Brace yourself if you've encountered a tale like this previously. Imagine vampires hailing from Staten Island, invited to a grand vampire gala. They adorn themselves in their finest vampire attire and head out to this bash, where every vampire in New York City seems to have converged. Picture leatherette-clad vampires, Coney Island carnival-inspired bloodsuckers, mime artists and punks, and vampires who've replicated Madonna's look from the iconic film "Desperately Seeking Susan" (a cinematic gem, by the way). Even the formidable clique of Manhattan's private all-girls school vampires are present. However, this grand gathering is actually a setup, a cunning trap that concludes with the Staten Island vampires fleeing, hotly pursued by the entire NYC vampire horde, as they, of course, are the heroes of our story.
Variants of this plot have made appearances throughout "What We Do in the Shadows"'s six-season journey (recall the season-one standout "The Trial" and the season-two closer "Nouveau Théâtre des Vampires"). If we weren't nearing the series' conclusion, I might feel a tad irritated about revisiting this scenario for a third time in "Come Out and Play." (A touch of nostalgia is clouding my judgment, I admit.) The incorporation of the cult classic "The Warriors" as inspiration didn't detract from the episode's appeal either. (Another stellar film; watch it if you haven't already!) Suffice it to say, I found this week's episode thoroughly captivating, filled with the lightheartedness and silliness that defines this series at its peak.
Moreover, it bestowed upon Nadja the starring role she's deserved for quite some time, showcasing her as the toughest and most confrontational member of the Staten Island crew. She rises to the occasion three times in "Come Out and Play," using her loyalty, her decently paced strides, and ultimately her superhuman strength to safeguard her vampire family (though I must concur, "vamily" is rather unpleasant). It was heartwarming to hear Laszlo profess his inability to live eternally without her. However, his newfound protectiveness feels a bit overstated, considering how distracted and detached he's been from their relationship in the past few seasons. Regardless, I was anxious about the possibility of their breakup when they were squabbling earlier in the episode, so I'll cherish their happiness. Because if your favorite fictional TV couple can't stay together, what hope does anyone in the real world possess?
Despite somewhat suspicious assertions that it was all for Nadja, Cravensworth's Monster is fully trained and ready to act as the guardian of the Staten Island vampire clan – until he gets overly excited, akin to a dog unaware of its own strength, and squeezes a vampire so hard that their eyes pop out. Jerry had it coming, honestly, both for being an unappreciative follower of the mighty Baron Afanas and for having outlived his purpose as a foil to our main vampire cast's lack of ambition.
The gang now needs a new protector, given that Guillermo has been booted out of the family. And this week, his fear of missing out (FOMO) is striking hard. (Let's be frank: He wouldn't have been invited to the ceremony as a familiar either.) It doesn't ease the situation that Guillermo's own blood relatives (yay!) don't truly understand him – his cousin Miguel (Frankie Quiñones, recently featured in "This Fool") claims he's cool with Guillermo's gay friends but doesn't believe they're actually vampires until a supernatural confrontation with a vampire who works as a barista at a late-night coffee chain unfolds.
Knowing someone who's connected to a circle of individuals who pilot sleek, customized dune buggies is invariably advantageous, particularly when those acquaintances happen to be overbearing, physically forward jocks harboring an unbeknownst lineage of Van Helsing's blood coursing through their veins. Miguel is one such individual—a challenging companion in day-to-day interactions but invaluable in times of dire need. Bringing Miguel and Guillermo, who is always ready to abandon his tasks at a moment's notice for his friends, into the Staten Island vampires' fold fortifies their stance. Similarly, the Baron reclaims his authority over the NYC vampire community, treating them as his privileged cronies with unique privileges. Even Gizmo earns a reluctant commendation from Nadja for his combat prowess, making Nandor the solitary loser of the week. In an embarrassing attempt to woo the newly single Guide, whose previous lover's head is now decomposing in the vampires' entrance hall, Nandor reveals his desperation. She, however, perceives his intentions clearly and gracefully declines, maintaining her dignity and self-respect. She understands his motive, driven purely by desperation, and is fresh from witnessing her ex-lover's head being burst like a grape in front of her acquaintances. Take a hint, Nandor.
