Warning: major spoilers for the Severance season 2 finale to follow.

When it comes to his work, Adam Scott says, “my default position is just assuming something is gonna be either hated or not noticed.”

Three years ago, billboards across Los Angeles were plastered with the actor’s face in the lead-up to the first season of Apple TV+’s Severance. Scott was nervous. The series had the backing of Hollywood bona fides like Ben Stiller (on directing duties) and co-stars Patricia Arquette and Christopher Walken, but the streaming service was still in relative infancy, with few hits to its name beyond Ted Lasso. Scott knew that they had made something special, but would this strange sci-fi drama about office workers undergoing brain surgery to avoid the dreaded nine-to-five resonate with audiences?

Contrary to Scott’s fears, people didn’t just notice Severance – they couldn’t get enough of it. The show has become something rare in the age in which binge-watches are encouraged and water-cooler chat is hard to come by: a verified word-of-mouth sensation. Following the second season premiere in January, Apple announced that Severance had surpassed Ted Lasso to become the streamer’s most-watched title ever. “The fact that it has worked out, and people are liking it, and it’s even more popular than it was three years ago is amazing,” Scott says. “It’s weird but it’s great.”

It helps that the series is an elusive, theory-fuelled hydra: when one answer is revealed, five more questions grow in its place. What is Lumon doing with Gemma? What is Helena Eagan up to? What’s up with all the goats? But for all of the conspiracies that have circulated in the past 10 weeks, no one could have predicted how excruciatingly simple – how human – the season’s conclusion would ultimately be. Mark’s Innie is faced with an impossible decision: leave Lumon, potentially forever, in order to reunite his Outie with his wife, Gemma; or stay on the severed floor with Helly, the woman he really loves.

Scott is fresh off a flight from Cork, where he’s been shooting Hokum, a supernatural horror about an inn haunted by a witch. He’s spent the day sustaining himself with airport snacks after his plane was stuck on the tarmac, and it’s right then I realise that Claridge’s may have been one of the worst choices for places to eat on an empty stomach. The plates are small, the prices are astronomical. Looking sympathetically at the meagre portion size of my cauliflower appetiser, Scott bisects his toasted cheese sandwich and offers me the second half.

We’re still three weeks out from the finale, long before the world will know about the romance and tragedy of Mark’s fate. Openly talking about Severance in a busy restaurant feels like divulging trade secrets to a live audience, but Scott nevertheless perks up at the invitation to talk about those tumultuous closing scenes. Apologies to anyone who was eavesdropping.

Adam Scott: I love talking to people who’ve seen [the season finale] because I’m so curious. What were you thinking at the end? Were you on one side or the other?

I understood where Mark was coming from, because if he opens that door, his life has effectively ended.

Maybe, but there’s a chance he could reintegrate.

But I don’t think he believes that. And then the idea of keeping Mark and Gemma apart breaks me. Mark has become his own worst enemy, and it’s really heartbreaking and frustrating, but then at the same time, you can understand why he would make that decision. What did you think when you read the script for the first time?

[Creator] Dan [Erickson] had a perfect place to end the season, and it was just a matter of how to get there. I think that was always thought of as a great place to leave it – or, maybe end it right before the choice is made. But we all were thinking it would be great to let the audience experience the decision to go through with it. When it was time to actually shoot it, it was like, “Wow, OK, we’re really doing this.” This is a bold way to go, and a heartbreaking way to go, particularly since I have so much admiration for Dichen [Lachman] and Britt [Lower], and I love those characters so much.

I think Innie Mark spent a good amount of the season trying to figure out how to find Gemma and get her out of there for his Outie. His Outie was doing the same, and they had the same mission, but at a certain point they diverged a bit. It put them on a collision course, and so at some point there had to be a decision for someone. It’s agonising, but I think by the time the choice is in front of him, Mark has grown up a bit and knows he’s in love with this person.

Throughout the season, it feels like Innie Mark has been weighing up this loyalty he has to his Outie with wanting his own autonomy. That conversation his Innie and Outie have in the beginning of the episode helps him realise where his priorities lie.

He has to really fend for himself and make a judgement call or two that he wouldn’t have been able to do in season one. He’s gathered information and life experience. The Helena thing shaped him. I think that was an experience that matured him.

I love that whole sequence of them having this back and forth through the camcorder. How did you film that?

It was challenging. When you’re in a scene with another actor, you get into a groove together and you’re responding to each other. So that ends up dictating, for lack of a better word, the vibe. [When] you’re by yourself and not actually talking to someone, you have to come up with what you think the vibe would be, so I just tried to vary it as much as possible so they could have a number of choices. I was just afraid of it being bad and corny. That’s always my worry with anything, but particularly a scene where you’re acting opposite yourself. It took a few days. We were in there for a while, we just did it tiny chunks at a time.

Dan Erickson has talked about how the Innies are almost like children in season one, and in season two they become adolescents. Watching that conversation felt like a father telling off his rebellious teenage son.

It’s not the way I was thinking about it, but it’s true. Sometimes when I’m talking to my son or daughter, who are teenagers, I say something and I’m like, “That was so condescending. I can’t believe that just came out.” Or I overplay my hand by thinking they’re still five years old, you know, and say something that’s completely out of tune. And I think Outie Mark certainly makes that mistake.

It felt like the turning point of that scene is when Outie Mark mentions Helly and says her name wrong. How do you think Innie Mark’s view of his Outie changes in that conversation?

All along Helly’s been talking about the Outies, like, “Don’t buy into their bullshit.” So that’s in his head, but I don’t think Mark’s ever felt that way about his Outie. But I think when he starts hearing about these signifiers, like Outie Mark pushing a bit hard when selling reintegration, and then getting Helly’s name wrong. It’s like, “Is this guy completely fucking bullshit? He thinks he’s so much smarter than me. Maybe he is.” It’s like when you have a sibling and you can just tell they’re bullshitting because it’s like, “Oh, that’s how I do it.” I think Outie Mark obviously underestimates this guy and doesn’t think of him as a fully functioning adult human being. And he’s become one, at least in the limited capacity. Him getting Helly’s name wrong is certainly the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Another great sequence in this episode is when Mark runs into Mr Drummond when he’s looking for the lift to the testing floor. I imagine it has to be uniquely challenging to do a fight scene in a narrow hallway. How much of that was you?

I mean, the truly dangerous stuff that requires skill was stunts, and they were incredible. I did hit my head on a wall at one point. Afterwards, I was like, “Wait, wait, wait,” because I got slammed into the wall. I was supposed to bring my arm up – we practised it over and over again – but I just got caught on my suit. [We] called a doctor and all that stuff. Ben [Stiller] was making sure I’m OK, then he came up to me a little later and he goes, [whispers] “By the way, so good,” so it’s in the show.

Right before Mark and Helly split up to rescue Gemma, she tells him that she’ll see him at the equator. Severance feels indebted to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in a lot of ways and, to me, “See you at the equator” was their “Meet me in Montauk.” What do you think Mark took from her parting words?

I think it just meant, like, I hope we see each other again. And hopefully we will somewhere in the outside world, if the stars align and your Outie wasn’t bullshitting and is actually going to get reintegrated. Who knows?

So you don’t think that was the catalyst for Mark choosing Helly in the end?

Certainly, it could be an ingredient. It’s up to the viewer. For me, the way I thought about it is the primary reason he ends up making that decision is because she’s right there, and she’s diverted from the plan. And she’s saying, “Fuck whatever we planned.” At least this is maybe what Mark is getting from this. I think Mark is only thinking about putting one foot in front of the other. I don’t think he has a plan. I just think he loves her.

Do you think if Helly hadn’t shown up at that moment, he would’ve gone out the door?

I don’t know! That’s really cool that you say [“See you at the equator”] ended up being the thing. I don’t want to say anything that would dissuade that.

I love the final shot of the season. The performances from you and Britt Lower feel so precisely calibrated. It felt reminiscent of the ending of The Graduate or The 400 Blows in the way that Mark and Helly are initially elated and then they start to look unsure. How did you approach that?

I think they made a game-time decision. I am not a sports-metaphor purveyor in any way, shape or form, but I take a game-time decision to mean that you have a plan, and then the game is going and you’re like, “Oh, fuck, let’s do this.” And so that’s something that you don’t have time to really analyse. We did a lot of running, and I don’t know about Mark and Helly, but if I was running for a certain amount of time, at some point I would start to wonder where I’m going.

Left: Blazer by Auralee. Shirt by Charles Tyrwhitt. Trousers by Derrick. Watch by Rado. Headphones by Apple. Right: Shirt by Corneliani. Trousers by Derrick. Belt by J&M Davidson. Shoes by Churchs.

Scott is funny, even when he’s not supposed to be. Since playing Will Ferrell and John C Reilly’s arrogant sibling in Step Brothers, the actor has found his place as the ultimate foil to America’s great comedic actors. But as Ben Wyatt in Parks and Recreation, Scott let the straight man in on the joke. Wyatt’s seriousness is at odds with the sunny disposition of Amy Poehler’s Leslie Knope, but that veneer of professionalism is quickly eroded by his burgeoning feelings for her. It’s a trajectory that maps pretty well onto Mark, a Lumon acolyte who only begins to question the unethical practices of his workplace when he grows closer with Helly.

For Scott, it’s as if all roads would lead to Severance. In a 2014 episode of Parks and Recreation, which he also directed, his character Ben disagrees with his wife Leslie over whether a salacious chard stand employing shirtless dancers should be removed from the local farmers’ market. When their conflict inevitably follows them home, Ben sits Leslie down. “Maybe it would be good to keep our home life and our work life separate,” he suggests, eerily foreshadowing the core premise of the show Scott would star in almost a decade later.

Severance, which is at once scream-at-your-TV intense and oddly hilarious, capitalises on Scott’s duality as a performer. If the show is the actor’s hardest pivot to drama since the bit parts he cut his teeth on early in his career, it’s also true that he’ll never leave comedy behind. Just last month, Scott made a surprise cameo in The Monkey, Osgood Perkins’ horror-comedy, in which he unleashes fiery hell on the titular killer toy. “I said ‘yes’ before I even knew what I was gonna do because I thought it would be fun,” he remembers. “And it was; it was a blast.”

Scott is anxious about getting too in the weeds with Severance details, if only because it is a singularly impossible show to talk about. Say anything and you’re at the risk of having your words dissected by ravenous fans desperate for clues. Take the countless theories that have populated Reddit threads and social media feeds – the dense, lore-heavy world of Severance’s corporate purgatory is so ripe for discussion that even Lost creator Damon Lindelof, the master of the puzzle box series, is coming up with ideas of his own. (He thinks they’re clones.) Scott hasn’t read a single one, and he responds to a quick rundown of some of the usual suspects with a mixture of bemusement, confusion and diligent media-trained evasiveness.

Theory one: Helena Eagan is pregnant following her night with Innie Mark at the ORTBO.

“Huh,” Scott says. Nothing else.

Theory two: Irving knows about the black hallway because he’s reintegrated.

“…Why?” he asks, looking visibly bewildered.

Theory three: Miss Huang, the child deputy manager of the Severed floor, is Gemma’s daughter. (I’ll admit this one is ridiculous.)

“The timeline doesn’t really work.”

Theory four: Gemma chose to go to Lumon and faked her own death.

“Interesting…”

What’s going through Mark’s mind when he does finally reunite with Gemma?

It’s been a long road getting up to this point. He’s exhausted emotionally and physically. This completely ruined his life, and he’s been feeling the past three years. Then this absurd idea that his wife is still alive sickens him. He almost stops speaking to his sister because of that. Then the road back to believing that and reintegrating – he’s depleted, and here she is.

I know this was at the end of a long road for all of us, and I was exhausted. We all were, so when I watch those last few scenes – that stuff, the hallway, Helly running in – I know I was drained. When you’re tired and you’re emotionally frayed and fragile… my nerve endings were live at that point, so I was just running with those feelings.

What made you feel so drained?

The show is labour-intensive, which is a good thing. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had working. There’s no scene on Severance that isn’t complicated. Over and over, I’ve fallen into the trap of being like, “Oh, we’re shooting the thing tomorrow where I walk into the room and tell Helly to come with me. This will be easy.” But then we’re there on the day, and it’s like, oh, no, this is happening. There’s always nine things going on. There’s no actual simple scene on the show. And that’s what’s so fun about it. There’s no day of rest. This season in particular was draining physically for me, but that’s also really good. That’s part of what I love about making it: any skills I may have picked up over the years, I use it all on the show. So at the end of a 10-month season, I’m wiped out.

We’ve heard so much about Mark and Gemma’s relationship, but we never got to actually see their dynamic until episode seven. Was it at all daunting to have to build a relationship that has only been talked about for so long?

More than anything, it was joyful to finally be able to colour in those lines. And then to have an opportunity to see Dichen – who’s so brilliant as Ms Casey – show the other side of Gemma and the other Innies as well. Also [there’s] Jessica Lee Gagné, who’s our cinematographer, directing that episode, and just doing such a wonderful job. All the flashbacks were shot on film.

Some actors have talked about how they felt like they had to perform differently because film is a finite resource in a way. Did you ever feel like you had to adjust your performance?

Honestly, that didn’t really occur to me, but you’re right. On Step Brothers, those guys were shooting on film, and they shot a lot of film. I remember halfway through the movie, they announced on set, “We shot a million feet of film, everybody!” Because they just try stuff, and they’re not precious about any of it. It’s just like, let’s throw it all against the wall, and some of it’s not gonna work, but some of it will, and we can use the pieces that work. Who cares? I’ve certainly taken from that. I think that not being afraid of being bad is key, because that’s how you find the good stuff.

You came up through these American comedies that seem to be a dying breed, not just in movies like Step Brothers, but also sitcoms like Parks and Recreation. I’m curious if you have a perspective on why those kinds of comedies aren’t so common anymore?

I remember when Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar came out a few years ago, and I was like, “OK, here we go!” This is what we all need. I’ve seen that movie a few times now, and I love it so much. It’s so funny. And I don’t know why there aren’t more. I think streaming has altered the landscape a bit. I feel like there are some network comedies that have been doing well: Abbott [Elementary], obviously, and St. Denis Medical. Every once in a while, something bubbles up.

I certainly would love to do another half-hour comedy. It’s so fun. You shoot your episodes in five days. When we went back and did the third Party Down season, we did it in between Severance seasons, and it was so fun to be back with my friends from that show. But it was also so fun just making something that fast and that light. Parks and Rec, I miss so much. I guess I’m just talking selfishly about what I would like to do.

I think things just go through cycles. I think people were having a similar conversation right before The Office came out, right before The 40-Year-Old Virgin came out, or right before Anchorman, because that really kicked it all off. That Office/Anchorman era lasted, what – 10, 15, years? I would imagine there will be another one coming along.

Do you think it has anything to do with all these great comedic actors like you, Ben Stiller and Steve Carrell moving to more dramatic projects?

No, because one of the great things about comedy is there’s always someone new right around the corner who’s gonna come along and redefine everything. I think that people who are established will always be able to go back and forth. New comedic voices always seem to come out of nowhere. I think that maybe some of it is that a lot of new comedic voices are making podcasts, because it’s easier – if you’re having trouble selling something, you can just go [make a podcast] and you have an outlet.

I heard someone speaking recently about how really great fresh new comedy, as far as movies and TV shows go, often comes from people who make their own thing, like It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. It’s more difficult to come up with that spontaneous magic if you’ve got a $100 million budget and a studio wondering what you’re doing.

It’s been 10 years since the finale of Parks and Rec.

I miss it so much, and I don’t watch the show because it just makes me sad – same with Party Down – because I miss the people. The whole Parks cast is on a text chain together, we text each other all the time, so we’re in touch. But making the show was just the best. I didn’t take it for granted at the time, so it’s not like I look back and regret that I pissed it away or anything. The whole time I was like, “Jesus Christ, this is great.”

Rashida Jones said that she would be open to doing a revival of Parks and Rec. Would you want to come back?

I feel like the show had a pretty definitive end. I mean, everybody got old. Something like that would 100 per cent be Mike [Schur] and Amy’s prerogative. Let me put it this way: I would use any excuse to see those people.

Styling by Angelo Mitakos
Grooming by Emma White-Turle at The Wall Group
Tailoring by Faye Oakenfull
Set design by Lizzy Gilbert