In The Windmills Of Your Mind

There is a part of me that wonders if the song played at the end of this episode was actually the result of a time-machine. “The Windmills Of Your Mind” was written by French composer Michel Legrand and American lyricists Alan and Marilyn Bergman back in 1968 for the film The Thomas Crown Affair. That version was performed by Noel Harrison. The version played at the end of Severance’s Season 2 finale was recorded a year later by Mel Tormé. Spoilers ahead.

The lyrics are so perfect for this show, it’s as if someone went back in time and wrote it decades earlier just so Ben Stiller could include it in the final sequence of Cold Harbor. Behold and listen:

“. . . Round, like a circle in a spiral / Like a wheel within a wheel / Never ending or beginning / On an ever-spinning reel . . . Like a clock whose hands are sweeping / Past the minutes of its face / And the world is like an apple / Whirling silently in space / Like the circles that you find / In the windmills of your mind . . . “

It’s such a haunting melody, such a jazzy laidback tune, that it stands in stark contrast to our heroes fleeing through the halls of the severed floor. Mark (Adam Scott) and Helly (Britt Lower) running through the red-and-white blinking halls, away from their outies, away from the world outside entirely, including Gemma (Dichen Lachman) as she bangs on the door shouting, “Mark! We have to go! Mark! No!” desperately, a futile plea to her husband who is not her husband. “Like a tunnel that you follow / To a tunnel of its own / down a hollow to a cavern / where the sun has never shone . . . “

One year before The Thomas Crown Affair hit theaters, another film took the world by storm. The Graduate, starring Dustin Hoffman, Anne Bancroft and Katharine Ross, was the highest-grossing film of 1967, and is widely regarded as one of the greatest movies of all time, with one of the very best soundtracks thanks to Simon & Garfunkel’s many great tracks. Hoffman was paid $20,000 to play the lead role, and took home about $4,000 of that after taxes and expenses, filing for unemployment benefits soon after. He was an unlikely casting choice and one the producers resisted, but director Mike Nichols believed he was perfect for the part. “As far as I’m concerned, Mike Nichols did a very courageous thing casting me in a part that I was not right for, meaning I was Jewish,” Hoffman said at the time.

This is an interesting parallel to Scott’s casting in Severance, which Apple was very much against. Stiller fought relentlessly to cast him, however. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before in show business. No one’s ever stuck their neck out for me like that,” Scott said. There are other parallels.

As I watched the final scene of Severance’s season 2 finale for the third time, I thought to myself, “This is iconic. This is one of those iconic moments in TV that we’ll think about for years to come. This image of Mark and Helly running, hand in hand, through the halls of Lumon . . .” and then it struck me. I’d seen this before. This is the second-to-last scene of The Graduate, as Benjamin Braddock and Elaine Robinson flee the church, barring the doors with a cross, before racing to the bus and freedom.

I’m not suggesting that it’s derivative, mind you, though I would be shocked if it wasn’t intentional. The difference here is that it is Gemma behind those doors, and all of us, too, the audience, banging on the glass with her, baffled at this strange and sudden turn of events, begging for the fleeing lover to return. Of course, Mark and Helly never make it to the bus. There is no final moment of relief here where they can sit in silence, smiling, breathless, free. That works well in a film, but here we have another season to think about. Where do two innies flee when they can only survive in this Lumon prison, when prison is the only place you can exist at all?

… Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half-remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

It’s uncanny. Maybe Dan Erickson came up with the idea for Severance after listening to this song.

I asked this question weeks ago when the season began. What we needed to consider, and what Mark Scout never did, is that rescuing Gemma from Lumon would almost certainly mean the end of severance. And that would mean the end of all the innies, including Mark and Helly and their future together, or at least their chance at one, however slim.

This is all a very roundabout way of discussing the Season 2 finale, I realize, but I find the parallels so fascinating. The Graduate is all about a generation’s defiance, about the young rejecting the values and norms of the old, about disillusionment with the status quo and the burden of expectations that seem neither fair nor morally sound. While Severance has largely focused on the implications of the Lumon cult and its diabolical plans for humanity, the finale veers into unexpected territory. It is not all black and white.

The innies, who are very much like a younger generation (Mark S. tells Mark Scout that he’s lived like twenty times longer than him, so how would reintegration work exactly?) are rejecting their outies in much the same way Braddock and Robinson rejected their parents. It’s a shocking twist, but maybe it shouldn’t be. After all, is it fair to ask Mark S. to give his life for his outie? To sacrifice everything, including the woman he loves, for a stranger? For the person who dragged him into this world, unwillingly, much like we bring our own children into existence? Plucked from the void and into this life.

What The Numbers Mean

There are six classic conflicts in literature: Man vs Nature, Man vs Technology, Man vs Society, Man vs Fate, Man vs Man and Man vs Self. These cover most of the bases.

Perhaps the most interesting manifestation of these in Severance happens in the opening of the Season 2 finale. While most of the show could be filed under Man vs Technology, the nature of the severance procedure means we’re bound to get a bit of Man vs Self. Mostly, we’ve seen this with Helly R and Helena Eagan, first in Helly’s failed attempts at resignation and then suicide in Season 1, and again with the Helena as a mole in Season 2.

In the finale, we see a much more direct example of Man vs Self when Mark Scout and Mark S finally get a chance to talk. This sets the stage for the shocking final scene, but also serves as a way for Mark, Devon (Jen Tullock) and Ms. Cobel (Patricia Arquette) to communicate the plan with Mark S who is the key factor not just in the completion of Lumon’s mysterious Cold Harbor, but in our heroes’ rescue plan for Gemma.

It’s a fascinating conversation that takes place via a camcorder, as Mark and Mark trade an increasingly hostile series of recordings. Mark Scout blunders horribly when he condescendingly tells his innie that he’s glad he found his own romance with “Helleny” and then asks him to imagine how much more important his marriage with Gemma is, a request that understandably angers Mark S. “Her name is Helly,” he says. There’s steel in his voice now.

At last, Cobel intervenes and asks to talk with Mark S. alone. She tells him something that we’ve all been waiting to hear. Each of the files Mark has completed in MDR has been the creation of a new “innie” for Gemma. Cold Harbor is the 25th and final innie, and once he’s done with that one they intend to remove the chip from her brain, apparently to use it in some grander scheme we aren’t fully able to grasp just yet. Removing the chip will kill her. All we can really glean about Lumon’s greater project is something we hear briefly later in the episode when a wax statue of Kier shows up in MDR. I can’t remember the exact line, but it’s something about Kier’s mission to free the world from pain.

Good intentions pave the road to hell, and all that jazz.

Mark agrees to help, but he’s clearly not fully onboard. He tells Devon and Cobel that the next thing he sees when he leaves the birthing cabin had better be the inside of the severed floor or else they’ll never see Gemma again. He walks outside and . . .

The Exalted Victory Of Cold Harbor

. . . opens his eyes as the elevator doors open. Waiting on the inside is a painting titled ‘The Exalted Victory Of Cold Harbor’. “Pictures hanging in a hallway or the fragment of a song / Half remembered names and faces but to whom do they belong?”

It’s a mural showing all the characters Mark has encountered in his adventures in Lumon, from Kier to Ricken to Mr. Milchick and Ms. Casey. Even Irving is there, despite Milchick’s threat to scrub him from memory.

So Mark returns, and moments later Helly appears. They walk through dark halls to MDR, where a strange sight awaits them. A statue of Kier, holding an envelope, which they open:

It reads:

“Mark, The Founder wished to witness the historic completion of your twenty-fifth file. Helly R shall also bear witness from her chair. Goodly splendors await upon your victory. Love, Mr. Milchick.”

Have I mentioned that this is not just the most intense episode of the season, but perhaps the funniest as well?

Ominous, too. What follows is surreal.

Mark finishes the file, creating Gemma’s 25th innie, and as we see the numbers enter the boxes we’re reminded of Cobel’s words. The numbers are scary because they’re actually the Four Tempers: Woe, Malice, Frolic and Dread.

When it’s done, Kier speaks. It’s actually Dr. Mauer, up in the observation room alone, and he welcomes Mr. Milchick (Tramell Tillman) to the floor. Out Milchick leaps, the spotlight on him now, and we’re given a canned audience track. Laughter, clapping, the whole shebang. It’s an award show now, and Kier throws little barbs at Milchick, insulting him to the point that Milchick finally fires back, telling the Founder that his wax statue is four inches taller than the man was in real life. You can almost see the fury on the waxy face, as it glowers into the dark room.

But wait, that’s not all! We hear drums ratt-a-tatting in the distance. Horns, too. Kier, Chosen One, Kier but with the full aplomb of a marching band. And so in storms a new severed department we knew nothing about until now: Choreography and Merriment! I can imagine the writers asking themselves, “How can we top defiant jazz?” “Ah, how about an entire marching band, with Milchick as its dancing conductor?”

Poor Milchick. He can never finish a dance.

As the marching band of C&M stomps across the room, they stop suddenly at the end of the song, lifting placards above their head to form a giant sign that nobody beneath them could possibly see:

Helly passes Mark the directions to the Exports Hall and then races through the crowd, grabbing Milchick’s walkie-talkie and rushing to the bathroom. Milchick charges after her and Mark makes his escape, flying into the winding, stark-white hallways of the severed floor. Helly, meanwhile, has planned an ambush. When Milchick barrels into the bathroom after her, he sees the walkie-talkie in sink, and Helly R dips out and slams the door shut, holding it from the other side to prevent his escape.

Meanwhile . . . .

What The Goats Mean

Mr. Drummond (Ólafur Darri Ólafsson) has made his way down to the severed floor and there, just outside the door to the Exports Hall, he presses against the wall and opens a secret door. Inside, there is a white tiled room with a small white altar of sorts in the middle. Here, Lorne (Gwendoline Christie) awaits, dressed in ceremonial black, with a baby goat named Emile.

Never has Lumon seemed more cult-like than they do now. The goats of Mammalians Nurturable, we discover, are for one purpose only: Sacrifice. They are, in other words, sacrificial lambs. This one must die so that its spirit can guide Gemma’s soul to the arms of Kier. Lorne is not happy about it, having grown attached to her furry wards. It is yet another test in Lumon’s nefarious plans to eliminate pain, by forcing innies to suffer for us.

There is a captive bolt pistol on the wall, and Drummond brings it down and loads it, handing the weapon to Lorne, who lifts it to the goat’s head. And just then, they hear banging outside. It’s Mark, whose key won’t open the Exports Hallway door (something they didn’t consider) and Drummond goes to investigate.

When the hulking Lumon executive finds Mark, his eyes gleam with rage and something a little more like hunger. Mark tries to act like he’s in the wrong place, but Drummond doesn’t buy it. He punches Mark hard in the face and then commences in beating him viciously. It’s a brutal scene of shocking violence and Drummond is clearly fully intending to kill Mark (making us wonder what they had planned for Mark all along) until Lorne appears, holding the pistol to Drummond’s head. “No more killing,” she says. Drummond stops choking Mark and backs off slowly, then smashes the pistol from Lorne’s hand.

The fight that ensues is jaw-dropping. Drummond is huge, but Lorne is no slouch. “Eat your heart out, Brienne vs The Hound,” I muttered, after the two bloody one another. Lorne wisely uses Drummond’s genitals against him, and just when it seems that she’s about to kill the brute, Mark intervenes. He needs Drummond as a hostage.

Holding the gun to the larger man, he pushes him into the Exports Hall. Lorne thanks Mark for saving Emile, and then Mark and Drummond go into the elevator. And Mark’s eyes flutter, the sound of severance thrums, and when Mark Scout awakens, he’s accidentally fired the bolt pistol into Drummond’s neck. The man gurgles, bleeding, and falls to the floor. What a thing to wake up to!

Meanwhile, Gemma has been brought to the final door. The overseer pricks her finger and Gemma, wearing the same outfit she wore the last time she saw Mark, before she was kidnapped (or went voluntarily to Lumon). The same coat and scarf she wore on the night she “died”. Inside, Dr. Mauer’s voice tells her to enter the room. In the white room she enters, there is nothing but a crib. The same crib Mark bought and tried to build after their failed attempts at pregnancy and the slow unraveling of their happiness. The voice asks her if it makes her feel anything, but she says no, nothing at all. The voice tells her to take the crib apart.

Jame Eagan (Michael Siberry) watches from his little booth, a hungry glow in his eyes.

Mark hurries down the halls of the Testing Floor, passing doors each marked with a different name, each a different “innie” experience, until finally he comes to Cold Harbor. The overseer finds him here and he demands to be let in. They shout at each other before she runs off to get help. Again, this is happening in one of the most intense moments of the entire show, but it’s hilarious. Mark tries his own finger, but the door doesn’t open. Then he glances down at all the blood on his coat and shirt and tie and has an idea. He lifts his finger again, but places the bloody tie between it and the needle and the needle sucks up Drummond’s blood. The door opens.

And finally, for the first time in this show and the first time in years, Mark Scout sees his wife. He walks slowly into the room and she eyes him with fear. It’s understandable. He’s covered in blood. He tells her that he’s her husband and they need to leave. Over the intercom, Dr. Mauer tells her that this is not part of the test. Do not leave with this man. But she can sense something. The severance barriers may not be holding quite as well as Lumon thinks, or perhaps it’s simply that the power of authenticity and love breaks all barriers. In any case, she takes his hand and they leave.

“Oh f&#%!” Jame Eagan says, and I can’t help but laugh out loud. How is this show so funny and so intense and so emotionally gut-wrenching all at once?

In the hall, Mark and Gemma are reunited at last. It’s a beautiful moment, but it doesn’t last long. They race to the elevators as Dr. Mauer chases close behind. “Stop!” he cries. “You’ll kill them all!”

Mark pushes Drummond’s body out of the way and the elevator doors shut. They embrace, kiss, lovers once again . . . and then the thrum, the change, and now it’s Ms. Casey and Mark S. awkwardly holding one another. “What’s happening?” Ms. Casey asks. Mark leads her out of the elevator and they run through the halls, a weird parallel to the final moments of the episode, or a bit of foreshadowing. The alarm is going off now. The walls are white and red. White and red. Red. Red. Red.

The Color Red

All season long, it’s been impossible to miss: The color blue. The blue of Milchick’s office wall. The blue of Helly’s dress. The cerulean ORTBO sky. Only occasionally have we glimpsed another color so distinct: The orange of fire. Fire at the campsite, flames devouring the promise of marshmallows. Fire crackling in Burt’s (Christopher Walken) dining room, framing his face like a devil. Fire in the birthing cabin, where another devil stands.

And now, red. The red of Drummond’s blood on Mark’s shirt. The red of the alarm, casting the whole world bloody. Milchick’s stoic face, red and hellish. There is nothing left of blue in this world. Blue was for another, gentler time.

Which brings us, I suppose, to Dylan G. (Zach Cherry) who last week resigned, spurned by his outie’s wife Gretchen (Merit Weaver) and missing his lost friend Irving B. (John Turturro). But he returns, meets Milchick in the elevator, sees the mural on the wall, and then is handed an envelope from Milchick, who tells him that he is “duly swamped” or would otherwise stick around to witness the reading.

Milchick runs off (hilariously) and Dylan opens the envelope. It’s the second letter of the episode, this time from Dylan’s outie who opens with a big F-you for indecorous attempt at stealing his wife. But the letter softens from here. He says he can’t blame him because Gretchen is amazing, and they do share the same physiology, after all. And besides, he’s comforted knowing that his innie is around, because he’s never been very impressive himself, but hearing what a “confident badass” he is from Gretchen makes him happy. It’s a really sweet letter. In some ways, it’s an important contrast with Mark’s own communication with his innie. Dylan gives Dylan the choice. Stay or go, it’s up to him.

Dylan makes his way to MDR, and just as Milchick is about to break out, he slams the vending machine into the doorway, holding him back. He and Helly still struggle to stop their manager’s escape. Helly grabs a trombone and trombones Milchick right to the noggin. But even that’s not enough. As the light flashes red, and the marching band dances, Milchick is overcome with resolve. He tells C&M to return to their department. Then he screws his malice to the sticky place and gives it one last charge, knocking down the vending machine.

But he’s too late. Helly has given the innies of Choreography and Merriment a rousing speech. They’ve disobeyed Milchick’s orders to disband. When he burst forth into MDR, free of the bathroom, he’s met with Dylan and an army of trumpet players and drummers. “F#@( you, Mr. Milchick,” Dylan says defiantly.

And so we return to the ending. Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel. To Mark S leading Ms Casey to the exit. Shutting the door. To Gemma, waking up on the other side, pleading with her husband’s innie to leave, surely not fully understanding why he wouldn’t, not really knowing in that moment yet that he’s severed. Then Helly showing up down the hall, just as Mark S is about to make his choice. Was he about to open the door, join his wife that isn’t his wife and escape? He sees Helly and the choice is made. He turns his back on Gemma and the two run off, into the red halls of Lumon’s severed floor, hand in hand.

… Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle in your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that you said
Lovers walk along the shore
And leave their footprints in the sand
Is the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand

This was a powerful, shocking, perfectly crafted episode of television, though I still think the Season 1 finale, however less bombastic and wild, hit me a little bit harder. Of course, it’s almost impossible to top such a pivotal episode, but Stiller and his team have come close.

I’m left wondering where they can possibly go from here, with Irving gone and the severed floor in tatters and Gemma free, but Mark and Helly still in there. Where does all of this go? I’m dying to know, but I’m afraid. I’m always afraid of shows like this, with so much mystery and so much of the draw coming from the questions we have unanswered, and then when we get the answers, does it lose what made it tick to begin with?

Scattered Thoughts

• Ms. Casey is the only innie I can think of that isn’t given a last name initial and instead is given a “Ms.” before her name. I never really thought about this until now for some reason. The only other people given “Ms” or “Mr” are Lumon employees like Mr. Milchick and Ms. Huang and Ms. Cobel.
• It’s weird to not have Irving in the finale. He had his send-off last week but his absence here is certainly felt. Dylan didn’t have a huge part to play, but I’m glad he wasn’t just retired to make more room for Mark and Helly and Gemma.
• Speaking of missing faces, one of my complaints about this season is just how much they cut back on the people outside of Lumon. I have more to say about this in my Season 2 critique that I’m working on, but Ricken is barely in this season, his book group is missing, Petey’s daughter is gone, Alexa is gone. The world outside of Lumon has receded into the background, and in some ways I think that weakens the story overall. I hope it’s brought back in Season 3.
• Speaking of Season 3, it hasn’t been renewed yet but I would be shocked if Apple doesn’t give it another season. It’s expensive, but it’s the streamer’s biggest and most critically acclaimed series. A part of me hopes that it’s the final season and that this isn’t dragged on forever. I can see this working well in a three-season arc, similar to a three-act play. We shall see.

I’ll have further thoughts on the season as a whole soon. I think it took some weird turns in the second half, and the writers took a couple of shortcuts to get the plot from point A to point B that annoyed me, but there’s not space here to discuss them. More to come. In the meantime, what did you think of the season and the season finale? Let me know on Twitter, Instagram, Bluesky or Facebook. Also be sure to subscribe to my YouTube channel and follow me here on this blog. Sign up for my newsletter for more reviews and commentary on entertainment and culture.