Editorials
Demon Hunting In Style: Celebrating the Original ‘Devil May Cry’
It is wild to think that 18 years ago Devil May Cry was released on the PlayStation 2. Since then the series has had numerous entries, an anime, comic books, action figures, and light novels. This month also sees the release of Devil May Cry 5, where we ‘ll be slaying demons left and right with Nero, Dante, and the mysterious V.
Yet while Devil May Cry 5 utilizes the latest in gaming technology to present stunning graphics and phenomenal combat, the original DMC has such an astounding nostalgia that remains to this day. With a new Devil May Cry on the way, I thought it would be fun to revisit the first game, celebrating its history and excellent qualities.
DMC‘s story centers around Dante, a demon hunter who also happens to be half-demon; he is also the son of a powerful demon who rebelled against his kind to protect humanity. One evening Dante gets a visit from a woman named Trish; we don’t know much about her other than the fact she looks strikingly similar to Dante’s late mother.
Trish attacks Dante, but he overwhelms her with his demon powers. Being impressed by his skills, Trish then reveals to him that the attack was a test to see how strong he was. She shares that the demon emperor, Mundus, who Dante sees as responsible for the death of his brother and mother, is planning to return to the mortal world. From there, Trish leads Dante to a castle, where he spends the rest of the game slicing and dicing demons. The narrative is exhilarating start to finish as controlling Dante makes one feel like a genuine badass facing off waves of demons.
Part of DMC’s origin comes from two other Capcom titles, the first being Resident Evil (since DMC was initially intended to be Resident Evil 4). Game director Hideki Kamiya wanted to make a game that was cool and stylish; in response to this, game writer Noboru Sugimura created a story about unraveling a mystery surrounding the body of a superhuman protagonist. The character’s name was Tony, who would be an invincible man with skills and intellect exceeding that of ordinary people, his powers explained through biotechnology. After experimenting with the character, Kamiya did not feel the protagonist looked heroic enough from a fixed camera angle; to cast the character in a better light, Kamiya decided on a dynamic camera angle.
However, producer Shinji Mikami thought the “cool” angle took away from the survival horror elements of Resident Evil; he then encouraged the team to make the game as a property independent from the series. Kamiya, taking inspiration from Italian poet Dante Alighieri’s epic classic, The Divine Comedy, renamed the protagonist Dante. The personality of Dante was based on the title character from Buichi Terasawa’s manga series Cobra; Kamiya also decided to have Dante wear red since red is a traditional color for heroic figures in Japan. The other game that impacted DMC was Onimusha: Warlords. During a test-play of the latter, Kamiya saw that you could keep enemies in the air by slashing them repeatedly; this was due to a glitch, but would go on to inspire the juggles Dante could perform via gunfire and sword attacks. These flashy attacks make up a major portion of DMC’s appeal.
Depending on how you mixed attacks and how long you pulled off combos for, you could go all out on the brutal delivery. A portion of the screen would register how successful your combos were, grading them on letters A, B, C, and D, with S being the best. At the end of each level, players would receive a similar rank based on how fast they finished the level, how many orbs (the game’s currency) they collected, how much damage they took, and how “stylish” their combos were.
It’s important to note that DMC had a hefty difficulty setting, bringing an element of tension into each battle. Kamiya said this was done on purpose as a challenge to casual game players. If you were to get stuck and continue dying, then the game would offer you a chance to play at a lower difficulty. While Dante had access to a variety of weapons, players could take things further and active his “Devil Trigger” form; this allowed for him to shift into a demon, moving much faster and landing heavier blows.
DMC also had a variety of puzzles, having players take on minor pauses between the action-packed moments. There were also side missions which pitted players against enemies they would have to defeat in a set time limit or in a specific way.
Upon its release, the game did remarkably well by commercially and critically. Critics showered DMC with praise, citing the excellent quality of its combat, innovations, and atmosphere. Even to this day, the title continues to receive recognition, appearing in numerous “Top Video Games Of All Time” lists. Dante also gets a great deal of praise, being considered one of the most famous video game characters ever. As of 2006, the game reached over two million sold units in the United States alone.
With Devil May Cry 5 on the way, as well as a new anime in the near future, there’s no slowing down for the series. Since the first game’s release back in 2001, Devil May Cry has gone on to inspire the action genre of gaming; considering how far games have come in technology, the first entry still exudes the same adrenaline and excitement it did all those years ago. Devil May Cry’s explosive combat, excellent atmosphere, and finely crafted mechanics have allowed it to become one of the greatest action video games in history.
“Elevated Horror.” Of all the combinations in the English language, that one is the most insufferable.
It represents almost a decade of scary movies that, for the most part, took themselves too seriously. Horror responds to the moment, so its “why so serious” lean makes sense as we scuttle through the “worst of times” equation of Charles Dickens’ famous opening lines. But there’s still an opening and a need for a lighter approach; one that not only has fun with its audience but takes the piss out of a genre that is seemingly letting its newfound “respectability” go to its head.
Wes Craven believed devotees see horror films to let out their fears one primal scream at a time. At their core, these movies are roller coasters; they bring us as close to the edge as possible before pulling us back into a safety net of reality. The need for a bigger and badder coaster increases during times when the size of that net decreases.
There’s a thrill that comes from imagining being in a foot race with a madman, or outthinking the hordes of zombies on the other side of the door, plus the scavenger humans coming behind them. There’s even a rush that comes from imagining how one might deal with possession to see good triumph over evil in the end. It’s all about building tension and releasing it through catharsis. That cathartic release usually sounds like screams followed by laughter, which signals relief. Genre heavy hitters over the past 10 years offered very little of that respite when the credits rolled. Films like Hereditary, The Witch, Talk to Me, and even Smile (pick one) keep that tension going after the screen fades to black.
Hereditary
As the genre became obsessed with creating trauma metaphors, that lack of release made sense. Anyone with even a small sample size of traumatic experiences knows those emotions don’t magically resolve themselves in an allotted run time. But how much trauma can one take? Especially when there’s a mess going on outside that few of us can escape from. Movies offer that off-ramp, no matter how short.
Everything can’t be, nor should it be, “elevated.” Audiences need thoughtful explorations of life’s ills via monsters as much as they need murdering masked maniacs with kitchen knives. And no, it doesn’t have to go any deeper than that. Sometimes, a knife is just a knife, and it’s still worth our time and respect. As weird as it sounds, that simplicity is comforting not in spite of the trauma but because of it.
The worst of times should manifest more than just anguish. People need to laugh just as much as they need to think seriously about this moment in time. Even the Scream franchise forgot the meta rock upon which it built its church when the latest foray sacrificed the subtle comedy for serious drama. Scary Movie returned at the perfect moment. It provides the necessary laughs, but it’s not a cure-all.
This isn’t a call for Scary Movie imitators but a return to a mainstream landscape where Killer Klowns from Outer Space sat with The Serpent and the Rainbow, nestled neatly with the latest Nightmare on Elm Street, which took nothing away from The Vanishing.
They Live
Even They Live, John Carpenter’s horror sci-fi satire sandwich, kept its tongue firmly in cheek while discussing serious ideas still relevant in 2026. Yes, a film about aliens taking over the world through subliminal messaging only visible through coded sunglasses is, in fact, a tad silly. Carpenter understood that mainstream horror can’t become so self-important that it never looks itself in the mirror and laughs at that inherent silliness.
The thing is, horror historically excels at poking fun at itself. Most of the Scream franchise, The Cabin in the Woods, or The Blackening show adoration without kowtowing. They recognize tropes and trappings but invert them for an audience already in on the joke, but one that also finds solace in said conventions. This keeps the genre on its toes; once something gets parodied, it’s usually time to evolve. That breeds new ideas and fresh filmmakers, which not only strengthen the genre’s collective voice but also amplify it.
Get Out, as “elevated” as some critics want us to believe it is, is a cathartic, populist scary movie that spoke to an untapped audience rather than speaking down to them. Backrooms is one of the biggest horror hits in years, partially because it’s fine-tuned for modern-day teenagers instead of their parents. Movies like these tell everyone the genre is open for business; open for innovation and, yeah, open for new ways in which people can lovingly poke fun at with a wink and a nudge.
Horror needs dread as much as it needs laughter.
Catharsis is just as important as tension, and pulpy populism has the same merit as more high-brow material. Respectability shouldn’t come at the expense of an experience akin to walking through a haunted house. At a time when joy seems in short supply, horror should look to its past to map out its future, and make things just a tad brighter for audiences.
Backrooms
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