I’ve always thought of Severance as a show that operates like the recession of a shore before a tsunami hits—a slow, deliberate pulling back of the water, giving us a brief glimpse of what’s to come. Episode 209 feels like just that: a setup for something much, much larger. It’s subtle, yet heavy with the promise of looming chaos. It’s like the calm before the storm—but we all know the storm is coming, and it’s going to hit hard.
And it’s not just the narrative that makes this episode stand out—it’s the masterful use of camera work, expansive lore, acting, and, above all, the writing. If you’ve ever found yourself drawn to a show that feels like it’s simultaneously everywhere and nowhere, Severance is that show. “It’s kinda like Lost in an office” you might hear someone describe Severance. Yet, unlike Lost—a show with a similar knack for mystery but a far less cohesive throughline—Severance moves forward with a clear, relentless purpose.
It deviates, sure, but it’s all in service of something larger. That something is Gemma, whose story—whether through her connection to Mark, her role in Lumon, or what she ultimately represents—is the driving force of the show. Season 2 has made it crystal clear: Gemma’s fate, the conclusion to her story, one way or another, is the hard fade-to-black deadline. The show is building toward that moment, and it’s pulling us inexorably in that direction. The narrative may twist and turn, but it’s all leading to her—her connection to the larger mystery of Lumon, and whatever larger truths she holds. The fade-to-black ending is inevitable, but before we get there, there’s a lot left to uncover.
Moving into the episode itself, it’s a mix of moments—some unsettling, some strangely poignant—that all come together to keep us engaged. Christopher Walken and John Turturro deliver, unsurprisingly, their usual brilliance, but Episode 209 gives us another chance to see them explore more complex emotional territory. Burt’s character, in particular, takes us through an incredible arc. The show built him up to be this lovable, sweet, smart old gay man, only for the revelation that he was and has been a hitman sent to execute his innie lover, Irv. It’s a sharp turn, especially when you mix in the discourse woven about souls and innocence—powerful motifs that run throughout the show. But in the end, Burt doesn’t kill Irv. He saves him, sending him off somewhere with the truth of his feelings, telling him he loved him. For Irv, it’s a love he’s never had before, and it gives him a chance to leave with a smile, a rare moment of peace for a character who’s seen so much turmoil. If Irv doesn’t return, it serves as a beautiful, sweet bookend to his journey.
Milkshake’s moments in this episode are entirely different but just as crucial. His quick moments with Miss Huang, Mr. Drummond, and Mark aren’t lighthearted exchanges—they’re tense power struggles. Milkshake fucks over this sweet, earnest kid, showing just how toxic his behavior has been, only to find himself nearly fucked over by his boss. For the first time, Milkshake grows a spine and tells his boss to eat shit, reclaiming a sense of humanity he’d lost. Then, when his subordinate calls him, asking for the same humanity Milkshake just reclaimed, it breaks him. For the first time, Milkshake begins to truly grow. He sees the folly of his ways and the impact it has on the actions of those around him and the impact is clear and evident. It’s all packed into just a few minutes, and in those moments, we see the raw emotional depth Severance can bring out of even the most chaotic characters.
As for the larger episode, much of the story hinges on the continued unraveling of the mystery at Lumon, but Severance never leaves us without emotional grounding. Dylan’s sequences in this episode are a perfect example of this. His emotional development, set against the backdrop of Lumon’s controlled chaos, is both heartbreaking and invigorating. His scenes, while brief, add depth to the idea that even within these rigid, isolating systems, there are moments of real connection. Dylan’s struggle, his choice between loyalty to the cause or doing what he believes is right, carries the weight of everything that’s happening at Lumon—and beyond it.
And then there’s Devon. Her immediate reaction to Mark’s reintegration—why did she call Cobel incessantly? Was she just being a dutiful family member, or is there something much deeper at play? It’s almost as if she knows far more than we’re led to believe about the inner workings of Lumon. But let’s not forget: Cobel just revealed that she made Severance—and no one else, except for us and Sissy, seems aware of that. So why is Devon, in the middle of this crisis, reaching out to the woman who not only invaded their privacy but also caused irreparable damage to their family? The motivations here are murky, and it raises serious questions about Devon’s awareness and intentions.
This brings me to Ricken. I’ve got a theory, and it’s a little wild, but hear me out.
Remember Rebeck from Ricken’s book reading in Season 1’s finale? She’s the woman Mark shares a book with, and she’s friends with Ricken. Rebeck is described as strange—apparently smelling bad and doing this odd chewing noise, almost like she’s “chewing on nothing.” This brings me to goats, because goats also chew on nothing. It’s a weird, specific detail, but one that stands out when you consider the motifs in Severance.
Now, here’s where it gets even more bizarre: Ricken is married to Devon, Mark’s sister, and they just had a daughter. They named her middle name Rebeck, as revealed in Ricken’s book, which was part of the Season 2 marketing rollout. This is a small but significant detail, particularly when you connect it to the strange, goat-like imagery surrounding Ricken.
Devon later shows Mark a photo of Ricken climbing a mountain, and he eerily resembles a mountain goat. Not making this up. Then, shortly after, Ricken loses his voice and starts bleating. It’s impossible to ignore the thematic link here.
Goats are a huge motif in Severance—from the goat people to the unsettling animated images in the opening credits, where a man jumps into a body and becomes a goat. It all ties together, but the connection to Ricken and Rebeck becomes especially intriguing. Could they have been part of the “revolving” test, somehow linked to the concept of goats in Lumon’s experiments? Is there a connection between Ricken, Rebeck, and the idea of goats as part of the larger mystery at play in Lumon’s experiments?
Let’s start with the goat milker from Season 1. When Mark and Helly stumble upon him, he shoos them away, exclaiming that the goats aren’t ready, as if he were expecting them to take the goats and do something with them. It’s an odd moment, especially when we consider the larger context of the show. We’ve also seen humans displaying goat-like characteristics, as highlighted previously, making the line between human and goat even more blurred. In a universe where neural blocks are being created and there’s an ambiguous body-sharing chemistry experiment called “revolving,” it seems like we may need to come to terms with the idea that Ricken might, in fact, be a literal goat.
In episode 209, Devon also ditches her typical blue wardrobe for a black turtleneck ensemble straight out of Cobel, Jame, & Milkshakes closet. Coincidence? Probably not. The show uses color & clothing as a recurring motif to highlight motivations, roles, & even worlds; Innies wear blue, Outies wear red, authority figures wear black.
Speaking of those who wear black, let’s look at Helly and Jame. Something’s off there too. Helly has been pushing against the status quo, but what if her rebellion goes deeper than we think? What if she’s out to hijack Cold Harbor for herself, attempting to establish a revolution against the very system she’s become part of? Is she becoming the very thing she fought against? Or is that the “revolving” in action: the system creating agents of chaos within itself to ensure its own survival? My guess is that Helly and Helena will be the ones to explore the testing floor.
It has been made semi-clear that Helena has some tangible link to what’s happening with Cold Harbor. Her ID number is displayed multiple times in connection to its development rather than Jame, or even Mark. Let’s not forget James’ foreboding words at the end of 209. “You tricked me, my dear Helly.” Is he addressing Helly for the first time since season 1? Or does he believe Helly is still Helena and that’s a pet name for her? We saw Helena have the coveted “Egg Party” at the onset of the episode only to be ridiculed for how she “takes them.” There is a clear divide here that will likely culminate in something parallel to Gemma & Mark’s throughline, especially when you consider Helena’s truly insane obsession with Mark.
Severance thrives on chaos and ambiguity, yes. But what sets it apart from other shows is that even amid all the madness, there’s a clear narrative pushing us forward. We’ve spent time in Salts Neck and Woes Hollow, met some strange characters (goat people included), and faced twists that could send us in any direction. But we’re always moving toward one thing: Gemma and Miss Casey. The answers are out there, just waiting to be uncovered.
So no, we don’t have everything figured out just yet. But that’s the beauty of Severance—it’s not about understanding everything right away. It’s about letting the world unfold, piece by piece, until we’re standing at the epicenter of whatever storm is coming.
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