Netflix’s latest foray into animated video game adaptations is a new spin on Devil May Cry, Capcom’s excellent series of character action games that kicked off in 2001. And even though the show represents a reboot of the continuity that lets the uninitiated pick things up at the beginning, it’s still deeply rooted in the series’ early ‘00s origins. Watching the opening set to Limp Bizkit’s 2000 nu metal banger “Rollin’” made me say “Oh, this show is for the divorced dads,” before I slowly realized that at some point, the things you listen to, watch, and play as a kid become “divorced dad core.” Somehow, when I wasn’t looking, Devil May Cry became “old,” and apparently, so did I.
Though Capcom’s game franchise has spanned decades and arguably received its best entry ever in 2019’s Devil May Cry 5, the Netflix series’ eight-episode run feels very much of the games’ original early-2000s era. Yes, its needle drops for edgy AMV-bait songs like Papa Roach’s “Last Resort” are cheesy nods to a nu metal heyday that might not resonate with someone who’s never played one of Dante’s demon-slaying massacres, but those were the songs of the early 2000s that Devil May Cry fans were probably listening to during the original trilogy’s PS2 run. After it stopped making me existential, I appreciated how much Netflix’s spin on the series commits to the bit, even if it took me time to warm up to its busy, multi-season setup.
Most of the important parts of Devil May Cry are here. A younger, spryer version of Dante, played by Johnny Yong Bosch (who plays his nephew Nero in the games), finds himself in the crosshairs of two factions: a demon uprising led by a dapper White Rabbit and a demon-hunting government agency. The White Rabbit seeks to tear the barrier between the human and demon worlds down, allowing the devils of the underworld to pour into the rest of the earth, and they need one of Dante’s only family heirlooms to do it. This version of Dante was orphaned at a young age and only knows the stories his mother told him about where they came from. He’s just a simple demon hunter who doesn’t know why literal Hell is rising around him.
Longtime fans know where this all leads, but I was surprised at just how elaborate the show’s entangled web of characters became by the end of the season, given that it’s all relatively simple in the games. Devil May Cry is a busy show. Dante is at the center of it all, but there are large swaths of the eight episodes that focus on the supporting cast, such as fan-favorite Lady and the rest of her demon-hunting unit, and the religious zealot Vice President Baines, played by the late, great Kevin Conroy. The first half of the show is a bit plodding as it establishes the new setup, and you only get into the meat of what matters after the show’s halfway through and plenty of characters have already fallen. By the time it reaches the second half, the show has dropped a lot of dead weight and started focusing on the stuff Devil May Cry fans are probably looking for. Much of this prolonged setup feels designed to lay groundwork for future seasons, which the finale unambiguously tees up, but for a series that has been known to do a lot with very little, having such a huge ensemble doesn’t do it many favors in the beginning.
Though it’s a bit bloated to start, Devil May Cry is still a rollicking good time even while it’s getting to the good stuff. Dante is as stylish, rambunctious, and delightful to watch wreck shop on demons as he’s ever been. The action in Devil May Cry is sublime, rapidly oscillating from Dante’s signature campy swagger to dramatic hyperviolence at the drop of a hat. During the early episodes, it’s always a relief when the long-winded exposition is briefly broken up by scenes of Dante facing off against a small pack of poor bastards who have no idea what the gunslinging swordsman is capable of. Then the second half of the season puts all that violence into context, lending it new dramatic weight and even making it cathartic to boot.
Devil May Cry’s first half isn’t bad by any stretch, but the show takes more time than it should to find its footing. I’m curious to see how non-fans react to this show; Netflix’s previous game adaptations like Cyberpunk: Edgerunners and Castlevania have brought in people who never played those games, but Devil May Cry feels different, like a knowing nod and wink to the people who were playing through Dante’s demon-slaying adventures 20 years ago. Will its cheesy time capsule of edgy 2000s camp be appealing to the modern teenager? That’s not me, so I can’t say for sure. But Devil May Cry had me in its sights, and now that it’s cleared space for a more traditional Dante story next season, I’m down for a second round.
