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Even a below-average episode of Severance can be an enjoyable time that expands the show’s mythology. However, season two has been on such a tear that, pacing wise, “Sweet Vitriol” feels like a setback. The return of Harmony Cobel (Patricia Arquette), who has been absent since “Who Is Alive?,” is most welcome. But the semi-deep dive into her upbringing comes at a pivotal juncture. There’s already too much tension and only a couple more installments left. To abruptly halt the action for a Harmony backstory now is jarring and, frankly, a little boring. If everything she goes through in this 37-minute episode was spread out more, I don’t see how the season would’ve been impacted negatively. The payoff to learn where she’s been since she jetted out of Lumon’s parking lot before the ORTBO feels rushed here.  

At the same time, it allows Arquette to unleash her ferocious side. She’s in almost every frame as director Ben Stiller takes advantage of his talented subject. There are plenty of close-ups of Arquette relishing in getting to show the range of emotions her character has been holding back on. She is yelling, weeping, and seething as Severance pulls back the curtain on Harmony’s fucked-up adolescence. If “Chikhai Bardo” revealed the depths of Lumon’s dehumanization of labor within its office walls with Gemma (not to mention how they treat the innies, of course), then “Sweet Vitriot” is about how far this menacing conglomerate’s reach is. The Eagans don’t care about anyone’s lives as long as their “mysterious and important work” forges ahead. We knew this already, but seeing the impact on Harmony’s rundown hometown is another thing.  

MDR’s former floor manager drives into a deserted Salt’s Neck, which feels like an abandoned fishing village littered with small homes that are falling apart. There’s not a single person around as she makes her way through the winding roads. Eventually, you can count on one hand the people she sees: a random guy huffing and puffing; two old patrons at a diner; their server Hampton (James Le Gros), who is a “chum” of Harmony’s; and Celestine “Sissy” Cobel (Jane Alexander). Only the latter two are relevant in this week’s story, but let’s not dismiss the purpose of the other three. They’re ill and probably high, as if affected by something in different ways. Yeah, the vibes in Salt’s Neck are not great. 

Lumon is the reason for this destruction. Their factory popped up a long time ago to everyone’s detriment. It might’ve initially boosted the town’s economy and employment, but it came crashing down, and the residents—the few that remain—still pay a long-lasting price. The faded logo still visible on the ether mill where Harmony and Hampton properly reunite is a constant reminder of who’s to blame. A case in point is Hampton, who’s got horrible memories of working there as a kid. Lumon loves letting child-labor laws slide, if they even exist in this universe, as also seen with Ms. Huang (Sarah Bock). Severance touches on Hampton’s PTSD and drug addiction as a result of this. It’s another way to show how easily these affluent leaders discard what they don’t need and how civilians pay the price. I think Lumon’s evil M.O. has been well-established by now though, so this episode could’ve benefitted from Severance writers giving us more distinct details. I hope those are coming soon. “Sweet Vitriol” does give some overdue insight into why Harmony is the way she is—cold, calculated, and dedicated to her employer. More importantly and interestingly, the episode dismantles these traits too. Harmony confronts her brutal past to relieve herself of it. She can see that her bosses have abandoned her, having no use for her contributions. But they’ve already kind of taken what matters most: her connection with her mother. Due to Harmony’s devotion to Kier, she wasn’t close with her mom, who hated Lumon. So she wasn’t around when Charlotte Cobel died while in the care of Harmony’s cuckoo aunt, Sissy. She hasn’t dealt with her grief (sound familiar?). In “Sweet Vitriol,” she lies down on the bed where her mom passed, puts on Charlotte’s breathing tube, and sobs. It’s extraordinarily gutting and disturbing because of how her crying blends into the crashing waves, making Harmony sound like a whale in extreme agony. 

Then there’s the fraught, frigid relationship she shares with her aunt. After all, it was a Kier-worshopping Sissy who sent her niece to the Myrtle Eagan School For Girls. It’s less of an educational institution and more a way for Lumon to indoctrinate children, and it sounds like Sissy ran that damn hellhole. Charlotte was against her daughter being pushed into it, but are we to assume she didn’t speak up enough or that no one cared to listen to her? Harmony graduated with top honors and went through Lumon’s Wintertide fellowship (the one that Ms. Huang is a part of now), climbing up the corporate ladder. But her academic skills aren’t what got her to the MDR floor. No, what brought Harmony to the forefront was that she was responsible for the fucking severance chip—or at least the design of it, from the blueprint and base code to the OTC and Glasgow Block that allow the innie and outie to become awake.