viewer, I am itching to find out whether the characters can put their fractured selves back together. Can they understand who they really are, both inside and outside Lumon, and make themselves whole again?

Ambitious Television Worth Watching!

What makes Severance special, even in its uneven moments, is its ambition. In a TV landscape increasingly dominated by predictability, Severance dares to build something different and ask uncomfortable questions about work, identity, and human connection. It trusts its audience to embrace complexity and ambiguity, to engage with ideas rather than just plot twists.

The journey from Season 1’s brilliance to Season 2’s restyling reminds me how difficult it is to maintain excellence in TV storytelling. Severance may not have cleared my high bar with its second season yet, but even its growing pains are more interesting than most shows’ final products.