So, have you seen the eight-hour Severance loop?
Recently, while working, I’ve had one eye on an eight-hour compilation from the Apple TV Youtube channel. Designed as an undistracting companion piece to the recent second series of Severance, “Music to Refine to” is a strangely hypnotic experience.
While it was designed to be the sort of “second screen experience” executives crave, its air of unreality and intentional bizzareness is somewhat intoxicating, much like the series it is based on.
The music of Odesza drew me into the loop like a piper’s call. I discovered the Washington-based electronic band a few months before, so their recent collaboration with the show came straight to my feed.
The loops only real promise is being somewhat less unpleasant than an average workday, therefore bringing the listeners average enjoyment up slightly. But this eight-hour video crosses over into the realms of “an experience”, and I think it might be the casual work of a genius. This uncertainty is part of the experience, leaning further into the uncanny world created by the show, and paradoxically reinforces my theory that there is something to learn here.
All this is high praise for something that is, ultimately, a twenty-minute musical loop played over clips from the recent show. Except for… is that what it really is?
An elevator dings
The audio remains mostly unchanged throughout the eight hours, starting out with the a more upbeat version of the piano motifs made familiar in Severence‘s titles. From there, it eases into the sort of lo-fi hip hop made famous by “the chill beats girl”, an icon of exam revision for an entire generation. For those who have not encountered her, have a look for “beats to study to” on Youtube, and take a look at the number of people watching one of the various streams at any time of day.
However, while the short clip from the Studio Ghibli film Whisper of the Heart aims to create a cozy environment, the workfloor in Severance could not be more different. But to this beat, anything could seem inviting.
At times, this tone crosses over into being pleasant and almost comforting. Is working at Lumon really so bad? Perhaps Severance is just anti-company propoganda, and we’ve been taken in. Maybe you really can find peace by casting their workday worries away.
The elevator dings, the keyboard clacks, and drawers rattle as they open and close. All sounds heard in the series, in most offices, and in corporate heaven, where the coffee machine is maintained and HR never calls. All these sound sound effects are woven into the audio of the loop, as well as an occasional goat bleat.
You see what they want you to see
The visuals are mostly taken from the show’s second series, meaning the haunting recurrence of the Exports Corridor, and abandoned bunches balloons with Adam Scott’s face on them.
There are some similarities loop-to-loop: Miss Wong won’t stop playing with her ring-tossing toy, Mr Melchick often lets himself into Break Room. There’s Dylan, unnerved by a static painting, and the cleaning of the office never ends.
But within this you find yourself second-guessing what you see. Did we just see Mark S stride confidently to his computer? Has the work he is completing progressed at all? As Mark S and Helly R roam the corridors of the Severed floor, you can never be sure that they come to the same rooms in every exploration.
The order of the visuals used in the loop isn’t easily deduced, and there is just enough variation to keep you guessing throughout each one-hour section. Among the extracts from the series are plenty of clips that seem new, likely deleted scenes from the series. However, it is difficult to work out where some of these would fit into the show, offering a possible hint at the events of the next series.
The music keeps a consistent pace, with visuals often sprinting down the anonymous corridors of the Severance‘s sterile workplace. But glimpses of Mr Melchick sprinting away, or the missing Miss Casey give a sudden jolt of anxiety into the pleasant surroundings.
And, increasing as the eight hours progress, are quick shots that definitely do not belong in an office utopia, occasional fleeting hints that all is not well.
Take a sigh and watch paint dry
Every hour of work is “rewarded” with a one-minute break, accompanied by a “reassuring” maxim to help you refine your macrodata. “You’re not alone”, the viewer is reminded, “we’ve hired people to work with you!”.
Three and a half hours in, the viewer is treated to a Music and Dance Experience, of the sort seen in series one. Clearly, some effort must have gone into the editing of the loop, but how much? How deep does that rabbit hole go?
As the hours progress, the visuals start to decay slightly, becoming increasingly affected with the sort of interference that plagued video cassettes. But after several hours on the severed floor, the workplace of the TV series, you have a reasonable expectation of what is to come, until things change again in their final hour.
In the series, main character Mark S undergoes an operation to merge his personalities. After seven hours into the loop, the video starts to see the effects of this. The visuals become heavily unstable, wobbling as if ready to burst.
The final loop takes a hint from the final episode of the series, with Helly and Mark frantically sprinting through the severed floor, lit by emergency lighting while sirens silently sound, in another intentionally-inserted sequence, using clips not seen in the show.
Here we see Helly and Mark separated by a fire door, fighting to return to each other, and Helly lying on the floor. Given that this video released with the start of the series, these visuals may be intentionally misleading, but could also be an aborted plot for the final episode, or a hint at filmed scenes for an upcoming series. Again, the air of uncertainty keeps the viewer guessing, at least for the viewers who were watching seven-and-a-half hours in.
As the video approaches eight hours, what once seemed inviting is now distinctly off-putting. Mirroring the workplace of Severance, or an average workday, or perhaps my mental state after watching this eight-hour video, in full, multiple times, staying in this worker’s idyll now seems repulsive. But there lies the last trick of the loop: it plays with your brain.
I have since tried to find work music as inviting and reassuring, or anything which helps me remain as productive as during these severed hours. But now even the thought of work invites the opening piano tones of Severance’s theme tune, easing me into a relaxing, glorious, several hours of hard work. Perhaps this is good. Perhaps I need to take a look at myself.
But as the situation in Severance comes to a head, so does the video loop, as if the characters there are just another personality of the characters in the main series. After alarms and panic, and ominous hints of a dark future, what becomes of the severed workers? What happens to Mark S, as if it could be any different to what we might expect?
Ultimately, as with leaving any job, things end with an anti-climax. Mark S leans back in his chair, shuts off the work stations, and turns off the lights of Macrodata Refinement. He climbs into the lift, toys with his keycard, and heads home.Â