Severance Season-Premiere Recap: It’s Been a Minute

In the realm of Severance, being an Innie implies having minimal autonomy over one’s life. These individuals are essentially confined to work, lacking control over their sleep, diet, and engaged in data-processing tasks they struggle to comprehend. A significant turning point in season two is when Innies are given a genuine choice – depart from Lumon, and the decision will be final. However, this option presents a grim reality; if Innies decide to leave, they cease to exist. In essence, their ‘choice’ boils down to relentlessly laboring in a cold, fluorescent-lit basement or ceasing to exist.

Is Lumon deliberately engineering suffering as a crucial aspect of the Innies’ existence? And if so, how can we comprehend their decision to endure a life filled with countless wounds rather than nonexistence?

Returning to the realm of Severance, dear companions, it’s great to be back! Just as Mr. Milchick greets Mark S. at the start of this episode, “It’s been a while.” We’ve got plenty to catch up on.

Following a three-year absence, the series Severance is back, presenting an outstanding hourlong episode centered entirely around the Innies following their mental escape from confinement. The initial scenes of the premiere promptly refresh our memory about what Mark S., Helly R. (portrayed by Britt Lower), and Irving B. (John Turturro) were engaged in when Mr. Milchick burst through the security-room door and tackled Dylan G. (Zach Cherry), disrupting their trip to reality. However, Innies don’t perceive time like we do. Despite Milchick asserting that it has been five months since the Innies rose up, to them it feels as if no time has actually elapsed. (Aren’t we just a little envious of how they avoided the gap between seasons?)

Following the strange vanishing of Wellness, reminiscent of a bug in an unusual video game, Mark makes his way to Macrodata Refinement. Rather than encountering his acquaintances, he stumbles upon three novices: Gwendolyn Y. (Alia Shawkat), Dario R. (Stefano Carannante), and Mark W. (Bob Balaban, who bears a striking resemblance to Orville Redenbacher). Gwendolyn is eager to delve into Mark’s experiences on the surface, bombarding him with queries about the sky and atmosphere. Dario is primarily focused on securing ink for his pen, and Mark W. amusingly refers to Mr. Milchick as “Mr. Milkshake” and expresses concerns over two refiners sharing the same name. This group is quite peculiar, and their conversations are genuinely entertaining. They exchange details about their distinct departments. It appears that Gwendolyn and Mark W. hail from a more advanced facility — their Perpetuity Wing featured animatronic Eagans, which brought back Chuck E. Cheese-induced nightmares from my past — but that branch has since been shut down. Lumon seems to have hastily expanded their discontinued project, and due to people’s reluctance to undergo the procedure (a surprising revelation), they are forced to close some branches. Fascinating.

Dario explains that he hails from a non-tech-savvy faction, as evidenced by their reliance on basic tools like brooms and ropes for transportation (instead of fancy machines or space travel). The Eagans, living within their eternal section, seem to have used rudimentary elevators made of ropes. This raises questions about how they maintained balance during transformations between Innie and Outie states. Despite these intriguing curiosities, we move on. Dario’s trophy resembles Mark’s holographic cube, but it is a simple wooden carving rather than sophisticated technology. By the end of the episode, the refiners have disappeared, yet Dario’s trophy hints at potential future appearances of these primitive characters.

In the latest team gathering, they engage in a friendly ice-breaking game, and we encounter another fresh face: Miss Huang, or Sarah Bock, who’s recently joined as the new Milchick. The crew is intrigued about her presence on the upper floors, given her youthful appearance. Interestingly, Sarah Bock is 18 in real life, but costume designer Sarah Edwards has chosen to dress her like a child. In the ensuing episode, Dylan speculates that she’s 8 years old, which seems unusually small, considering an adult’s standards. However, her hairstyle with a barrette and the eerie vibe reminiscent of a Catholic school uniform suggest she might be around 11 to 14 years old. This is still quite young for a Lumon employee, especially one potentially facing severance.

In the midst of this team-building event, I hit a boiling point. I simply couldn’t, and wouldn’t, follow along anymore. That very night, I penned a blunt remark about Milchick on a sticky note, labeling him as a “chaotic simpleton.” The next morning, I subtly placed it in Mark W.’s coat pocket, hoping it would stir some reaction. As fate would have it, when Milchick read the witty note aloud, it felt like my childish mind had concocted a half-baked, high school prank. But then he diverted our attention to the kitchenette, providing me with the perfect opportunity to slip away and secretly connect his office speaker to an outside line. Brilliant! In a panic, I connected the speaker and pleaded, “Please! They’re my friends! You can’t just make them disappear!

Although the board could choose to acknowledge Burt’s probable retirement, they choose to listen instead, as Milchick claims they don’t interact with Innies. However, they honor Mark’s wish to meet his friends once more. The following day, they step out of the elevator, one by one, reuniting after who knows how long. It fills my heart with such warmth it aches. The science fiction elements and the overall enchanting ambiance of this series are truly remarkable, but what has truly captured my emotions is the rich humanity and waning innocence of these four Innies. I find myself constantly supporting them, and witnessing them together again brought a delightful surprise.

When we’re all reunited, there’s little time for idle conversation. Milchick calls us over to the revamped break room, thankfully devoid of the ominous compunction statement booth. Instead, it’s adorned with motivational posters, a different kind of torment if you ask me. Milchick beams as he unveils a video that feels like it was made by none other than ChatGPT itself. It’s filled with the Innies’ rebellion plans, narrated by a voice reminiscent of Keanu Reeves, representing our building, Lumon. The video is so packed with vibrant images and heightened effects that it seems almost surreal. The narrator concludes by assuring us that Lumon is attentive to our needs, but the frequent recordings and reenactments of us Innies suggest otherwise. It’s a double-edged message, implying both listening and warning.

Following the video, Milchick further informs them that today presents an opportunity for each of them to decide whether they wish to remain or depart, with no ill feelings on either side. This tactic appears to be plucked straight from Cobel’s script. Last season, Cobel advised Milchick, “The most effective way to keep a captive subdued is to allow them to believe they are free.

In the end, the group gathers in the break room, swapping tales from outside. Helly starts off, narrating a vague and unpolished narrative about waking up in a run-down flat and encountering a gardener. Given her usual openness, it’s unusual that she seems to be hiding something with this tale. It leaves us wondering why she’s concealing her identity as an Eagan. Irv instantly grows suspicious of Helly’s story and becomes evasive about his own adventure. In contrast, Mark openly discusses his experience.

I dash off, searching for an exit, with Dylan hot on my heels. We encounter a touching moment where I confide in him, revealing secrets about the elevator artworks and, more intimately, about Burt and his spouse. In a poignant statement, I express, “I yearn for the agony to cease. If he’s gone and I’m gone… then, miraculously, we can be together.” Dylan refuses to accept this. The bond between Irv and Dylan has been a hidden strength throughout this series, and their connection reaches its peak here as Dylan pleads with me not to leave. As I grin like an idiot, Turturro infuses so much love and affection into the expression, showing that on the severed floor, I’ve found more than just romantic love. I excitedly declare, “I’m your favorite perk.

In essence, this is accurate. Later on, Milchick invites Dylan to examine a fresh benefit: blueprints for a family visitation room where he might potentially reunite with his spouse and children. It seems like a hollow pledge meant to keep Dylan employed at Lumon, given his exceptional skills, but we’ll have to wait and see!

In another location, Helly consents to aid Mark in his search for Ms. Casey. However, her perspective on the matter differs significantly from Mark’s. While Mark believes it is his duty to find his wife because, in a technical sense, she is also his, Helly strongly opposes any notion of her Outie being connected to her at all. Mark appears somewhat surprised by her statement, but in the end, he agrees to her assistance.

Towards the conclusion of the episode, all the workers make their way back to their desks to resume their tasks. With a sense of assurance, they power up their computers and begin organizing data. If they are successful, they’re granted the opportunity to unravel the enigmas of Lumon, as well as maintain their existence. The scene then shifts to Mark, who navigates through a file labeled Cold Harbor, moving a set of numbers into a container. As he does this, the view changes, with images flickering within the frame. We see another file titled Cold Harbor, which appears to be tracking real-time vital signs. The camera pulls back to reveal the entire screen, and there, an image of… Gemma.

Is Mark improving his spouse continually? Has he been consistently polishing her over the course of all these years? And, if the refiners are engineering some sort of human development, which others have been working on as well?

It seems that it’s about time for me to make a gradual departure, so I’ll head towards the elevator now. See you later…

Severed Sentiments

I’m excited to resume covering “Severance” again, and I can hardly contain my anticipation for this new season! Previously, our discussions were filled with insightful observations, intriguing theories, and enjoyable banter in the comments section. Now, it’s your turn to share your thoughts. I’ll be checking in on the comments throughout the season, and I’m looking forward to diving into all the topics together!

After Mark’s plea to the board, Milchick escorts him towards the elevator. He says, “Good-bye, Mark S.” Then, for a moment that seemed like an interval between worlds, there was a complete black screen. Following this, he appeared to have restarted or rebooted. This transition was distinct from the others we’ve seen because it included a fade to black. The show is known for not doing anything by chance, so I speculate whether Milchick sent Mark away for a while? It could be that there are hints of the movie Inception in the severance process, and we haven’t yet seen the limits to what Lumon can do with a human mind.

It’s quite peculiar that the individual in Milchick’s office seems perpetually linked with the board, which fuels suspicions that the board could potentially be an otherworldly entity, as some theories suggest.

Lovers of “Parks and Recreation” might remember that Adam Scott’s character, Ben Wyatt, often turned to Claymation or “Claymaish” during his depressive phases on the show. It makes me think that the format of the “Lumon is Listening” video was perhaps inspired by this character, as a subtle tribute.

In this episode, Cobel is not physically present, but her influence is noticeable, particularly through the “Hello Ms. Cobel” greeting that pops up on Milchick’s computer screen. There’s a humorous scene where he tries to get tech support to fix the problem and ends up hanging up in frustration. The wheels of corporate life spin swiftly for everyone!

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2025-01-17 11:55