I can’t believe it’s not Helvetica + Spoiler

Few shows in recent years have managed to create such an unsettlingly perfect corporate dystopia as "Severance". Every detail, from the sterile lighting to the eerie office layout, feeds into a world where work isn’t just a job—it’s an identity. But beyond the set design and philosophical horror, one of "Severance’s" most subtle but effective tools is typography. The title font, a custom creation by Teddy Blanks, is inspired by Helvetica and other corporate typefaces, evoking a sense of cold professionalism that perfectly suits Lumon Industries. Meanwhile, the show's primary typeface, Forma DJR, a modern revival of classic grotesque fonts, amplifies this effect with its stark, impersonal design. Together, they shape a visual language that reinforces the unsettling uniformity of the severed world.

This isn't just a coincidence; it’s a deliberate branding move. In the same way that Stanley Kubrick weaponised typography in "2001: A Space Odyssey" to create an unsettlingly sleek vision of the future, "Severance" uses fonts to strip away individualism, leaving behind only the cold precision of corporate design. But Forma DJR isn’t alone in crafting Lumon’s world. The show employs a carefully curated selection of typefaces to reinforce its themes. Alongside Forma DJR, the designers use Manifold Extended CF, Optima, Input Sans, and Scriptorama Tradeshow JF, each contributing to Lumon’s carefully controlled aesthetic. Manifold Extended CF, with its rigid, mechanical structure, dominates the company’s branding, setting the tone for its corporate identity. Optima, with its softer, humanist touch, appears in unexpected places, hinting at a thin veneer of warmth masking something more rigid underneath. Meanwhile, Input Sans, used in moments of psychological tension, and the script-like Scriptorama Tradeshow JF add subtle layers to the show’s visual language. Together, these typefaces construct a world where typography isn’t just design—it’s part of the control mechanism. To dive into all “Severance” fonts, click the link at the end of the article.

This obsession with corporate branding invites an interesting comparison to "American Psycho". The infamous business card scene in that film is a battle of aesthetics, where fonts and paper stock become symbols of hierarchy, identity, and power. "Severance" takes this fixation on corporate perfection but subverts it in a chilling way—where "American Psycho’s" characters cling to their self-worth through branding, "Severance’s" workers have no self at all. They exist only in the world of Lumon, where even their typography is devoid of personality. Branding is not just a means of expression but a means of control. The sterile office spaces, the colour-coded divisions, the retro-futuristic computer interfaces—all of it reinforces an environment where personal agency is diminished. The typography reflects this bleak efficiency, leaving no room for flourish, no room for individual preference. The calculated use of fonts becomes another layer of psychological conditioning, subtly communicating to both characters and audience that Lumon’s world is built on uniformity and compliance.

But for all its brilliance, "Severance" is trapped in the walled garden of Apple TV+. Despite becoming the platform’s most-watched series, Apple TV+ holds a fraction of the market share compared to Netflix or Amazon Prime. As of 2023, Apple TV+ accounted for roughly 8% of the market in some territories, far below the reach of its streaming competitors. While Apple TV+ prioritises prestige over mass appeal, much like HBO once did, "Severance’s" slow-burn dystopian horror needs a broader audience to cement its cultural impact. If it had landed on a more dominant platform, it could have been the next "Black Mirror"—a show referenced and meme’d into the public consciousness. Instead, it risks being a masterpiece admired in niche circles rather than a global phenomenon.

The exclusivity of Apple TV+ means that "Severance" doesn’t have the same algorithmic push that something like "Squid Game" or "Stranger Things" enjoys. Netflix’s infrastructure allows its biggest hits to trend for weeks, generating endless discourse, memes, and cultural imprints. In contrast, Apple TV+ relies on critical acclaim and word of mouth, which can limit long-term audience engagement. Even its most popular series, like "Ted Lasso", thrive within certain demographics rather than breaking into mainstream dominance. "Severance" is a series that demands discussion—it thrives on its unsettling ambiguity, on the details that become more apparent with rewatches. Yet, because it is locked behind a smaller streaming service, its reach is inherently capped, making it harder for it to gain the viral momentum that fuels cultural longevity.

And now the spoiler. Not really a spoiler, more of a prediction. In pure dystopian style, we asked ChatGPT to give away the ending. And that’s what it came up with.

Based on "Severance’s" world-building and narrative trajectory, the ending is unlikely to offer easy resolution. Given its thematic focus on corporate control, identity fragmentation, and systemic oppression, it’s unlikely that Mark and the others will simply escape. Instead, expect an escalation in Lumon’s control—possibly a revelation that the "outie" world isn’t as free as it seems. A likely scenario is that the workers' rebellion backfires, revealing that the outside world is complicit in or reliant on Lumon’s operations. There could be a "Brazil"-like ending, where freedom is either an illusion or impossible under the system. Perhaps Mark, after fighting so hard to integrate his two selves, discovers that he was never meant to leave—that his entire existence is a controlled experiment, and even his resistance was part of the plan.

A more tragic twist could involve the complete erasure of the "innie" selves, resetting the cycle entirely. Lumon may opt for an extreme measure—wiping memories completely, turning the workers into true blank slates, without even the limited consciousness they once had. This would align with the show’s existential horror: the idea that identity is fragile, and in the end, we might not own ourselves at all. Alternatively, the ending could reveal an even larger structure at play. What if Lumon isn’t the only company implementing severance technology? What if the world beyond Lumon is filled with corporations doing the same, effectively erasing any chance of true autonomy? This would be the most haunting conclusion of all—not just that the workers of Lumon were trapped, but that the entire world has been engineered to keep individuals from ever truly being free.

No matter the direction, "Severance" will likely avoid catharsis, leaving viewers with a lingering unease—just like its branding, its world, and the quiet horror of a life that isn’t truly yours.

Severeance Typography