Let’s talk about failure.
Not just loss. Not just unsuccessful inadequacy. But true, all-encompassing, cataclysmic failure.
The Vampire Lestat, much like the two seasons of Interview with the Vampire before it, is a series that’s profoundly interested in failure. The type of failure that can only be understood by someone who has been making the same mistakes for over 250 years. The Vampire Lestat is utterly consumed by failure, but also temptation, regression, obsession, and evolution. It remains unparalleled when it comes to sprawling, epic love stories that endure for centuries.
The new season reminds us that we’re all slaves to the past, whether it’s in terms of repeating it or trying to rise above it. This season is such a potent cocktail of pain, vanity, fear, and regret that’s shared between this sad collection of lost souls that culminates in such explosive bursts of tremendous emotion. Human, vampire; nobody wants to burn alone. It’s all too appropriate that a season that functions as a sweeping ode to failure is genuinely one of the year’s most perfect pieces of television, horror or otherwise.
At first, The Vampire Lestat’s transition to rock and roll may seem like a radical pivot. However, this is a series that continues to creatively mythologize and normalize vampires. It presents them as a crucial societal pillar and creates rewarding parallels between vampires and rock stars, right down to their parasitically adoring groupies. Lestat goes so far as to argue that vampires are the original rock stars, and it uses Lestat’s latest metamorphosis as a way to highlight these toxic, unbalanced relationships.
It’s a truly perfect setup that’s a beautiful extension of the previous two seasons as well as a sublime rebirth into a new “hedonistic pursuit of extremity.” It’s an inspired way to continue the franchise’s “interview” and unreliable narrator concept, while also doing something completely original with the construct. Each episode of this season takes Lestat’s traveling menagerie to a different city on his band’s 54-stop tour, while a foreboding sense of dread accumulates over the global catastrophes that are the consequence of this tour and its corresponding album.
Lestat is like a virus that passes through these metropolitan cities, leaving them ravaged and changed by the time that he leaves. It leads to some stunning commentary and visuals of the New World Order that gradually sets in over the season. Additionally, there’s a powerful apathy to the idea that Daniel Molloy’s (Eric Bogosian) published exposé on Lestat would fizzle out after a year and that humanity would move on and stop caring as they flock to the next big thing that they’re supposed to care about. It’s a cynicism that makes so much sense for this universe and individuals who have been around for centuries and seen it all.
That being said, those who are hoping for more of a direct adaptation of Anne Rice’s Queen of the Damned are going to need to be a little more patient. Much like how the series’ first two seasons are companion pieces and halves of a longer story, The Vampire Lestat leaves its Akasha (Sheila Atim) teases to its final episodes. These perfectly set up a hypothetical fourth season, which would presumably tackle the rest of Damned’s material.
It’s amazing that Letstat’s whole rockstar persona functions as a petty, egotistical response to regain control of the narrative so that his songs are the definitive text that usurps Daniel’s novel. It’s the perfect distillation of Lestat as a character and one that facilitates a deeply entertaining and even campier season of television that goes places that would have previously been impossible. The series’ evolution remains one of the most fascinating and impressive things about this season.
The Vampire Lestat’s rebirth is a reflection of life’s cyclical nature and how everything old is new again. This is highlighted both explicitly and subtly through not just the season’s messaging, but also through some clever and ambitious casting choices. Several actors pull double duty this season. This could easily be a disaster in less-skilled hands, and yet it’s never a distraction here. If anything, it manages to beautifully enhance the series’ obsession with duality.
The series digs deeper than ever into its characters, but the filmmaking artistry has never been better. It’s a self-indulgent display of aesthetic extremes that underscores how much care is put into every single frame. Much of this season is presented like a rock band doc that shifts between different film styles. It’s such a natural fit that meshes with the series’ broader tendency to be a cinematic magpie. There are so many different directions that The Vampire Lestat could take for its band material. The decision to explicitly pull from Madonna: Truth or Dare is so gonzo but perfect. It’s a strong way to put Lestat on a pedestal and simultaneously demystify him as his many sides are portrayed through the season’s fractured, nonlinear meta-narrative.
To this point, there’s so much effort going into Lestat’s music. These are immaculately written by Daniel Hart, and they all feel like actual songs that could top charts and get audiences screaming and dropping drugs, even without any vampire glamor influencing their opinion. It’s hard territory to authentically nail, and it makes all the difference that The Vampire Lestat knocks it out of the park in this department and features a season that’s full of genuine bangers, rather than one half-decent song that’s repeated ad nauseam. It also doesn’t hurt that this season Baz Luhrmanns the fuck out when it comes to these grandiose musical spectacles.
Sam Reid embodies the rock star persona so effortlessly that it’s wild to think that this wasn’t always the role that he was playing. It fits him as snug as leather pants. Lestat’s fame becomes so intense that there are literally people cosplaying as him in crowds so that his ego can reach even more untenable heights. This artificial future is powerfully juxtaposed against Lestat’s past, including some key formative moments from his life. There’s also a heartbreaking confrontation that arguably hits even harder than season two’s best moments. It’s so encouraging and exciting to see that The Vampire Lestat continues to top itself and that its best work is not behind it. It’s still finding new ways to thrive.
The series’ narration has always been on point. However, it’s easy to forget just how precise every word is and how perfectly Rolin Jones sticks the landing with his interpretations of these characters and Anne Rice’s universe, while still making it his own. ”Serving cunt has its consequences” might also be the most Lestat line to ever Lestat. Alternatively, the new role Daniel takes on as the director of a Lestat documentary is such a fun position for him to slide into that it becomes another playful echo of the past. It all reinforces the idea that we filter ourselves through the company we keep and that there’s conflict when we’re confronted with the truth.
The Vampire Lestat is everything you could want and then some. It’s a moving meditation on fame, fandom, and legacy that pushes its characters and relationships to their most satisfying places yet. Admittedly, this season throws a lot of new characters at the audience, but this never feels overwhelming or that this influx of new faces is superfluous.
I genuinely don’t know how these seven episodes could be any better. It’s the best Anne Rice adaptation to date and a series that truly feels like it’s just getting started and has greater highs to hit. Bring on the Queen of the Damned.
The Vampire Lestat premieres on June 7 on AMC and AMC+.
