Judging from the surfeit of reporting about polyamory, it has been "going mainstream" for more than a decade, lending the casual action and partner-swapping in "What We Do In the Shadows" a whiff of having been there and done that long before its 2019 debut. Admittedly that's the jaded impression of someone who views the concept of ethical non-monogamy as profoundly exhausting.
"Shadows" does nothing to change my mind on that. The show has never been coy about Laszlo's (Matt Berry), Nadja's (Natasia Demetriou), and Nandor's (Kayvan Novak) pansexuality, as if that were possible. The vampire trio is also preternaturally tireless, which is essential to putting up with other people. You really need to be a people person to pull off polyamory, which explains why Laszlo takes to it with enthusiasm.
Charm is Laszlo's forte, a superpower he finds more persuasive than hypnosis. But as he once said, his true raison d'etre is "to suck blood and to f**k forever," although he forgot to add anytime anyplace. Last year's fourth season premiere places this on display as Nandor attempts to gently retrace the "Eat, Pray, Love" adventure that took him away from their Staten Island vampire residence. All the while, Laszlo furiously drills Nadja on the couch a few feet away, insisting that he's listening — he can multitask, you see.
"You could join in, old chap," Laszlo generously offers, further enticing Nandor with a gentlemanly, "Room at the back!"
So when Nandor's staid and accommodating human servant Guillermo (Harvey Guillén's) came out to his biological family last year, nobody blinked. Being gay is normal under any circumstance. In a house full of vampires who screw or marry reincarnated lovers, it is downright boring.
Out of all the bizarre vampire partialities presented as humdrum on "What We Do In the Shadows," the Staten Island housemates' unconventional, looser approach to intimacy is distinctive if not singular. The penetrative nature of vampirism couples easily with eroticism. This has been true since Bram Stoker introduced Dracula's vampire brides, although our modern blueprint is Anne Rice's Oedipally inclined sexual omnivore Lestat de Lioncourt, the gorgeous, antagonistic demon lover introduced in "Interview with a Vampire."
Laszlo, Nadja and Nandor are not that deep. It's unlikely they know what a polycule is, for one. ("What is mahw-luh?" Nadja asks Guillermo when she overhears his plan to visit the nearest shopping complex.) Nope, they're simply a bunch of horny undead roommates lacking impulse control. Getting it on whenever and with whomever they want is just how they pass the time, along with ignoring the bystanders in their midst — which now includes Kristen Schaal's The Guide, who badly wants to belong, with or without benefits.
They are not immune to jealousy, but they also get over it relatively quickly. A few centuries on Earth would loosen anyone's sexual boundaries – even a beige flag like Colin Robinson (Mark Proksch).
They are – but maybe not gay enough to balk at Sean's moronic Pride-themed campaign T-shirts reading "YAS Sean!" and "Ay, I'm Bein' Gay Over Here!" Instead Laszlo, who also volunteers to make Sean's float, confidently tells him "We'll buy the lot." Laszlo may offer Sean some semblance of a queer-friendly seal of approval, but Sean and Charmaine him aid in holding up the illusion that, like Laszlo's alter ego Jackie Daytona, he's a regular human . . . bartender.
The new season is also emerging as a second coming-out story for Guillermo, who paid his former vampire slayer-turned-vampire-turned-convenience store clerk pal Derek (Chris Sandiford) to bite him. The deed was completed, but Guillermo's transformation hasn't fully taken. Days afterward he can tolerate sunlight and eat food, but his other vampire powers are hideously and hilariously irregular.
Stunted vampirism is less of a problem for Guillermo than his realization that he's committed a crime punishable by death by going behind Nandor's back to be made by another vampire. Nandor isn't simply his master, but also Guillermo's unrequited desire; they're the show's "will they, won't they" couple even if the vampire 'ship has already sailed.
He doesn't last long, though, because Laszlo pries the truth out of him.
Laszlo had to be the one to get to the bottom of Guillermo's affair of opportunity with Derek, and not merely to make good on his report that "I am the king of bottoms." It's because he's the vampire who cares about those closest him. Colin doesn't. Nandor is fickle, having been married to more than three dozen men and women at the same time in the 14th century. He resurrects one and marries her, only to transform her into a clone of Guillermo's boyfriend when her agreeability bores him, low-key confirming that he feels something for Guillermo too.
Nadja's consciousness is divided between her undead flesh and a doll containing her human soul. And as everyone else embarks on their separate quests of the week – Nandor decides to fly to space to impress Guillermo – Dolly Nadja informs her inhuman half that she's tired of being a virgin, finagling a body swap so she can finally ride a rail.
"Trust me, dolly – you don't want your first time to be with anyone in this house," Nadja advises her spirit self once it's in her vampire body. "These people are ran through."
Overall, though, Laszlo's relationship with his "lady wife" is the center keeping this off-kilter poly-pan-pride parade on route. Remember that when you glimpse this episode's shocking coda featuring a threesome that involves only two fleshly bodies.
Obviously this house's arrangement is not the ideal example of ethical non-monogamy. The coven's arrangement is haphazard at best, both tested and held together by supernatural forces. Nevertheless, the queerest house on the block is a functional one owing to an unspoken commitment to blend their loyalty with their hedonism, making one the strong basis of the other. Outsiders like Sean may only see them as immigrants and "soopa-doopa gay," as he announces at the parade's kickoff.
To anyone who has spent five seasons hanging out behind those run-down front doors, it's plain to understand how well their mutual affection for each other, strained though it is at times, makes this odd sextet a pragmatic poly pod. For anyone who can navigate such a setup, fantastic — seriously, you do you. And you. And you! I affirm your life choices, even as contemplating the emotional labor required makes me want to pass out.
"What We Do in the Shadows" airs new episodes 10 p.m. Thursdays on FX and the next day on Hulu.
