Spoilers below.
Despite some viewers’ complaints that the past few Severance episodes have slowed the plot to a crawl, I don’t ultimately agree that the show’s creative team has foresworn a ticking clock. Case in point: In the first scene of season 2’s penultimate episode, “The After Hours,” we watch a literal ticking clock as Helena Eagan swims laps in her father’s pool. Cold Harbor, we may infer, is impending. (Again, Severance’s popular water motif makes its nerve-wracking appearance. Someone is definitely drowning before this season’s finished, right?)
In Jame Eagan’s cavernous, glass-encased living space—which takes open-concept to a discomfiting extreme—Helena sits to eat. He’s content to “watch” as she dissects a hard-boiled egg into six equal portions, then further divides those portions into minuscule bites. As she does this, Jame gives Helly what can only be described as a whimper of longing. “I wish you’d take them raw,” he tells her. She does not reply.
This entire interaction is, of course, deeply and profoundly uncomfortable—and it alludes to something dark indeed between Helena and her father. There’s no question Jame is a liar and a cheat; we know that from last episode’s revelation alone. But what does that mean, specifically, for his relationship with his “fetid moppet”? Has he abused her, emotionally or physically? And what’s with this creepy obsession with eggs? Certainly it’s a nod to Lumon’s broader interest in fertility, but what does that have to do with Helena? Might she be pregnant after all? I doubt it, but nor do I think the eggs are a throwaway bit of symbolic garnish.
Still, that’s all the time we get with Helena in “The After Hours.” Instead, we return to Helly R. inside Lumon, where she storms onto the severed floor only to discover Innie Mark is missing for the second day in a row. She demands answers from Milchick, but he’s otherwise preoccupied with Mr. Drummond and with Miss Huang—whose first name, we learn, is “Eustice.” Today marks the end of Miss Huang’s Wintertide Fellowship (the same fellowship Cobel underwent as a child) and, per Milchick, she’s next bound for the Gunnel Eagan Empathy Center in Svalbard, where she will “steward global reforms.” To celebrate the unexpected graduation, Milchick gifts Miss Huang with her own Kier bust, identical to the one within which Cobel hid her severance-chip schematics.
Miss Huang seems surprised by the sudden end of the fellowship, but she doesn’t she look eager to leave the severed floor. Still, when Milchick demands she make a “material sacrifice” to honor the occasion, she dutifully smashes her Kier ring-toss game with the bust of Jame. (It’s worth noting that, again, we’re met with a water motif here. In Miss Huang’s game, Kier is wearing a swimming costume. When she smashes him to pieces with the severed head—no pun intended—of his descendant, he effectively “drowns.”) Later, at dusk, a Lumon shuttle bus rumbles by to scoop up Miss Huang and her purple earmuffs, delivering them both to their next destination. And for what it’s worth, Svalbard is in Norway. If that’s really where she’s headed, might we ever see Miss Huang again? Or will she, like Cobel, rebel against her Lumon superiors and fight for her connection to the severed floor?
If so, she’ll follow in the footsteps of both Cobel and Milchick. Despite his generally unquestionable loyalty to Lumon, Milchick understands he’s an asset to the company, and as such, his superiors ought to treat him with a modicum of dignity. When the terrifying Mr. Drummond blames Milchick for Mark’s disappearance, then demands Milchick further dumb down his language, Milchick snaps—in the most Milchick manner possible. “Devour feculence,” he retorts, then translates: “It means, ‘Eat shit,’ Mr. Drummond. It’s not my fault what Mark Scout does when he is not at work. It’s yours.” And though I’m no Milchick apologist—after all, he knows the truth about Gemma—this comeback had me pumping my fist in the air. Get his ass, Milkshake!!!
The Cold Harbor file might be at 96-percent completion, but as long as Outie Mark is MIA, Lumon will have to wait for Jame’s “momentous day” to arrive. As a still-sickly Mark and Devon drive into a secluded spot in the woods for their rendezvous with Cobel, Mark expresses his (many) misgivings. When the former severed-floor manager finally arrives, she asks Mark how he’s holding up, and his “Oh my God, so good,” had me cackling. (I always love when Adam Scott gets the chance to bust out his comedy chops in this otherwise drama-focused series.)
Of course, the mood grows increasingly somber as Cobel relays the news that, if Innie Mark has indeed completed the Cold Harbor file, then Gemma is “already dead.” Mark cannot handle this thought, and points a finger directly in Cobel’s face as he hisses, “She better be fucking alive.” I’ve been wondering for several episodes now why Mark hasn’t seemed more manic after learning of Gemma’s (presumed) kidnapping. Shouldn’t he be shaking Reghabi and Cobel by the shoulders, demanding answers? Why is he not breaking down the doors of Lumon itself? Certainly it’s because he’s not an idiot; he knows the odds are stacked against him and Gemma both. Still, it was refreshing to witness a crack in his cynical facade as he tries to comprehend Gemma’s real fate. Indeed, Devon finally convinces him to go along with Cobel’s plans by evoking the name of his long-thought-deceased wife. “For Gemma,” she says.
Mark calls Milchick to tell him he’ll miss the day’s work on account of his nosebleeds, but changes his tune when Milchick clocks his “chicanery.” He needs a mental-health day, that’s all. He’s still grieving his wife, right? Shouldn’t he be allowed an occasional escape from the grind? “Do you know what I mean, Mr. Milchick?” he asks his Innie’s boss, who seems to process this question on a much more intimate level than Mark meant it. Milchick turns to face the portrait of an iceberg framed on his office wall, and it seems to bring him to the brink of tears. Woof. It’s been a rough few weeks for Milchick, but I must admit I love the rawness and unspoken depth Tramell Tillman gives this character.
Elsewhere, other Innie-Outie relationships are fracturing. When Gretchen tells Outie Dylan that she kissed his Innie (who, ouch, reminds her of how he “used to be”) in the Visitation Suite, Dylan feels justifiably betrayed and threatens to quit Lumon altogether. Later, she meets with Innie Dylan on the severed floor, where she admits their strange, beautiful arrangement must come to an end. As she stands to leave, Innie Dylan grows desperate. Clearly, he’s anticipated that this moment might arrive, and he’s prepared for it by assembling a tiny paper ring. “I know I’m just an Innie, but I love you all the way,” he tells Gretchen as he slides down to one knee. “I do.” (Watching this, I had to pause my video playback and bury my face in my hands. Dylan, baby, no!) Gretchen, tears streaking her face, can only apologize and turn away.
Helly is furious on Dylan’s behalf. She attempts to give him some breakup advice, despite her own lack of experience: “No one would treat someone they love the way [Gretchen]’s treating you,” she says. “Like all the Outies treat us. Like everything’s for them.” But Dylan is too lovestruck to accept her help, and instead he turns his ire back around on Helly. Helena Eagan is the company’s CEO-in-waiting. It’s her fault they’re all trapped in Lumon, right? She’s the one standing between him and a life with Gretchen. Helly tries to course-correct, reminding him of Irving’s sacrifice. Before the ORTBO, Irving left him the directions to the Testing Floor! Doesn’t that count for anything? Lumon “convinced you to turn your back on him for some Outie woman you don’t even know!” Helly cries in frustration. But Dylan’s too heartbroken to hear her out, and soon he’s filled out a resignation request, after which he enters the elevator without any certainty he’ll return.
Now completely alone, Helly refuses to give up. She locates Irving’s instructions behind the “Hang in There!” poster and attempts to commit their convoluted directions to memory. But as she closes her eyes to test herself, a blurry figure appears in the hallway behind her, slowly sharpening into the outline of Jame Eagan. As she shoves Irving’s instructions under her keyboard to hide them from Jame, he tells her, “You tricked me, my Helly.” To which she can only reply, “What the fuck?” (And we all echo the same! Tricked him how? What’s going to happen to Helly? HELP!)
Innie Irving might have provided Helly with a mission, but Outie Irving has a quest of his own. He returns to his Leonora Lake apartment only to find Burt Goodman waiting for him in his bedroom, everything but the man’s face encased in shadow. (My God, this series does lighting so well.) He reads from Irving’s Harriet the Spy notes on Lumon’s severed employees: “Goodman may have participated as a low-level Lumon enforcer or goon.” This seems to offend poor Burt. “We never used words like that. With Lumon, it’s a very specific language.”
Irving apologizes, for both the language and the belief that Burt worked under Lumon’s thumb. Nevertheless, Burt insists they “go for a ride.” I’ve watched enough Yellowstone trips to the train station to know this is almost never a good thing, and yet, Burt seems to have eschewed his loyalties to Lumon in favor of loyalties to his own Innie. When Burt drops Irv off at the station, he indicates that the latter must flee. “I can’t know where you get off,” Burt says, “and you can never come back to Kier.” He continues, “You asked me why I severed. I liked the idea that I could be innocent again. Part of me. But then my innocent part fell in love with you.”
Irving wants badly to hold onto this love they’ve miraculously found, even if it’s a love they, as Outies, have not experienced. They touch foreheads in a mirror-image of their Innies’ romance inside Lumon, and their body language makes it clear that they feel the connection between them, even if they cannot comprehend it. With every episode, Severance seems to further reinforce the idea that love transcends the severance barrier. If that’s the case, then can Irving really run away from it all? Can he abandon Burt forever, especially now that we know he’s never experienced love like this before? He boards the train with his beautiful dog, Radar, in tow, and smiles into the setting sun.
As the locomotive speeds down its track, the camera flashes to the Testing Floor hallway—which makes me wonder if Irving’s escape and Gemma’s might be tied somehow. Either way, this can’t possibly be Irving’s ultimate farewell. There are too many outstanding questions. We never learned about the mysterious voice on the other side of his payphone!
Finally, “The After Hours” ends with Mark hopping into the back of Hampton’s pick-up truck, the one Cobel “borrowed” last episode. Together, Mark, Cobel, and Devon sneak into the Damona Birthing Retreat by passing off Devon—pretending to be pregnant—as “one of Jame’s” secret partners. (We can interpret this as further indication that Jame might have some Elon Musk-esque ideas about fertility. Also, this means there are tons of little Eagan kids running around Kier, PE, right? If so, why haven’t we met any of them? Are they all in programs like Miss Huang’s?)
When Cobel tells the Damona security guard that she’s “looking for a gold thimble,” that seems to serve as a password of sorts, and the gates open for Hampton’s pick-up to sputter through. In Cottage Five, Devon and Harmony are able to access Innie Mark, who’s understandably terrified by the unexpected change of scenery. Devon leads him upstairs, where Cobel is backlit against a roaring fireplace like some demon who’s recently fled the pits of hell. (And, in some ways, does that not perfectly describe Cobel?)
“Do you remember the last thing that you said to me?” Devon asks her brother’s Innie.
Of course he does. “She’s alive.”
And, indeed, Gemma is alive. With the finale episode up next, maybe it’s finally time to bust her out of the Testing Floor.
