I remember countless
summer days and first Fridays (dismissal at 12:00, followed by Mass,
then freedom!) at my cousin Dan's house playing Castlevania II:
Simon's Quest for the NES. It
was a more primitive – and yes, more innocent – age, but after
naught but Mario Brothers and other tame fare, the shambling
mummies, creeping spiders, and gyrating Medusa heads menacing the
fog-shrouded town of Wallichia were indeed grim and glorious to
behold...even in 8-bit. Turns out it wasn't a very good game, and
most critics agree it is one of the more busted and forgettable of
the series. There was a spot we could never get past, and in the days
before the Internet one had only hearsay and conjecture (or a pricey,
time-consuming hunt for the right issue of Nintendo Power)
to overcome gaming obstacles. Sadly, by the time the solution
presented itself, Dan and I had moved on, and for my part – except
for a couple of 2-day rentals of one or two equally forgettable
sequels – I never thought much of Castlevania again. Had I known
then of the surfeit of vampire/monster/monster-hunter games, shows,
and movies looming over the pop culture horizon – and the
inevitable defanging (yes, that's a pun) of the horror genre that
would result – I might have taken a longer, closer look at
Castlevania and perhaps better appreciated its fairly original take
on the Dracula mythos.
Once
again Netflix, as it has many times in the last few years, swooped in to save me from a lifetime of regret.
Castlevania debuted
earlier this month as a new animated series, sneaking in the
'Originals' line-up between the live-action allegory Okja
and the 80's wrestling satire GLOW. I'll
admit I paid it little heed at first – the animation had a
distinctly Eastern flair, which itself doesn't bother me, but it was
enough to elicit concern it would be too much like the obtuse,
labyrinthine anime series that I tried (and tried, and tried, Lord
Jesus, how I tried) to like but couldn't. But then I saw four words
that changed my mind in an eye-blink: “Written by Warren Ellis”.
Ellis,
the mad Scotsman. Author of groundbreaking original comics series
like The Authority and
Transmetropolitan (still
one of my favorites of all time) as well as two deliciously
entertaining crime novels Crooked Little Vein
and Gun Machine. And
only four episodes at 25 minutes a piece? How bad could it be?
Turns
out, not bad. Not bad at all. Traditionalists who know only the
Bram Stoker story will find it a poor frame of reference for
navigating this show, it's true, and only cursory lip service is paid
to the pseudo-historic 'character' of Vlad Tepes – the legendary
impaler. But complete strangers to the video game series should
nonetheless find it watchable, thanks largely to stellar voice acting
and seamless, Swiss-watch pacing that neither glosses over the good
stuff nor tarries needlessly. Perhaps the most jarring thing is that
it is a Dracula story with almost no Dracula in it. After a
chilling, tragic prologue that explains the origin of Dracula's
enmity toward mortals, the action shifts entirely to human characters
dealing with his black rage. The once-thriving city of Wallichia has
been transformed into a walled plague town, heaped with corpses and
carrion flies and beset nightly by winged demons that eat babies out
of their cribs and flee only with the coming of morning. The
God-fearing peasants stay because...well, because they are indeed
God-fearing, and the Church has maintained an iron grip on the
populace by convincing them their lack of piety that is the real
cause of the vampire's wrath.
Alas, Dracula's ire actually stems
from an incident one year before, when his mortal wife – a
scientist and healer – was burned at the stake for practicing
advanced medicine which the local bishop deemed witchcraft. Thus ol'
Vlad, who ironically had no quarrel with the short-lived sheep down
the hill from his spooky castle, decides the only good human is a
dead one and dedicates the remainder of his eternal life to ensuring
we all die screaming. Not losing a wink of sleep in all this is the
Bishop (played by Max Headroom's Matt Frewer), who, like
Dracula himself, utterly believes in the righteousness of his cause,
believes he occupies the moral high ground, and cares not a wit for
the innocents lost along the way. Staunch Catholics beware: this
series is not kind to the faith, or rather it very effectively
employs the motif of religious extremism as anathema to common sense
(especially in the Dark Ages) and absolute power enjoyed by the
bejeweled 'leaders' at the top, tyrants in everything but name.
Castlevania,
of course, is only tangentially about Dracula. The series has always
really been about the Belmonts, the ancient clan of monster-hunters
who have served as the protagonists of (nearly) every Castlevania
game since the series' inception in 1987. The show starts at the
beginning of the timeline with Trevor Belmont (Simon would come
generations later), here a wandering drunk who doesn't exactly shun
his family name but doesn't advertise it, either. Despite drifting
from ale stein to hangover and back again in true anti-hero fashion,
the blood of the ancient crusaders still thunders through his veins
and he has the fighting skills to prove it. Armed with his handy
short sword and consecrated whip – the game's signature weapon –
he brawls with Church thugs and slavering bat-demons with equal
aplomb and looks damn cool doing it. He's also, under his unshaven
exterior, a decent person who doesn't want to see ordinary
folk get hurt. Thus, for showing kindness toward the nomadic Seekers
– a kind of medieval Doctors Without Borders – he is rewarded
with a dangerous quest that pits him against a savage cyclops and
almost drawn and quartered by a zealous mob. Along the way he meets
two more characters from Castlevania III: Sypha, a Seeker
priestess with magic powers, and Alucard, Dracula's half-breed son
who possesses much of his father's darkling powers but remains
pleasantly neutral toward mortals. The latter finds common ground
with Belmont in a his singular desire to kill Dracula “because it's
what my mother would have wanted.” A trio for the ages is born.
And
that's it. Four episodes and we're off...but not before what
promises to be a lengthy interlude whilst more episodes are produced
(at the time of this writing, Netflix has already confirmed 8 more
are on their way). But the groundwork has been laid for a
delightfully gothy romp through all manner of game-inspired environs,
and unless I've read it wrong (or don't know Ellis as well as I
think) a more multi-dimensional take on Dracula, one that looks to be
morally gray and provocative rather than one-sided and simplistic.
Here, amazingly, is a Dracula who really isn't wrong per se,
and in many ways is more sympathetic than the fleshy humans who fear
him. I don't doubt that before the final stake is driven, Trevor and
Company will find themselves wondering if their single-minded quest
isn't a wee bit tunnel-visioned and whether peace in this violent age
can really be bought at the business end of a crucifix. Still, I'm
game...and waiting for more.