Attachment in Severance
What's with those baby goats?
If you’re new here, read this quick primer on the Story Energies, a new way to talk about storytelling.
The self is a story. We tell it to our selves all the time—this is who I am, this is where I’ve been, this is where I’m going. And it becomes a kind of self-fulfilling prophesy, if you’ll excuse me. A certain coherence emerges, imbued with what feels like permanence and authenticity—the real me.
But what if, by dint of some mysterious, technological innovation, my self was split in two—my work self, and my home self? If my selves go on to have different experiences, with different people in different circumstances, will they become, essentially, different?
Like a lot of people recently, I’ve been watching Severance on Apple TV. Along with the compelling strangeness of its central premise—the split self—the show keeps us hooked by continually introducing new questions with which to tease us.
The basic ‘how is this possible?’ queries are set aside early on by chips planted directly into brains; the ‘why would anyone choose to do this?’ by a tragic death and the spectre of fathomless grief. But still: who is this company, Lumon Industries, and what exactly are their plans for their severed workforce? What is behind their cult-like adulation for the company founder, Kier? What do those numbers on our heroes’ monitors represent? What’s with those baby goats?
And questions, of course, beg answers. It’s our storytelling instinct again—we tell stories in order to answer the questions set for us by our experiences.
One neat thing a speculative story can do is add new layers of Mystery to our already mysterious existence. And Severance offers us a great example of how a story can activate our craving for answers by posing new questions. And if we have a sense that an answer is just around the corner, our need to understand what the hell is going on can generate real tension. And because the characters in the show are straining to find out what is happening, they take us on their exploratory journey with them. And if they brave risks on that journey, we will hold our breaths when they do, and beat our hearts with theirs.
In our terms, the Mysteries presented by the story world generate Gravitational Energy. When tension and suspense are created by the quest to solve those mysteries, that’s Elastic Energy.
And one thing about Elastic Energy is that it requires Ballast. We need something solid to strain against, or we’ll fall flat on our faces. If a story presents me with too many questions, too many unknowns, I can get tired of all the straining to understand what’s going on, and lose patience. Especially if I haven’t had a chance to form any kind of meaningful bond with any of the characters.
And one thing that Severance is doing really well is balancing the high-concept intrigue with solid character-based story. Mark S., our hero from the title sequence, is humanised not only by his grief, but also by his ‘normal’, close relationship with his ‘normal’ sister, who has just had a baby. And by his connections with his work colleagues in the Macrodata Refinement department—Helly R., Dylan G., and Irving B.—who each in turn become more complex characters as the episodes roll by.
To help generate this character-based story, there is Potential Energy revealed to us as the story continues—in the form of Mark’s self-help-guru brother-in-law, for example, and Helly’s overbearing father. And there’s Magnetic Energy in the bonds that develop between the characters—Dylan’s animosity towards the ‘rival’ Optics and Design department, for example, or Irving’s attraction to Burt G., that department’s head.
Ballast is also provided by more Gravitational Energy, generated by the social norms built in to this story world (or the Manners the characters are constrained by). Establishing ‘normal’ ways of behaving help give us that feeling of solid ground on which to stand on, and spring from.
Another neat trick Severance pulls is how these Manners are fostered in the workplace by Lumon Industries. Employees are motivated by a range of perks, from pencil erasers and finger traps to the pretty wild Waffle Party in Season One’s finale. And by a company mythology, reinforced by regular discussions of the value of the work they are doing, even if the nature of that work itself, and what its value might be, exactly, remains obscure.
These are caricatured, but recognisable, versions of real-life motivational techniques used by corporations (especially in tech). Also recognisable are the bonds that form between co-workers when they feel mistreated by the company—because Mark and his team all come to feel oppressed by Lumon, they suddenly have something important in common with one another (more Magnetic Energy). And they will need to work together in order to find out what is going on, and to avoid being punished by their superiors (more Elastic Energy).
One more way to create Ballast in the form of both Potential and Gravitational Energy is to think about the Values held by the characters and their communities—the things they believe in, care about, consider to be important.
One value that keeps cropping up in Severance is loyalty. Mark’s loyalty to his fired best friend, and to his sister. Dylan’s loyalty to his family, and Helly’s to hers. Irving’s loyalty to Burt. Employees’ loyalty to their company, and the company’s loyalty to them. Team members’ loyalty to each other. The loyalty of the work self (innie) to the home self (outie), and vice versa.
Note that while Mysteries are obviously based on questions, Manners are founded upon shared assumptions. Colleagues often work hard together because they assume their work has value, or because they share a loyalty to their company or their department. But once a character starts questioning the value of the assumption—is it actually important for me to meet this quota?—deeper Mysteries again begin licking at their heels. To whom, or what, should a person be loyal?
If my self splits into two distinct selves, and if circumstances one day conspire so that what is left of ‘I’ somehow has to choose a side—it’s hard to imagine a more profound choice a self could have to make.
So what can we storytellers learn from Severance?
We can generate Elastic Energy by making things increasingly strange, particularly if the weirdness of our story world echoes, in some way, the weirdness of our everyday lives.
We can balance the tense uncertainty generated by the Mysteries of our story world with clearly established Manners— ‘normal’ behaviour our characters can conform to, to fit in with the world around them.
Tension requires Ballast, in the form of solid, character-based story—people who care about things, and each other—to be most effective.
Giving your characters and their communities related Values—making them all care about different forms of loyalty, for example—can help your story feel cohesive and coherent.
What about you? Are you watching Severance? Are you hooked by its Mysteries? Grounded by its Manners? Do you have one coherent true self? Let me know in the comments!
For more on how to generate Potential Energy by considering the things your characters believe in—the values they hold—read this:
For more on using Mysteries and Manners to generate Gravitational Energy, read this:
