'Severance' Episode 3 Just Set Us on a Dangerous Path
Well, here we go! As much as we enjoyed returning to Lumon in the first two episodes of Severance season 2—Kier knows that it inspired many a fan theory—I'm sure you started to wonder exactly where the plot was heading. Episode 1 caught up with the Macrodata Refinement (MDR) crew in the aftermath of the season 1 finale, while episode 2 told us how the Overtime Contingency affected their Outies.
Episode 3? Well, the final moments outright tell us this season's A plot: The Great Reintegration of Mark Scout.
I'll break down the full scene later on in this recap, but can we just take a moment to appreciate how far Mark has come? His Outie just went from "She's alive!" refers to my infant nephew to rework the entire physiology of my brain so I can see my wife again in a single episode. Meanwhile, Innie Mark's transformation from corporate narc to union steward feels complete. And once again, I just have to show appreciation for Adam Scott's blisteringly human performance as both Marks. Kudos to him and the entire Severance crew.
Of course, we have quite a few other curiosities to catalog—Mammalians Nurturable?!—so let's dig into episode 3.
Damn You Meddling Kids and Your Severance Theories
Well, thanks to your collective work hauling ass on Reddit, I simply can't watch Severance without thinking that Helly R. is Helena Egan. For those of you who are new to Esquire's Severance coverage, fans have convinced themselves that—after the Overtime Contingency—Helena decided to trek down to the severed floor as Helly R. Why? Depends on how online you are. Tired: Corporate espionage. Wired: Helena wants to get freaky with Mark S. (See: "Mark S actually stands for Mark SeveralGirlfriends.")
Episode 3 definitely inches us even closer to the Helly-is-Helena reality, but let's start with the basics. The opening scene picks up with Harmony Cobel as she's taking a nap in her car, which is parked on the side of a highway. She turns on some music and resumes driving for a moment; later on, we see Cobel lose her shit again, turn around, and drive away. Elsewhere in this twangy opening sequence, Outie Mark counts the time it takes to go from his car to the Lumon office to the elevator. More on both storylines soon.
From there, we finally pick up with the Macrodata Refinement crew (MDR) for the first time since their glorious reunion in episode 1. Save for Dylan (who is very much sipping Lumon Kool-Aid after Milchick baited him with a family visitation) the team has a shared goal: Find Ms. Casey, by any means necessary. Those means, however, are pretty rudimentary—they print out sketches of Ms. Casey to pass around the severed floor. Mark's big plan is to take Helly on an adventure to "find the goat man and other possible goat people." Meanwhile, Irving is more concerned about telling Dylan that he's recreated his Outie's painting of the mysterious elevator. But Dylan is too Milchick-pilled to care.
Welcome to Mammalians Nurturable
Before we get to the Severance-does-DEI-with-insanely-perfect-timing scene, let's talk about goats. In season 1, episode 5, Mark and Helly unwittingly walked right into one of Severance's earliest mysteries: the goat room. They saw a man feeding a gaggle of baby goats next to a few stacks of hay. When Mark and Helly approached the man, he screamed, "They're not ready yet! It isn't time!"
Well, seven episodes later, it is time. Mark and Helly troll down another stretch of creepy hallways, retracing their steps from the last goat room run-in. On the way there, Helly has some... questions. She wants to know what will happen if MDR actually finds Ms. Casey. Mark senses the potentially jealous—or just romantically concerned—line of questioning. "Are you sure you’re okay helping me out with this?" he asks. Helly stops the mini-interrogation, only to later make awkward lovey eyes with Mark? Shoutout to Mark SeveralGirlfriends! Seriously, though—we shouldn't take this interaction as too out of the ordinary. In the world of Severance, it wasn't too long ago that they were making out in front of the elevator.
Anyway, welcome to Mammalians Nurturable. Mark and Helly crawl through a long hallway (clearly intended for smooth goat passage), only to find a cavernous office space with green, rolling hills on the other end. And a vending machine. Always a vending machine. But Mark and Helly are clearly welcome there. They meet Gwendolyn Christie's much-anticipated character, who is named Lush. "Are you here to kill me?" she asks. The MDR duo explains that they're simply searching for a missing colleague named Ms. Casey. Lush plays dumb, explaining that they found themselves in a department named Mammalians Nurturable and they "don’t abide such fripperies here." Lush rings a bell and summons the rest of the department: a bunch of dirtied farm workers wearing horned headpieces. (Side note: Do they have to shower before leaving the severed floor? Their Outies certainly couldn't live with the permanent goat smell.)
Eventually, Mark wins Lush over; she admits that Ms. Casey "used to come do her sessions in our husbandry tanks," and that if foul play is involved in her disappearance, "we won't hinder your search." Can someone help me with this husbandry tank bit? Google tells me that the term refers to an aquarium, but that would certainly add another complicated layer to Mammalians Nurturable. Fish are not mammals–I know that, at least!
Before parting ways, Lush asks if she can see Mark and/or Helly's belly button. "See?" she says. "Pouchless." Another worker quips, "Proves nothing." I'm not totally sure what to make of this, but do we put this interaction in the cloning camp? If the employees of Mammalians Nurturable don't have the word for "pregnant," do they just say "person with pouch?" But give me a hand with this husbandry tank business first, please.
"Looks Like Your Balloons Could Use Some Coffee"
Damn. This week, the new US presidential administration weaponised DEI into a derogatory political buzzword. Not to be outdone, Severance immediately entered the chat with a very Severance-y meta-commentary on hollow DEI efforts from big corporations. Early in the episode, Milchick walks into his office, only to find Natalie waiting for him—with the board on the phone. The topic at hand? I'll kick it to Natalie: “The board austerely desires for you to feel connected to Lumon’s history. To that end, please accept from the board these inclusively recanonicalised paintings intended to help you see yourself in Kier, our founder.” Milchick: "Oh. Oh my."
I couldn't have said it better myself. Milchick opens a book of artwork that reimagines past Lumon leaders (AKA the "Kier cycle") as Black men. He's horrified. Milchick looks to Natalie to, you know, acknowledge how fucked up the gift is. No dice. The board, per Natalie, wants him to know that she received the same gift and "found it extremely moving." It's a Corporate America classic: make a grand gesture in the name of inclusivity, only to have said gesture be incredibly racist in nature. That's about it for this scene, but—aside from the real-world subtext of this moment—Severance isn't one to begin a storyline and not pick it up again. Is this the first seed of Milchick's disillusionment with Lumon?
Are Innie Dylan and Outie Dylan Suddenly In a Love Triangle?!
The full look at the goat room was cool, but Dylan's eighteen-minute visitation event is what will linger with me through the weekend. Oh, did you think that Innie Dylan would meet Outie Dylan's wife, say hi, and that would be it? No. This storyline is about to turn incredibly weird.
Here's your first hint: Severance cast Merritt Wever as Dylan's betrothed, Gretchen. Wever isn't a day player. She has multiple Golden Globe and Emmy nominations under her belt. (Wever's 2013 Emmy award-winning speech for Nurse Jackie is an all-timer.) I sense that she's about to play a substantial role in the future of this show.
The visitation event, which really has the awkwardness and sexual tension of a Hinge date, starts on a predictably weird note ("Nice sack," says Dylan. Gretchen: "Sorry?") and ends in a place that verges on are they about to fuck? Dylan asks a ton of questions about his Outie; he soon learns that the man is, per his words, "actually kind of a fuck-up." Given that most Innies tend to worship and dream about the lives of their Outies, Innie Dylan learning that he's the better Dylan feels something like enlightenment. They part ways with a long hug (👀) and this back and forth:
Gretchen: "I love you."
Dylan: "Oh."
Gretchen: "Sorry. Habit."
When Gretchen returns home to her resident "fuck-up," she gives scant details as to what happened during the visitation event. Need I write more?
Meet Me In the Parking Lot
My word count in these recaps is truly spiraling out of control, so I must hit this episode's Cobel vs. Helena moment quickly. Turns out, Cobel drove all the way back to Lumon HQ to seemingly make one more ploy for the keys to the severed floor. "I intend to finish the work that I started," she says. "Milchick must go." Cobel and Helena trade a few one-liners with each other. (Helena's best burn: "I think you’ve overestimated your contributions and underestimated your blessings.") There's another mention of Mark's work on the all-important Cold Harbor file. Helena invites Cobel into the office to chat with the board, but Cobel takes one look at Helena's bodyguard and scampers away in fear.
Even by Severance's standards, I feel like the series is leaving us in the dark about Cobel's intentions this season. She's clearly motivated by her dead mother (peek Cobel's a-ha moment when she looks at the breathing tube in the car), but why did the idea of going inside Lumon scare her? What's the break-room equivalent for unsevered employees?
Reintegration Time!
Once again, folks, it's time for The Great Reintegration of Mark Scout. Throughout episode 3, Outie Mark finally musters the energy to do something about... well, everything. He tries to burn the message "WHO'S ALIVE?" into his retinas long enough for his Innie to see the words and figure out how to respond. There's not much to decode here: it doesn't work.
While Mark is hard at work blinding himself in his car, an old friend knocks on the door: Reghabi. Don't remember Reghabi? I had some trouble myself. Here's the essential info: She's a former Lumon employee who handled certain severance procedures (we don't know too much about her background); at some point, she left Lumon and began working against her former employer. Mainly, she apparently pioneered the reintegration procedure, which unsevers an employee by merging their Innies and Outies back together. We last saw Reghabi when she saved Mark from a disguised Lumon employee in Ganz College. The last thing she said to Mark: “I'll be in touch. It's going to be okay. We'll finish what Petey started.” I'm sorry, but we have to save Petey SparkNotes for another day. Just remember that reintegration killed Petey.
Mark isn't terribly happy to see Reghabi, but he changes his tune when she admits that Gemma was alive the last time she saw her. "How could you not tell me?" Mark asks. "We were interrupted, if you recall," says Reghabi. She then winds up for a sprawling pitch to convince Mark to reintegrate himself, but she has her answer after just a few words:
Reghabi: "I can sew together a version of you that loves her with a version of you that can—"
Mark: "Yes. Do it."
Reghabi is soon in Mark's basement, hooking wires to either side of his head. She asks him a few simple questions while turning up the power of her reintegration machine. Mark starts to see flickers of his Innie life, which culminates with the memory of waking up on a conference room table during his initiation to the severed floor.
And just like that, we've arrived at what might just be the crux of season 2's final seven episodes. Mark Scout will slowly, but surely (I hope) undergo reintegration. Reghabi says she's improved at the procedure, but reintegration is a dangerous path, no matter how you spin it. Honestly, I can't ignore the foreshadowing of Mark talking about his dog dying because he "left a gate open." It's precisely what Reghabi is doing to his brain—opening the gate.
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