There’s been a recent trend of sci-fi television and movies where the main character is split, either bodily or consciously: Severance, The Substance, and Mickey 17. In Severance, workers at Lumon are “severed” into two consciousnesses—one body shared between their Innie (work life) and Outie (personal life). In The Substance, aging pop star Elisabeth Sparkle (Demi Moore) takes, well, The Substance, that gives her a new body, but she’s still stuck with the old one. To “respect the balance,” she must swap between them every other week. In Mickey 17, Robert Pattinson plays an expendable (no, not like Stallone) worker aboard a spaceship. Every time he dies for the sake of the science, a new Mickey is printed out in a lab and the cycle repeats again. The program goes awry when Mickey 18 is created before Mickey 17 actually dies.
This trend of duality in sci-fi is emerging at a… well, let’s say an interesting time in American history. Young Americans are experiencing a loneliness epidemic due to a wide variety of factors, including rising costs of living and pandemic induced isolation. Office work has returned, but for those outside major cities, that just means long solo commutes. Meanwhile, social media algorithms curate a hyper-personalized experience for viewers, shaping what users see in ways most don’t fully grasp. These platforms remove posts, reduce traffic to outside sites, and control information flow—all buried in terms of service too long and too dense for the average person to read. Now, the result is a completely filtered stream of information, distinct from anyone else’s.
We’re spending more time alone, working harder for less pay, and relying on ourselves rather than a community. These stories resonate because we’re already spread too thin, wishing for more control over our lives. It’s no secret that we have to act differently at work than at home—wearing the business attire, making the small talk by the water cooler, avoiding politics and religion. But surface-level interactions don’t build deep connections. Despite job listings that promise a “work family,” many Americans have reported not being friends with their coworkers. After all, families fight, and fighting is bad for business.
It’s this friendly façade of corporate culture that Severance satirizes. Lumon incentivizes compliance with meaningless perks like branded desk toys for reaching quotas. Innies are forced into ice-breaker games despite having zero personal memories. Performance reviews are long and tedious, with workers getting accused of not being “team players.” These elements parody the way companies distract from deeper issues by focusing on hollow rewards and performative activities, all while subtly reinforcing the dehumanization of their employees.
Mickey 17, on the other hand, critiques a self-sacrificial culture. Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo), the politician leading the exploration, constantly asks the crew to make sacrifices for the greater good of the ship—including abstaining from sex to preserve calories for work. His charismatic speeches enthral several crew members, promising the future reward of “breeding” once they reach the new planet. They delay pleasure in the present for the promise of more in the future. Meanwhile, Mickey 17 remains docile to the scientists and crew who readily endanger him.
In The Substance, Elisabeth Sparkle turns 50 and is immediately seen as washed up by Hollywood. Cast aside, she becomes expendable in an industry that thrives on replacing women once they reach a certain age. Elisabeth takes The Substance, and her new, younger self, “Sue” (Margaret Qualley) auditions to take her place. Dennis Quaid, playing a lecherous Hollywood producer, immediately hires her based on looks. The film offers a scathing commentary of the dehumanizing pressure to maintain an idealized image for profit, regardless of the personal cost.
A primary theme in all of these works is exploitation and power. In Severance, the innies are inducted into a cult version of corporate America to worship Lumon’s founder, Kier Eagan. Mark’s (Adam Scott) Outie doesn’t see his Innie as a real person with desires and agency, they go head to head for self-determination in the season 2 finale. In The Substance, Elisabeth and Sue enter a violent battle for control. Elisabeth resents Sue for embodying the youth and desirability that have rendered her obsolete. When Mickey 17 and 18 meet for the first time, the two fight and try to dispose of the other so one can live.
There’s a consistent breakdown of trust between their spilt halves. They may suffer, but the work still has to get done. Mark S. still finishes his macrodata refinement for Lumon. Elisabeth and Sue still make it to the New Years Eve show, despite being merged into “Monstro Elisosue.” Under the threat of death, Mickey 17 and 18 risk their lives to save their colony. When the job doesn’t respect us, we don’t respect ourselves.
How many of us have gone to work sick? How many of us bail on friends because we have work in the morning? Do any of us really respect the balance? We all likely skimp on healthy habits. Some of us drink or smoke too much to take the edge off the day. Others don’t have time to cook and rely on UberEats. I personally don’t get enough sleep. We get angry at ourselves when we can’t pursue our passions. We isolate after gruelling days at the office. We resent ourselves for things out of our control.
To be clear, using the concept of cloning to express these issues is nothing new. In 2019, Paul Rudd starred in Living With Myself, a movie where a man suffering from burnout is swapped with a carefree clone of himself at a wellness spa. Rick and Morty has numerous episodes devoted clones, duplicates, and back up bodies. Even Michael Bay has worked on the concept with The Island, where Ewan McGregor learns he is a clone that’s used to grow healthy organs for the original. This type of story isn’t new, and neither is this feeling inside us. There’s a strange comfort to know that everyone is suffering from the same problems.
Ultimately, these stories suggest we must trust ourselves or die trying. Mickey 18, knowing he is the bitter, vindictive version, sacrifices himself for the kinder version to live. Elisabeth and Sue only find happiness when they merge into the Monstro Elisosue. Severance leaves this conflict on a cliff hanger, a reminder that the battle between our inner and outer selves is ongoing. Trusting ourselves is easier said than done; it’s a skill, one that takes time and patience. But in a world that constantly seeks to divide and exploit us, it may be the only way forward.