The numbers aren’t the only scary thing.

Having set the scene, the function of a second episode is typically to begin to peel back the layers of the story and drip feed the juiciest bits to us. Well, that’s that box firmly ticked, then.

We continue to follow Helly (Britt Lower) on her newly severed journey. Anyone of a squeamish disposition might want to close their eyes until around the 4-minute mark, as we get up close and personal with the fictional science of how exactly someone has their memory bifurcated between their work and personal life. Helly has all the practical questions that we have: what if you realise you don’t like your job? How do you quit? What if you sneak a note to your ‘outie’ (outside-self)? Like a child, learning by testing their boundaries, try it, and find out.

Then there’s the thorny issue of what could drive a person to choose to be severed? To have no knowledge of work while at home, I can certainly see the appeal of that – but not to remember my personal life while at work? What would that feel like? Mark (Adam Scott) has the answers and I like how these logistical and behavioural aspects of the premise are covered for the audience so that we can follow the flow of the narrative without stumbling over these points as we watch. It’s nicely done.

In addition to the distinctive aesthetic, the musical accompaniment is worthy of a mention. There’s something dissonant in it, like a melody we’re used to hearing in a major key suddenly played in a minor one. It’s a perfect complement as that sense of unease with Lumon’s unusual corporate practices grows. There seems to be a lot of talk about wellbeing at work these days, but I doubt many employers offer the kind of wellbeing session we witness. Watch out here for a jaw-dropping and sublime cameo.

There’s a rebel pushing the envelope and the narrative and I’m already scared for him. Then, what on earth is that Lumon actually does? I was never that good at Maths but ‘scary’ numbers? What do they mean? What’s their encoding hiding?

Verdict: Meticulously crafted, multi-layered and insidious. 8/10

Claire Smith