One of the painful pleasures of watching Severance is getting swept up by its emotionally eviscerating romances that we logically know won’t, or can’t work out.
In the Apple TV+ sci-fi series, the “innie” version of Mark Scout (Adam Scott) is enamored by his colleague Helly (Britt Lower), but the only reason he’s even met her goes back to a decision dictated by outie Mark’s grief over his late wife Gemma (Dichen Lachman).
She, as it turns out, is alive (and being held captive by Helly’s outie, Helena, but that’s a whole other minefield). How will a reintegrated Mark navigate his feelings for both women?
Likewise, though innie Dylan’s (Zach Cherry) desire for his outie’s wife, Gretchen (Merritt Wever), is reciprocated—she sees in him the man she first married—doesn’t their relationship mean she’s cheating on her husband? Even with just himself?
Love on the severed floor may come with an expiration date, but even its most short-lived romances are profoundly life-changing.
Consider Irving (John Turturro) and Burt (Christopher Walken), who first bond over the artwork in Lumon’s halls in Season 1. There’s great charm to how a smitten Irving can’t meet Burt’s gaze when they run into each other again, only smiling shyly. For all their corporate expertise, the “innies” are essentially children, and it’s a delight to watch the giddy excitement of a first-time crush embodied by a then-65-year-old Turturro and 79-year-old Walken.
There’s a clandestine thrill to their relationship—since workplace romances are forbidden, they refer to each other by their department names to keep up the pretence of their visits being official business—but there’s also a deep tenderness. They brush hands while admiring a painting, and later, lean against each other’s foreheads in a secret roomful of plants. The choice of location is significant—the severed floor is a cold, sterile environment where seemingly nothing grows. Here, in defiance of corporate norms, something can.
Severance sets up several obstacles to their happily-ever-after. First, innie Burt is forced to retire. Then, innie Irving escapes and finds Burt’s outie, only to be shattered by the revelation that he’s married. Season 2 hints at the possibility of Burt having been a Lumon mole all along. Is television’s best romance about to be upended by a shattering betrayal? “Burving” can’t last, but their tragic parting is far more emotionally resonant than any big twist could be.
By Season 2 Episode 9, outie Burt reveals that much before he underwent severance in the hopes of starting over with a clean slate, he did work at Lumon, as a “driver.” He didn’t know what happened to his passengers once he dropped them off, but the grim implication is that the firm had them killed. Outie Irving, who’s been furtively investigating Lumon, knows too much, and now it’s his turn to go on a drive.
Except Burt drops Irving off at a train station. Getting him to leave town is the only way to ensure his safety, even if it puts his own in jeopardy. Burt doesn’t know this man, but he knows himself all too well; his self-sacrificial gesture is in service of the kinder, more honourable version of him that fell in love.
Telling Irving, “You can never come back,” is a devastating parallel to him saying, “It’s okay, just stay. Stay with me,” in the plant room, a gentle response to innie Irving not yet being ready for his first kiss.
Outie Irving’s ready now. He speaks of a lifetime of never having experienced love, and asks outie Burt if he’d like to discover what their innies had together. This is the only love he’s ever known, and he can’t even remember it. They touch foreheads, unknowingly assuming the same position their innies once did. This time, it’s Burt who holds back; he has to let Irving go.
The two may have become friends over a shared devotion to Lumon’s cult-like teachings, but their love for each other sparks a rebellion. On the severed floor, Irving’s feelings for Burt pierce through his idolatry for Lumon founder Kier. Outside, Burt’s burgeoning affection for Irving helps him rediscover the innate decency he’d lost in service of the company’s sinister goals years ago. Like everything else it gets its hooks into, however, their romance is yet another thing Lumon destroys. For Burt to regain his humanity, Irving must lose the great love of his life.
It’s not the first time. When Burt’s forced to retire, only Irving recognizes that to fire an innie is to kill them; they cease to exist outside of work. “You’re not severed,” he snipes at manager Mr. Milchick (Tramell Tillman). “You walk out of here with your memories…no one can rip them away from you.” By Season 2, Burt and Irving’s innies are both ‘dead’, but even Lumon can’t snuff out the connection their outies now share.
In Severance, to love someone is to also confront the eventual pain of their loss. And as Irving’s train pulls away, the ache of it has never felt more bruising.
