A Brilliant Indie Video Game Inspired The Creator Of Severance

This post contains spoilers for "Severance" and "The Stanley Parable."

Picture this: you're an employee in a stark office building, tasked to monitor seemingly nonsensical data on a computer screen. All you need to do is press appropriate buttons on your keyboard without question, and repeat the process till you reach a certain quota. That is until one day, something strange and untoward happens, making you question the very fabric of your existence and immediate reality. No, this is not a peek into the purpose of the MicroData Refinement (MDR) department in "Severance," but the contextual premise of "The Stanley Parable," the critically acclaimed video game that positions choice at its center. The similarities between the Apple TV+ show and the brilliant indie game don't stop here, as these thematic overlaps exist for a reason. Turns out, "Severance" creator Dan Erickson drew inspiration from "The Stanley Parable," as confirmed in a 2022 Reddit AMA.

The inspirations for the show are not confined to this game, of course, as Erickson also cites "The Matrix," "Naked Lunch" and "The Backrooms" (!) for shaping the overarching themes of corporate absurdity and authoritarian control in "Severance." But "The Stanley Parable" emerges as the aesthetic blueprint for Lumon's hellish, labyrinthine halls that harbor endless secrets, which feeds into the lack of agency that Stanley/Lumon innies have. Moreover, the game's narrative structure is worth examining, as it highlights the illusion of choice, the gap between the protagonist and player choices, and the role of a mysterious, omniscient presence overseeing every possible scenario.

In a traditional video game arc, Stanley and the player's journeys should overlap (or be the same to an extent), but "The Stanley Parable" shatters this notion. It's almost as if Stanley is our innie, manipulated into doing our bidding while given the illusion of freedom and free will. Let's explore the whimsical, thought-provoking world of "The Stanley Parable."

To call "The Stanley Parable" a metanarrative is an understatement. It is a video game that rattles the integrity of the genre's established rules and creates tension between the player's will and that of the game's narrative. To understand this better, let's establish the game's central premise. After working like a mindless drone for an unspecified amount of time, Stanley finds himself completely alone in his office, his blank computer screen offering no clues for what's to come next. Robbed of purpose, Stanley is overwhelmed by a burst of autonomy: he can easily get up and leave, or do whatever he wants in the absence of the corporate machine.

However, he's greeted by an omniscient voice that calls himself The Narrator, who urges Stanley to follow his instructions to a T if he wants to escape to safety. Whenever Stanley (or to be precise, the player) diverts from this established path, strange events get triggered, proving that choice is nothing but an illusion. There are moments when you think you've beat the game or outsmarted the narrator, but every outcome that is a part of the game's 46 (!!!) endings is a predetermined one, with all combinations of player choices being accounted for. Oftentimes, the game's integrity crumbles when you try to break the fourth wall, such as when you try to jump off an M.C. Escher-esque staircase one too many times to prematurely cut off Stanley's existence. This element makes "The Stanley Parable" a game that thrives on player ingenuity, as every "uncharacteristic" player choice is a declaration of free will, which comes with its own set of consequences.

One of the game's narrative branches exposes the office as a mind control hub, with millions of surveillance screens lining a massive wall. These screens closely monitor every employee, who are only identified through numbers, like test subjects in an experimental lab. This is not far off from Lumon's treatment of their severed employees, as control/surveillance is an integral aspect of how they function. The only difference is that Lumon is far more nefarious, masking their intentions with polite corporate-speak and hollow assurances of employee satisfaction. 

Among the game's many endings, there are ones that mock the idea of safety and comfort, such as the Heaven ending, where Stanley can push buttons as long as he wants in a cruel mimicry of free will. Even when he follows the Narrator's instructions perfectly, asking pertinent questions about the nature of truth and autonomy can get Stanley killed, which echoes Irving's (John Turturro) departure from Lumon after the eye-opening fiasco at Woe's Hollow. Moreover, if the player chooses to be defiant from the get-go (much like Helly's firm rejection of Lumon since day one), emotional manipulation is served along with harsh reprimands, where the Narrator poses himself as a well-meaning figure of benevolence. At one point, the Narrator tells Stanley that his freedom to make a choice is "killing" everyone, dooming a grand purpose:

"Do you see that I really have wanted you to be happy all this time? The problem is all these choices, the two of us always trying to get somewhere that isn't here, running and running and running, just the way you're doing right now. Don't you see that it's killing us, Stanley?"

In short, there is no exit. Or at least, the narrator desperately wants you to believe there isn't one, lest you (yes, you) stumble upon one when he's not looking. Given what happens in the "Severance" season 2 finale, it seems that the key to escape bureaucratic torture and absurdity is mutiny, and the guts to do everything in your power to save the person you love. Both innie and outie Mark (Adam Scott) choose to rescue Gemma (Dichen Lachman), while Helly (Britt Lower) and Dylan (Zach Cherry) make the brave choice to stand up to Lumon. But Stanley is all alone, and he only has one ally who can turn against him on a whim: the player.

This brings us to the game's Not Stanley ending, which treats Stanley and the player as two distinct entities, as their souls are completely different yet conjoined due to the nature of the story. This ending is the opposite of the concept of rehabilitation, with the player leaving Stanley to his own devices (basically, abandonment) and transporting alone to the game's world of code. Conversely, the player can choose to relinquish control to ensure Stanley is free, sacrificing autonomy in exchange for a happy ending. 

Such conclusions are hard to achieve in "Severance," as innies and outies must either work in tandem or trample over the other to ensure survival. Whether the show's true ending will be one rooted in such cathartic bittersweetness, is something only time can tell.