Spoiler alert! The following contains details from the series finale of FX's "What We Do in the Shadows."
No more need to hide the virgins of Staten Island: The vampires of "What We Do in the Shadows" are no more.
FX's impeccable mockumentary came to a close Monday night (but is still streaming on Hulu) after six seasons of blood, tomfoolery and real human bartenders. And it did so in a quintessentially "Shadows" way: With a song, a dance, a great pop-culture parody and just the right amount of mundanity.
Whether it went highbrow, lowbrow or some very weird place in between, "Shadows" made for dozens of reliably hilarious episodes. Long-running, consistently funny and inventive comedy shows are few and far between these days, and "Shadows" was remarkable for how unremarkable it was: It was never the biggest comedy on the air, but it never had an episode that let you down. Maintaining quality for that many episodes isn't easy, and the record of consistency would have pleased its immortal vampire protagonists, who, as the finale proved, never grow or change no matter how many years pass. That would be way too much work for them.
The writers seemed acutely aware of the pressure to go out with some kind of bang, as most big finale episodes attempt, but it was both brave and fitting that the last installment went just as the 60 before it had: The vampires did something silly, something boring, and even something a little sweet. It was, of course, very funny. And a little sad, as all endings are.
The episode starts out with some pre-credits high jinks as Laszlo (Matt Berry) and Colin (Mark Proksch) detail the latest with Laszlo's Frankenstein's monster-like-creation (the monster is, uh, sexually aroused) and their new plan to build a bride for the creature. Nandor (Kayvan Novak) is still trying to sell Guillermo (Harvey Guillén) on teaming up in an "equal" partnership as a crimefighting duo, complete with superhero outfits. It's all fun and absurd and usual, until all of a sudden the vampires walk out on their interviews. It turns out the "documentary" camera crew that is the conceit of the series is leaving the mansion after six years. The long-living vampires are unfazed by this - it's not even the first documentary made about them, they explain - but Guillermo isn't coping well with such a big change.
Guillermo's big feelings are bulldozed by typical "Shadows" malarkey: He makes a heartfelt speech while, in the background, the monster, er, couples with a taxidermied bear. Then Guillermo tries to think of a good ending for the documentary, but Nadja (Natasia Demetriou) "hypnotizes" the audience into imagining the perfect coda (it looks a lot like "The Usual Suspects").
In the end, Guillermo tucks Nandor into his coffin one last time, telling his former master that the end of the documentary is his signal to move on with his life, and he may never see the vampires again. With tears in his eyes, Guillermo closes the coffin and the credits start to roll.
But this is "Shadows," and that's a bit too clean and sappy of an ending. The film crew starts removing all their equipment and Guillermo comes back into the room and opens Nandor's coffin. It turns out the crafty little human made up the whole story about leaving, just to give the documentary a good ending, but in reality he's going to hang around, even if he's not actually into crimefighting. Nandor invites him into the coffin, which he has somehow already made into a secret elevator to his lair. These crazy vampires and their inventions!
As the credits continue to roll, we see the whole gang watch early moments from the series, their first viewing of the "documentary." Suffice to say they are unimpressed.
Other than the momentum lost to the "Usual Suspects" bit, the "Shadows" finale was very much what fans have come to expect and love about the series. Not only did it offer moments for each character to shine, it also kept its focus on the heart and soul of the series: Guillermo and his sweater vests. The episode wisely stayed inside the house and kept things small and simple.
Maybe there wasn't a big lesson to learn or a whole lot of change in this old house on Staten Island, but there was a dorky guy and his vampire friends in old cloaks, and it was never not funny to see them all interact. Perhaps six seasons was enough, but this is the kind of show with enough talent and material to go on and on. The series itself was an extension of a 2014 film. There are so many stories in this world to tell.
Good thing vampires live forever. You never know what could happen in the future.