‘Severance’ is the most creative show in the Outie world
Why did I wait so long to watch this series?
For some inexplicable reason, I only just finished watching season one of Severance. I say inexplicable because this Apple TV+ series has “made for James” written all over it.
The first season of Severance premiered on February 18, 2022, on Apple TV+. Produced by Red Hour Films, Ben Stiller’s production company (Stiller also directed several episodes, including the season one finale and the first episode of season two), the show attained quite a following amongst my friends and colleagues. Many people whose opinions I deeply trust told me I must watch it and that I’d love it. Although I got a third of the way through the first episode, I stopped watching for, as I said, some inexplicable reason. Big mistake on my part.
Last week—partly because of Parker Ortolani’s excited coverage of the superb Severance marketing stunt in the middle of New York’s Grand Central Station (hey, good advertising works), partly because people were still telling me that I really should give it a try—I finally watched all of season one and the first episode of season two—which premiered last week on January 17. The people who told me I would love it weren’t wrong.
Severance is one of the best TV series I have ever seen. It’s right up there with Mad Men, which is still my favorite. Severance has a weird, Twin Peaks-like quality to it (R.I.P. David Lynch), but the uncomfortable, surreal storytelling is fused with a Sci-Fi conceit and a peerless visual creative aesthetic that never overshadows the human element. It’s the most Apple-y of any series on Apple TV+.
Before going any further, here’s a brief and mostly spoiler-free synopsis for those of you who have yet to see the show:
Severance, written by Dan Erickson, is a science fiction thriller set in and around the brutalist corporate headquarters of Lumon Industries. To date, it’s never been explained what Lumon actually does. But what we do know is that the company has instigated the “severance” program: A tiny device is surgically inserted into the brain of an employee, completely severing their memories of their work self (their “Innie”) and their personal lives (their “Outie”). The Innie has no idea about any facet of the Outie’s life and vice versa. The show stars Adam Scott (Mark Scout), Britt Lower (Helly Riggs), John Turturro (Irving Bailiff), Zach Cherry (Dylan George), Patricia Arquette (Harmony Cobel), Tramell Tillman (Mr. Milchick), and Christopher Walken as Burt Goodman.
The first season of Severance was lauded by critics (deservedly so), and reviews for season two were similarly effusive. But what struck me as I binged this series over this past week is the sheer level of creative work that has gone into the making of this show. In addition to crisp writing and deft acting, (much of the actors’ performances come from their subtle facial expressions, especially Britt Lower), which has received so much praise. Severance is a masterclass in production design, art direction, set design, and cinematography.
From a purely visual standpoint, Severance is extraordinary: Stanley Kubrick’s aesthetic fused with David Lynch’s weirdness and Wes Anderson’s minute attention to detail. The show features stylish, minimalist window-less sets with low ceilings, muted pastel-colored carpets, endless 2001-esque white corridors, stylish mid-century modern office and conference room furniture, with desks arranged in perfectly symmetrical order fitted with retro computers, blue mechanical keyboards, ball mice, and CRT monitors; they’re a tech nerd’s dream. And the lighting and photography? Don’t get me talking about the lighting and photography; I have no words. Okay, maybe I have words.
Severance is a photographic television show: pausing it at almost any point, but particularly during scenes on the “severed” floor of the Lumos building, creates a nearly perfect photograph. These shots often remind me of the beautiful work of photographer Erwin Olaf (who sadly passed away in 2023), and some of the exterior shots have a decidedly Gregory Crewdson vibe. A specific example of this photographic quality comes in the first episode of season two: a shot of Mr. Milchick (played by Tramell Tillman) wearing a black jacket and black turtleneck sweater standing against the deep blue wall of his office. The shot is beautifully lit, with the dramatic, soft light worthy of an Annie Leibovitz portrait; it wouldn’t look out of place on pages of Vanity Fair (try as I might, I can’t find an example of this shot, you’ll just have to watch the season two premiere to see it).
Jessica Lee Gagné is the show’s Director of Photography. Gagné and her team have gone to great lengths to create a surreal visual tableau of office life in Severance’s Innie spaces, and that contrasts sharply with the dark, lifeless interiors of Outie Mark Scout’s (Adam Scott) homogeneous, sterile corporate housing and against her sister’s mid-century timber home that she shares with her pretentiously needy life coach husband (played brilliantly by Michael Chernus). Here, the interior is rich with plenty of warm colors, a stark contrast with the cold, gray brutalist exterior of Lumon office, or the frigid, snow-covered parking lots and streets, and the flat, soft overhead lighting of the “severed’ office interiors, reminiscent of Herman Miller photo studio.
Yet, as much as I wax lyrical about the still-life photographic quality of the cinematography, I don’t want to give the impression that the show is static; it’s far from it. Though much of the show is slow (the Innies’ working in silence at their desks or talking with each other as they peer over their cubicle partitions), there are also moments of frenetic, almost manic energy, such as the remarkable opening shot of season two. There’s a lot of running in Severance, but there are also clever camera movements around a static actor, like the subtle but oh-so-effective dolly zoom pull (from telephoto to wide), which has the effect of literally changing the shape of the actor’s head as they transform from Outie to Innie during their descent to the severed floor in the elevator, a moment that it subtly complimented by the actor’s shift in expression. It’s a perfect blend of creative and acting techniques.
And that description could apply to Severance as a whole. What I find most remarkable is that the creative aspects of this series never overpower the human ones. The writing, direction, cast, cinematography, production design, art direction, set design, and even weather are equally balanced; no one element overwhelms another. (To that point, Severance is the perfect show to watch on a cold winter’s night.) Even Christopher Walken, who usually steals every scene just by walking into it, fits seamlessly and perfectly into the Severance cinematic universe.
I can think of only one other show I would describe in the same way: Mad Men. Matthew Weiner’s Mad Men ran for over eight years, spanning seven seasons and 92 episodes. And not one of them was bad. The attention to detail never faltered even once. I remember a shot of Don Draper shaving in an airplane toilet and using the same Remington razor my father used. I know this because, as a child, I would play with it (it had a rotary dial) and break it. Dad wasn’t best pleased. But that exquisite set design, styling, and cinematography complimented the writing and the performances perfectly; Mad Men was, and is, perfect television without equal. At least until now.
With season two, Severance adds another 10 episodes to the previous season’s nine. I have no idea if this series will ever run for as long or as many episodes as Mad Men, but I don’t think it has to. If season two is as good as the first (and by all accounts, it is), we will be talking about this series for years to come. I only wish I had started watching it sooner.