Castlevania: Nocturne Stakes Its Claim as a Must-Watch Vampire Romp
Photo Courtesy of Netflix
It’s been a few years since Netflix’s solid spin on Castlevania came to a close, a series that combined the campy gothic setting of its source material with a generally well-rendered cast, but lost much of its punch in later seasons after it wrapped up the conflict with its irreplaceable big bad. Castlevania: Nocturne, a spinoff set during the French Revolution, not only meets the lineage of its predecessor but surpasses it. While it’s just as profanity-laden, gore-soaked, and full of vampiric foes as what came before, it also offers a surprisingly thoughtful take on this subject matter. Through its complex cast and scorching cuts of animation, it delivers an affecting story about exercising the monsters of the past to fight for a brighter future.
We follow Richter Belmont (Edward Bluemel), the latest in a long line of vampire hunters, who finds himself in France after the traumatic loss of a family member. He’s staying with Maria (Pixie Davies) and her mother Tera (Nastassja Kinski), two distant relatives involved in the ongoing political upheaval, as he helps this band fight the nobles (who are also vampires) that have been cast out of Paris. Following an uptick in monster attacks, two Haitian Revolutionaries named Annette (Thuso Mbedu) and Edouard (Sydney James Harcourt) arrive to tell our group the reason why: a great evil called the “Vampire Messiah” is on her way to France to rally the gathering blood-suckers, crush the revolution, and herald the total subjugation of humankind.
The pairing of a French Revolution backdrop with these undying fanged creatures is a natural one, and the new showrunners Clive Bradley and Kevin Kolde, alongside the rest of the staff, make good on this premise (it should be noted that Netflix rightfully cut ties with the previous series’ lead writer, Warren Ellis, after he was accused of widespread sexual coercion). Vampires have long been used as a symbol for a predatory ruling class, and Nocturne doesn’t miss the chance to entwine moonlit monsters with images of Ancien Régime-fueled decadence. Pasty nobles gorge themselves on the flesh of the peasantry, as stylish gothic framing conveys the depth of their cruelty. It’s all delightfully unsubtle but gains shades of nuance as we learn more about how this archaic social order has harmed our central cast.
Much like the last series, one of this show’s greatest strengths is its ability to deliver affecting drama and complex characters amidst its scuffles with supernatural foes. Richter, with his monster flaying holy whip and Belmont family crest, initially reads as a cartoonish badass, but we quickly find that he’s still haunted by a death in his childhood that leads to actions we wouldn’t normally associate with swashbuckling heroes, granting him compelling internal trials to overcome. The rest of the cast is afforded just as much, if not more, consideration. There’s Maria, a fiery teenage sorcerer who helps organize the local revolutionaries in toppling the monarchy (and the vampires who cozy up to them), as well as her mother, Tera, who is forced to relive former injustices wrought by their adversaries. Maria is a delightful character thanks to her well-delivered arguments about the need for social change and her fun pseudo-sibling bond with Richter. Together, the familial bonds between these three offer a welcome palate cleanser from the carnage.
However, the star of the show is Annette, a freedom fighter and formerly enslaved person who helped overthrow French colonial rule in Saint-Domingue. Her struggles with grief and forced severance from her ancestry are brought to life in aching, sun-drenched flashbacks, and Mbedu’s performance helps sell this emotional range. It is fraught subject matter, but is portrayed with enough empathy and specificity to tie in perfectly with the narrative’s condemnation of evil systems and the ghouls that control them. And it also helps that abstracted animation captures Annette and the rest of these characters’ personal histories in a way that makes their feelings resonate.