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Unmasking Mr. Milchick
In the latest episode of “Severance,” viewers gain an even deeper look at the unsettling Mr. Milchick, played by Tramell Tillman. Serving as the Severed Floor Supervisor under the massive corporate entity Lumon, Milchick always seems fully committed to ensuring the company’s secrets stay hidden. From the earliest episodes of season 1 all the way through the first two episodes of season 2, he stands out as highly ambitious, deeply loyal to the Eagan family legacy, and eerily indifferent to the well-being of the innies he oversees. Whether he is lying outright or mistreating the staff, he shrugs off the moral consequences. Furthermore, he appears comfortable betraying his superior, Ms. Cobel, if it means inching his way up the corporate ladder, reinforcing the impression that Milchick places personal advancement above any sense of ethical responsibility.
This week’s installment, titled “Who is Alive?”, peels back a new layer of Milchick’s character, suggesting there may be certain extremes of corporate absurdity that even he cannot fully abide. Since season 1, his fanatic dedication to Lumon often bordered on worship of the founding Eagan family. Yet for all his devotion, small glimmers of doubt—or at least hesitation—flicker whenever Lumon pushes boundaries in a direction he finds uncomfortable. It is no secret that Milchick favors order and discipline over empathy, but in this episode, viewers witness something that tests even his high tolerance for the corporation’s questionable maneuvers.
A Tipping Point
In a supposedly generous gesture, Lumon’s elusive board gifts Milchick a set of portraits depicting Kier Eagan, the company’s revered founder. However, the twist is that Kier’s skin has been portrayed in a deep, dark tone, mirroring Milchick’s own complexion. The board’s spokesperson, Natalie (Sydney Cole Alexander), explains that these are “inclusively recanonicalized paintings intended to help you see yourself like Kier.” This announcement sets the stage for an awkward, tension-filled moment. Milchick, who usually receives corporate praise with unwavering enthusiasm, seems caught off guard by the forced display of solidarity. Despite his eagerness to impress his bosses, the altered images leave him visibly uncomfortable, hinting at an unexpected limit to what he is willing to accept from Lumon.
As Milchick unwraps the box, the camera lingers on Natalie’s face in a drawn-out, suffocating shot. She hovers at his side, sporting a grin that stretches across her face—big enough to appear insincere. Natalie underlines her message by reminding him, “The board wishes to express that I, Natalie, received the same gift upon receipt of my current position, and found it extremely moving.” Her assurance of shared experience is delivered with a formality that seems rehearsed, and the ever-present smile underscores the artificial nature of Lumon’s presentation. The scene brims with an uncomfortable tension, as if Natalie is reasserting the board’s power while offering a pseudo-personal connection to Milchick.
Where Devotion Wavers
Up to this point, Mr. Milchick has proved that no measure—whether it involves lying to employees or double-crossing supervisors—would deter him from climbing Lumon’s ranks. However, this episode hints that corporate loyalty has its thresholds, even for someone as zealous as him. While Milchick may have little trouble controlling or punishing innies and gleaning favor from the higher-ups, altering Kier’s legacy to mirror his own image appears to stretch his loyalty to an uncomfortable extreme. The forced comparison between Milchick and Kier brings a new kind of tension to his storyline, leaving viewers to wonder if his unwavering faith in Lumon might finally crack under the weight of such a bizarre, racially charged “tribute.”
“I’m grateful,” Milchick says, hesitating. “It’s meaningful to see myself reflected in…” But before he can finish, the board ends the call. The tension in this scene is emblematic of Severance, a show where everyone seems determined to hide their real feelings. Milchick appears genuinely moved by the gesture as he speaks, but how much of his gratitude is authentic remains uncertain. When the board’s screen goes dark, a lengthy, uneasy silence follows. Both Milchick and Natalie, who have climbed the corporate ladder while being people of color, profess appreciation for these repainted portraits of the Eagan family in their likeness. Yet in that long pause, neither of them seems truly comfortable.
A New Low for Lumon
Their stoic reactions hint at complicated emotions lurking beneath. This gift, intended to appear inclusive, instead comes across as a shallow attempt at forced representation. Milchick’s silence might indicate a reluctance to challenge Lumon’s practices, or perhaps a growing doubt in the company’s supposedly benevolent intentions. On the surface, he has always been the model employee, firmly committed to keeping the company line. But even as he voices gratefulness, his pauses and subdued manner suggest an underlying discomfort that is difficult to ignore.
By now, one might expect that Severance could offer no further astonishment regarding Lumon. The very idea of severance already borders on modern slavery, merely hidden behind layers of technology and bureaucracy. Season 2 goes a step further by revealing that a child is also employed at the corporation, emphasizing just how morally bankrupt Lumon truly is. Everything about the company’s setup screams exploitation, packaged under a condescending, pristine façade. Audiences fully understand Lumon’s malevolence; the real question is how much of it those at the top actually acknowledge.
Doubt Among the Devoted
Characters like Mr. Milchick and Helena (Britt Lower) exemplify this conundrum because they seem fully committed to Lumon. Yet subtle changes in their demeanor—hesitation here, a small flicker of regret there—suggest they might be less certain than they pretend. Both individuals are ostensibly devoted to Lumon’s creed, yet cracks in their resolve keep appearing, hinting that their enthusiastic loyalty is not quite as stable as Lumon wants us to believe. It is these moments of lingering doubt that transform the show’s corporate thriller into a character study, revealing that even the most fervent supporters can succumb to moral reckoning.
It seems that Helena is developing a sense of envy toward her innie counterpart, Helly, who has established a supportive network of friends and even discovered genuine self-worth—assets that outie Helena noticeably lacks. Observing Helly’s thriving relationships and confident demeanor reveals a stark contrast in how each version of Helena experiences the world. This internal tension becomes more evident as the season advances, with hints that Helena’s resentment may grow deeper and potentially drive some unexpected decisions. After all, it cannot be easy to see your alternative self claiming the very happiness and validation you still yearn for.
Meanwhile, there is a revealing glimpse of Mr. Milchick in the “Who is Alive?” episode, suggesting he may not be as profoundly affected by Lumon’s recent gesture as he initially pretended. Toward the episode’s conclusion, he carefully wraps up those paintings of Black Eagen and discreetly sets them aside in his office—a subtle move that indicates his unwillingness to fully embrace what he regards as shallow tokenism. Even for someone who appears so intensely devoted to Lumon, the forced racial symbolism goes too far, giving him pause for possibly the first time on record.
A Glimmer of Rebellion
Given everything we have learned about Lumon and its oppressive hold over employees, viewers can only hope that this marks the start of Milchick reassessing his role as the company’s most committed foot soldier, rather than a fleeting episode of self-awareness. After all, the innies desperately need any possible ally they can get in their ongoing struggle. Should Milchick grow increasingly uncomfortable with Lumon’s manipulative tactics, he might become an unlikely source of support for them. In a place like Lumon, where misinformation reigns, even one small act of rebellion could open new doors for those stuck under corporate control.
As we were starkly reminded by Ms. Cobel’s breakdown in the final moments of season 1, it is frequently the most fervent followers within a cult who eventually break down with the greatest intensity. The notion that Milchick or Helena could reach a snapping point casts a foreboding shadow over the rest of the season. These revelations, combined with the seeds of doubt taking root in the minds of those previously thought unshakable, intensify the atmosphere surrounding Lumon’s menacing operations. Watching these characters wobble under the weight of their own allegiances only reinforces the notion that cracks may be forming in the corporation’s impenetrable facade.
