When we think of a dystopian aesthetic, we often imagine dark cities, invasive technology, and chaotic environments. But Severance—the Apple TV+ series directed by Ben Stiller and created by Dan Erickson—takes the opposite approach: the monstrous resides in what’s perfectly ordered.
What if you could literally separate your work life from your personal life? That mental split is mirrored visually: the space is designed to erase all traces of individuality. Every design decision acts as a metaphor for absolute control.
The setting draws heavily from 1960s and 70s corporate modernism: low ceilings, white lighting, soft carpets, modular desks. Yet it’s not nostalgic—it’s suffocating. Nothing stands out. Everything repeats. The space is intentionally devoid of identity.
One of Severance’s most striking elements is its color palette. Institutional greens, washed-out beiges, and bluish grays dominate the screen. The result is a hollow, soulless aesthetic that often feels like a poorly rendered 3D simulation.
The series also relies on the classic 60-30-10 interior design principle: 60% dominant color, 30% secondary, and 10% accent—used here to create balance but also reinforce visual rigidity. Nothing is out of place. Everything is calibrated to control you.
Every frame in Severance is a masterclass in visual theory. Straight lines, repetition, flat colors, and the absence of windows or reflections build an anesthetized atmosphere. Characters become part of the system itself. Each episode maintains a near-surgical level of chromatic coherence. Color, in this context, becomes emotional narrative.
In Severance, design isn’t meant to please. There are no personal touches, no decorative items, no soul—and that’s exactly what makes it so disturbing. Minimalism here isn’t a style—it’s a system of oppression. What should ease the workday—furniture, order, space—becomes part of the punishment. Design becomes ideology.
Beyond script or dialogue, the show operates on the strength of its art direction. Everything—the light, the scale, the color, the emptiness—works together to make you feel what the characters feel: disconnection, depersonalization, claustrophobia.
In an age where design is often about inspiring or stirring emotion, Severance dares to show how design can also suppress, control, or erase. And that makes it not just an exceptional series, but a powerful visual critique of corporate life—one that feels more familiar than we’d like to admit.
