What I want for Guillermo de la Cruz as a person directly conflicts with what I want for him as a T.V. character. That’s an inherently silly conflict because, of course, Guillermo is just a T.V. character. But as I discussed on The Serial Fanatacist Podcast, part of what makes him so compelling on What We Do in the Shadows is how real and relatable his predicament is, despite his obviously fictional and fantastical circumstances.
None of us know what it’s like to be the put-upon familiar for a house full of self-involved vampires. But almost all of us know what it’s like to feel that your hard work is unappreciated, that your contributions are taken for granted, and that you have a greater potential that could be realized elsewhere.
That’s the cinch of this series and its blend of the spooky and the mundane — the situations are ridiculous and the emotions are heightened, but they’re also founded on something true. The show’s comedy and its drama both emerge from that amusing but occasionally affecting inflection point.
So for Guillermo the person, I want him to make good on his simple “sorry” note and move out of the Vampire Residence. I want him to become the manager of a Panera Bread, or develop his own Shark Tank-friendly business, or just become the vampire slayer-for-hire his Van Helsing roots seem to portend. I even kind of want him to make good on his ominous, sword-sharpening posture and punish the vamps who’ve strung him along for so many years (not to mention prevent them from, you know, killing more people).
Thankfully since they're already undead, vampires don't have to be socially distant.
But of course, if he did that there wouldn’t be a show anymore, and we would be deprived of all these weekly laughs and endearing moments. So for Guillermo the character, I want him to keep orbiting the universe of Nandor, Nadja, Lazlo, and Colin Robinson for as long as the series is able to get comic mileage out of this collection of knuckleheads. That’s not good for Guillermo, but it’s good for fans of the show. (And hey, maybe we get to take precedence by virtue of being actual flesh and blood human beings!)
Still, however temporary Guillermo’s sabbatical is destined to be, given the demands of episodic television, it’s nice to see him making a stand and the corresponding helplessness of his superiors without his help. The state of disarray and uselessness at the Vampire Residence in the season 2 finale is a hoot. Gags about the vamps tripping over various strewn corpses, arguing with one another over who should do the chores, and making faux-sacred bargains over picking up dry cleaning elicit the type of big laughs the show’s known for.
It’s also nice to see the season finale picking up on various story threads What We Do in the Shadows has saved for a rainy day. The return of the Vampiric Council (and Jermaine Clement’s Vladislav) to force the Staten Island vamps to pay for their trespasses is a welcome follow-up to the would-be assassins from the season premiere. The Council blames our motley crew of protagonists for Guillermo’s latent and prodigious vampire-slaying abilities, despite our motley crew of blood-suckers viewing him as an incompetent toady, in a wonderful bit of irony and escalation. And seeing each incident over the past season and half recreated for the stage, with funny flourishes and set pieces, is a delight.
But the titular “Nouveau Théâtre des Vampires” also makes for a good crucible for Guillermo, both to prove his demon-hunting mettle and to resolve his conflicted feelings about his former master. While not quite up to the level of supreme slayage in “The Curse”, it’s still cool as hell to see the budding badass swing into the theater, unleash a flurry of crosses, stakes, and holy water, and save his vampire buddies’ behinds. Guillermo’s absence, punctuated with his fang-threatening heroics, could be a means for the Staten Island vampires to realize his value, even if they can’t remember his last name. (Guesses like “Guillermo Buillermo” and “Mickey Guillermo” cracked me up.)
"Luckily we still have access to the prop library from Harry Potter."
Therein lies the alternative to either tossing away the status quo or slavishly maintaining it on What We Do in the Shadows. There is, however frayed and comically exaggerated it may be, genuine affection between master and familiar here. Guillermo may be ready to move out, but he can’t bear the thought of his erstwhile taskmasters being killed, especially over his actions. Nandor is domineering and oblivious to his familiar but also plainly misses Guillermo while he’s gone, even if he can’t fully admit it.
The answer to what we should want for Guillermo, then, may be the same one that less-serialized but still character development-focused sitcoms found back in the day — detente. We can want Guillermo to assert himself and achieve some measure of independence, while also gaining enough respect and appreciation from Nandor to stick around and continue fueling stories for however long Jermaine Clement and others want to tell them, giving us both growth and preservation.
That too can be a stumbling block, though. Other mockumentary shows like The Office and Parks and Recreation began to feel sanded down in later seasons, when a combination of audience affection and the inevitable entropy of T.V. camaraderie softened the shows’ initial character conflicts and turned almost everybody into good friends. There’s great humor and pathos in Guillermo’s dynamic with his dismissive vampiric overlords, and you’d hate to lose that entirely, even if that’s more of a concern around Episode 100 than Episode 20.
Still, in its second season, What We Do in the Shadows raised the bar both in terms of its humor and its character work, proving that Clement and his team can adapt and roll with the punches, wherever they choose to go. We saw Nadja conversing with an old woman she used to haunt when she was a little girl. We saw Colin Robinson gain a promotion that literally went to his head. And we saw Lazlo steal the show with his turn as a regular human bartender serving human alcohol beer.
But we also saw Nandor make an earnest plea to Guillermo to come home, make concessions to let that happen, and even make a show of good faith by finally turning his old familiar into a creature of the night. It’s the sort of brief bit of sincerity that makes this deeply silly show a little more than just a weekly gag-fest. And it suggests that maybe there’s a way forward for Guillermo — one that can make both him and us happy.
