Severance’s Gut Punch Finale Is A Cliffhanger Done Right

Since its first episode, the discourse around Severance has largely centered on its big questions, often to the detriment of discussing any other element of the series. What is Lumon really after? What is the severed floor accomplishing through “Macro Data Refinement?” What happened to Mark’s wife Gemma? And perhaps most pressing of all, what’s the deal with the goats? Over its second season, the show answered all these enigmas and more, culminating in a showstopping finale that tied up loose ends before ending on a dire freeze frame that would have been the most devastating conclusion this side of Twin Peaks if it weren’t for the show already being renewed for a third season. Perhaps most satisfying of all, though, this episode finally stamped out the fear that this was another mystery box-style story leading up to empty reveals, instead delivering well-considered twists that fit neatly into the series’ corporate critiques.

First off, we finally learned what Lumon’s ultimate goal is: a world without pain. Of course, this isn’t nearly as nice as it sounds because what it actually means is a world where pain is shifted from haves to have-nots. As we learn in the Cobel-centric episode “Sweet Vitriol,” Lumon’s first product was ether, a chemical formula frequently used as an anesthetic. But leave it to Lumon to take something theoretically meant to alleviate pain and use it to inflict suffering instead: on top of this drug being created via child labor, Lumon suddenly abandoned the factory town that produced it, leaving its populace to fall further into poverty and addiction to ether. While some viewers were understandably frustrated with this episode because it was the second one-off in a row, these elements set up the ultimate reveal in the finale.

Eventually, we discover that modern Lumon is obsessed with this same mission of eliminating pain; it’s just now it’s emotional pain that they’re trying to eradicate. Gemma’s kidnapping, the innie’s work on the severed floor, and even the goats were all connected to an experiment to test the limits of the severance chip in siloing emotions. Gemma’s consciousness was sliced into pieces, each forced to endure her worst fears and anxieties to measure that the “main” personality wasn’t emotionally impacted by these various tortures.

The company’s ideological motivation behind all this (besides making boatloads of money) is mostly revealed in a single line. The Lumon enforcer Mr. Drummond, played menacingly by Darri Ólafsson, alludes to company founder Kier’s “eternal war against pain” before attempting to ritually sacrifice a baby goat from the Mammalians Nurturable department (Lumon has to be creepy freaks about every naming convention). For Lumon zealots, this war against pain is their guiding light, whether it’s removing physical pain with ether or eradicating emotional pain with severance. With the chip, users can isolate all the unpleasant parts of their lives, from going to the dentist to even child-rearing, living a “perfect” existence.

However, much like Cobel’s hollowed-out factory town, which ran on child labor, the chip comes with the massive caveat that all those negative things aren’t eradicated. Instead, they’re simply shifted from the privileged to the non-privileged, from the “outies” with all the control, to the “innies” whose entire existences are nothing but enduring pain. Because while corporate innovations may sometimes benefit the people who can afford them, there’s almost always blowback, whether that’s exploited workers, poisoned land, or plundered resources. It’s a deeply fitting turn that ties the series’ anti-capitalist commentary and mysteries into a surprisingly neat bow.

In fact, as previously mentioned, the finale gave us so much closure that it could have basically worked as the ending of the entire series, albeit a fairly ambiguous one. After conducting an elaborate escape to free Gemma from Lumon, innie Mark is given a choice. He can leave with Gemma as planned, potentially permanently handing over control to outie Mark. Or he can squeeze out a few more moments with Helly, the one he loves, despite the seeming inevitability of their end. Ultimately, he turns his back on a mortified Gemma, who was so close to reuniting with her husband, and enters a dead sprint just like he did in the season premiere. As Mark and Helly join hands, we’re treated to an eye-scorching freeze frame, the camera zooming in on their faces until we can see the film grain.

It’s a poignant moment that’s bleak and optimistic all at the same time. On the one hand, outie Mark is denied what he’s been fighting for the whole season, finally being able to reunite with his wife after two years of grieving. On the other hand, innie Mark fought for his “half a life,” as Helly put it, refusing to go quietly as he affirms that he and the other innies are people too and won’t be erased without a fight.