Inside the Enigmatic Adam Scott

This article was published in March 2025 in Mastermind 17. Purchase all issues here. 

For over a decade, Adam Scott’s uncanny presence in cult hit after cult hit has made him seem ever-present on our screens. Hardworking and humble, the Santa Cruz, California, native took on main roles in the ensemble comedy series Party Down and Parks and Recreation before playing Reese Witherspoon’s husband in Big Little Lies; others recall him most fondly as Will Ferrell’s hateable brother, Derek, in Step Brothers. His seeming ubiquity makes it somewhat bewildering, then, that he never before secured a part as consequential as Mark Scout in Apple TV’s Severance.

Set in an alternative America that is at once retro and futuristic, the science-fiction thriller follows Mark and his coworkers at Lumon Industries, a mysterious company that feels in equal parts like an achingly banal office and the headquarters of a cult with echoes of the Church of Latter-Day Saints. Following the death of his wife in a car accident, Mark takes an interest in Lumon because of its unique offer: allow the company to install an implant in your brain, and you will “sever” all connection between your time at work and your life outside it. A person’s “innie” and “outie,” per the show’s vocabulary, will have no knowledge of each other’s activities – that is, until the gap between the two begins to dissolve when Mark meets a surprising visitor.

Arguably not since Lost and, before it, Twin Peaks, have audiences been so enamored with a television show’s most minute details, prompting robust fan-theory discussions online. But underneath Severance’s slick, eye-catching aesthetics and inherent oddness is a meditation on trauma, perception and control that grows darker with each episode.

When talking about a healthy life, people often refer to maintaining a “work-life balance” or “separating” work from their personal life. “Severing,” by contrast, is a very violent word.

ADAM SCOTT There is a finality to it, when you sever yourself from something. It relates directly to what the company asks people to do to themselves: completely bifurcate – permanently – one part of their life from the other. It is extreme.

At the beginning of Season One, we find my character doing something to escape from his grief, to try and pull himself out of his life for eight or so hours. He doesn’t want to experience his day-to- day feelings. He wants to be somewhere else, hoping he essentially can have another eight hours of sleep – but even better, because he doesn’t have any dreams. He just “disappears” for a workday and doesn’t have to work through any feelings.

Extreme solutions don’t necessarily help, though. Forgetting is key to managing trauma: we need memories to leave our conscious mind over time. But these characters don’t allow themselves that experience. We see your character generally moving through his personal life in a state of depression, even sitting in his car outside his office crying. Severing doesn’t appear to work for him – and arguably it doesn’t for any other character, either. So, is it a healthy decision?

AS As far as the parameters of the show go, it depends on the reasoning behind why someone chooses to undergo the procedure. For my character, it was directly to escape from his current circumstances and trauma.

I lost my mother during the pandemic, when I was ensconced with my family, who took care of me in a way that was more protective than if we had been going through our usual daily lives. I was in an emotional cocoon with my wife and two kids for six months, instead of going through the process of having a memorial, getting together with everyone and all the stuff we ended up doing a year and a half later. Then, when I got to New York to start shooting the show in October 2020, I was there by myself. All I had to turn to was the show. It was almost like severing myself from all this protection. It wasn’t like cutting myself off from feelings. It was just that I was sort of alone, so it was time to dive headfirst into that grief – and the most direct route to dealing with it was putting it into the show.

In that sense, the show and your personal life merged. You and your wife, Naomi, also have a production company, Gettin’ Rad Productions, which must further complicate separating the private and the professional. Is it a pleasant fiction that, at least for many of us, we can ever bifurcate ourselves in this way?

AS You could say my work-life balance is completely upside-down and sideways. I don’t know if it’s dysfunctional because I love what I do. I love watching television and movies. I love trying to make good stuff and the process of trying to make things that I would want to watch. I see it as all one thing.

Every time I watch Raiders of the Lost Ark, Defending Your Life or Annie Hall, I feel I’m getting closer to solving the Rubik’s Cube of how to make something great. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really been interested in.

When I was nine years old, my stepmom borrowed a Betamax player through her work, which we had at my dad’s house for a few days. This was a year or two before everyone had a VCR in their home. So, having this thing was like having a time machine. It was like a nuclear device, with a glow of endless possibilities.

I had convinced them to rent The Jerk. It was the middle of the afternoon, and I sat there and watched it by myself. When it ended, my stepmom asked, “What do you feel like doing now?’’ I sat there, thought about it, and said, “Do you really want to know what I want to do?” She said yes, so I said, “If it’s okay, I’d like to rewind this and watch it again.” I’m remembering this 40 years later, so obviously it had an effect on me. It truly is all I’ve ever had an innate interest in, and I feel just as enthusiastic about it now as I did then. So, as far as balancing work and life, it’s all in the same stew.

AS I love that there are all sorts of ways to take in the show and the veracity with which the audience absorbs and clues into one thing or another. We’ve collectively been blown away by the audience’s attention to detail, and we’re all the more relieved that the attention to detail was such while we were making it. Our entire creative team zeroes in on every microdetail to make sure we get it right – because it will be examined. “Flattering” isn’t even the right word for it. It’s beyond the expectations any of us had.

I think all the Reddit stuff is fun, but there’s also an emotional story being told. I hope that one doesn’t pull from the other – that you’re not trying to zero in so hard trying to solve a riddle that you miss another, more emotional, story being told. They’re both there and happening at the same time. Maybe for that reason, the show rewards repeat viewings, which I’ve heard from fans.

Are you personally a fan of shows steeped in mysteriousness?

AS I was a huge fan of Lost when it was on, and I still am. My family and I rewatched it a few years ago. The Leftovers, too. And Watchmen – holy shit! Damon Lindelof is a friend, and I’m also a deep fan of his work. As far as what we all think of as a “puzzle box” show, he, J.J. Abrams and Carlton Cuse defined it for the modern era.

But also, when I was a kid, The Twilight Zone was on every night at 11 PM. Over a certain period, I got to see all of it, and it was formative. They tell a very complete story in a half hour, in every episode, and it was unbelievable what they were able to accomplish. That’s the original “puzzle box” show.

Mulholland Drive and Twin Peaks are certainly touchstones for me, too. But, from a bird’s-eye view, Severance is the kind of show I would gravitate toward as an audience member. When Ben Stiller first told me the general idea for the show and when, a year later, I read a script, my knee-jerk feeling was that I’ve been waiting all this time for exactly a role like this in a show like this. It’s everything I’ve always wanted to do, and I knew it would take everything I have – everything I’ve learned over 30 years – to do it right.

Fashion by Xenia May Settel. Hair by Holli Smith. Makeup by Lynsey Alexander. Manicure by Pebbles Aikens. Production by Ania Juszczyk at Partner Films.