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Film Features Film/TV

Severance

Do you ever feel like a different person at work? Everyone has a work persona they put on, especially if you deal with the general public. For some people, the difference between their work self and private self is vast. 

Severance, which just debuted its second season on Apple TV+, takes this observation to extremes. What if, instead of just watching your language and putting on a fake smile for work, you became an entirely different person? That’s what happens to Mark (Adam Scott) every time he steps into the elevator at Lumon Industries. He’s an “Innie,” someone who has had a chip implanted into his brain which creates a kind of split personality. When he’s in the office, he’s a macrodata refinement specialist, and not even he knows what that means. The work he and his co-workers perform just looks like staring into a computer screen and dragging random numbers and letters into a box. He doesn’t even know what criteria he’s applying. 

When he’s not at work, Mark is a depressed mess, a widower whose pain is so acute he chose to spend a third of his life with his mind wiped. He has no idea what goes on in the basement of Lumon Industries, and, at least at first, he doesn’t care. 

In season 1 of Severance, Innie Mark went from the model Lumon employee to being suspicious of his employer. And there’s much to be suspicious of. The Innies are indoctrinated into a weird cult of personality around late Lumon founder Kier Eagan (Marc Geller). When onboarding his newest co-worker Helly (Britt Lower) goes wrong, Mark takes the blame and gets a taste of the “benevolent” company’s discipline practice. At first, Mark’s suspicions fall on deaf ears, as Irving (John Turturro), a stickler for the rules, will hear no dissent. Eventually, Mark wants to know what his Outie is like, and, with the help of a secret group of formerly severed people, devises a plan that allows him to “wake up” outside. While there, he discovers a picture of himself with his wife and realizes that she is not dead. His Innie knows her as the company’s wellness specialist, Ms. Casey (Dichen Lachman). 

Season 1 ended with a big bang, as Innie Mark and Innie Helly disrupted a company event to reveal that Lumon is torturing the Innies. It was hard to imagine where showrunner Dan Erickson and executive producer Ben Stiller could go after that. It seems that they weren’t so sure either, so season 2 comes three years after season 1. Granted, they were interrupted by the WGA/SAG strikes, but the long-cooking first episode of the new season is promising. It takes place entirely within the confines of Lumon’s stark white, retro-futuristic offices. Innie Mark is back, and this time, it seems, he’s a willing subject. But he’s got a secret agenda — to find Ms. Casey, who has disappeared from her wellness center, and reconnect with the wife he thought he had lost. 

Severance’s metaphorical depiction of the alienation of labor in late-stage capitalism has struck a nerve. It’s not heavy-handed because it follows the rules suggested by the premise and expands on them to reveal more pieces of the bigger puzzle. The parade of heavy-hitting acting talent, including Patricia Arquette and Christopher Walken, doesn’t hurt either. Ultimately, the mystery boxes (why is Mark’s wife alive? What does Lumon Industries even do, anyway?) driving the plot are not the point. It’s the atmosphere of impersonal despair with a happy face plastered on top that makes Severance compelling television. 

Severance is streaming on Apple TV+.

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Film Features Film/TV

While We’re Young

So, Generation X is pushing middle age now. It’s okay. Our pop culture has been preparing us for it since the 1980s. The tone of Noah Baumbach’s new film While We’re Young is not that different from Douglas Coupland’s 1991 novel Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture that appropriated the name of Billy Idol’s first band and applied to us. Coupland’s cast of self-destructive, 20-something slackers had been told all their lives that they didn’t have it as good as their parents, the Baby Boomers. Their internalized, preemptive disappointment often looked like nihilism from the outside, but from the inside, it felt like fighting back with the only tool we had: refusal. The Baby Boomers wanted to change the world for the better, but it didn’t work out like they planned. We decided to opt out of the aspects of America we found stale and rancid. We took our characteristically defeatist motto from Nirvana: “Oh well/Whatever/Nevermind.” If our grandparents who won World War II were the Greatest Generation, we were the Grumpiest Generation.

Ben Stiller and Naomi Watts in While We’re Young

For Ben Stiller’s character Josh, the preemptive disappointment of the 1990s has given way to the muddled malaise of the 2010s. He’s a filmmaker whose first documentary Power Elite was well received by critics but is now available only via VHS tapes for sale on eBay. He’s been working on his follow-up doc for eight years now, but it’s still six hours long, and when he tries to explain what it’s about, he can only say, “It’s about America.” His wife Cornelia (Naomi Watts) is a movie producer who works with her father, a storied documentarian from the film verité days named Leslie Breitbart (Charles Grodin). Josh’s resentment of his father-in-law’s success and his own relative obscurity means they don’t get along very well, but otherwise, he and Cornelia seem to have a pretty good life in Brooklyn. But when their friends Fletcher (The Beastie Boys’ Adam Horovitz) and Marina (Maria Dizzia) have a baby, it brings some of their discontent bubbling to the surface.

That’s when Josh meets Jamie (Adam Driver) while delivering a lecture to indifferent college students, in a scene that recalls Holly Hunter’s ill-fated speech on journalistic integrity in Broadcast News. Jamie is an up-and-coming documentarian who has actually seen Power Elite. The two hit it off, and soon Jamie and his wife Darby (Amanda Seyfried) are hanging out with Josh and Cornelia on the regular, despite their 20-year age difference. Josh and Cornelia find themselves reinvigorated by their new friends, who have a spark of youth they seem to have lost. “They have all the stuff we threw out,” Cornelia says of their vinyl-listening, VHS-watching new besties. “It just looks so much better in their space.”

Naomi Watts in While We’re Young

Baumbach’s been directing arch indie comedies about uncertain slackers since 1995’s Kicking & Screaming, but While We’re Young seems like a welcome departure for the auteur. He first collaborated with Stiller on 2010’s Greenberg, but this time around the tone is more generous and extroverted. Stiller successfully walks (and sometimes pratfalls) the line between sympathetic and jerky, but by the end he seems to have grown — something that doesn’t always happen in a Baumbach film. Watts brilliantly brings depth and charm to a character who, in lesser hands, could come across as underwritten. Crucially, she and Stiller are totally believable as a couple who’ve been together for a while, but who are still in love. Girls co-star Driver just seems to get better and better, and he is great as the younger, hungrier version of Stiller’s Josh. Grodin represents the older, more successful version of Josh, and when it becomes clear that he has more in common with the hustler Jamie than his fussy perfectionism, it only fuels Josh’s resentment and pushes him into greater, more hilarious humiliations. The most surprising performance is by a bearded Horovitz as a wide-eyed new father. Who knew Ad-Rock could act? But that’s the charm of While We’re Young: It starts off as a familiar comedy of postmodern manners before opening up and embracing a wider world. Cheer up, it says to Gen X. Everybody’s in the same boat. Get over yourselves.