When we get to meet Mark’s “outie” self, we learn he’s a deeply depressed man who eagerly agreed to the severance procedure after suffering a crushing loss; his grief has exhausted him, and he just wants to stop feeling it, even if just for eight hours a day. One of the first episode’s finest, surest touches occurs as we follow “outie” Mark into a Lumon elevator, and observe the precise moment of his transition into “innie” Mark, during the descent to his sub-basement office space. There is a soft buzzing sound, the screen’s aspect ratio widens, and the expression on his face subtly but chillingly alters from low-level despair into … a perfect, blissful absence.
Now: This premise, and its execution, could easily go wrong in any of a hundred different ways. If all of this detailed, finely executed imaginative work were being done in service of broad corporate satire—the kind that simply sets about scoring lazy pot-shots at companies’ ability to exploit and dehumanize their employees—it would grow rapidly one-note, and boring.
Instead, Severance expertly channels all of the energy it would otherwise spend making tired jokes about corporate culture into slowly but steadily building out its highly specific world. And the world of this particular corporation is fascinating—its puzzling business culture; its bizarre systems of employee performance reviews, rewards and punishments; its shadowy history and lore; and, most intriguingly, its mysteriously compelling founder. (Who seems like what you’d end up with if you mixed Joseph Smith and L. Ron Hubbard with Elon Musk.)
The whole affair requires a sustained deftness of tone that the series pulls off effortlessly, steadily ratcheting up the stakes and pacing while supplying its characters room to breathe, grow and complicate.
In “outie” Mark’s home life, his close relationship with his sister (a wryly funny and deeply empathetic Jen Tullock) provides him much-needed comfort, while her self-help author husband (the great Michael Chernus, who’s hilarious here) causes him only exasperated frustration—and supplies the series with its best jokes.
In “innie” Mark’s office life, his intense, ironically named boss Harmony (Patricia Arquette, going full ham and loving it) and aggressively affable office manager Milchick (Tramell Tillman) get to add layers to their performances and make choices that legitimately surprise us.