1.1 Pilot But let’s come back to that. The vampire Lestat once said ‘I don’t know anything of hell’, and in that respect he and Lucifer couldn’t have been more different. Lacking in job satisfaction and tired of the prospect of ruling over the damned denizens of the infernal realm for all eternity (which, it has to be said, is quite a long time), the Lightbringer divests himself of all responsibilities as the Lord of Hell and exiles himself to Earth, looking instead to have a little fun. The inviting nature of this premise, (including the choice to open an L.A. based club named Lux) comes straight from the pages of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman books and whilst (according to Ellis) the writer himself is reportedly thrilled with the results, one wonders if it’s the show itself or Ellis’ central performance which has him so enamored. Whilst the episode itself failed to capture any of the dark, baroque majesty of Gaiman’s (and later Mike Carey’s) work, in Ellis the series seems to have found a perfect leading man: fittingly handsome, suitably suave and the possessor of seemingly unending reserves of impeccably English charm. It’s easy to see why mortal characters are spellbound by his presence. Sadly, the rest of the show doesn’t quite hold the same allure – whilst Lucifer’s predilection for entangling himself in the lives of mortals seems initially valid (‘I’ve got nothing but time’), the execution is much less so. Suddenly, it felt less like we were watching something new and instead like Lucifer was something we’ve all seen before. By the show’s conclusion, his return to the sexually bewitched therapist offering carnal delights in return for someone to unload onto suggested future shows may well adopt the therapy-as-a-means-of-exploring-the-character’s-oh-so-conflicted-inner-nature approach. Again, it’s nothing new. The Sopranos did it first and best, after all. But now, with this therapy trope crammed alongside the bickering, odd-couple dynamic with Detective Dancer and the seeming intent to become a case of the week show, Lucifer’s pilot gradually seemed less and less likely to deliver on its original potential. This isn’t to say that the show didn’t have its moments: the character’s supernatural ability to elicit people’s deepest, most secretive thoughts created some laugh out loud moments, especially at the wedding between the beautiful young supermodel and the ageing music industry mogul. Ellis got some good lines too, at the expense of the appropriately-named misogynistic rapper parody, 2 Vile. Lucifer’s assertion that ‘without the blues there’d be no devil’s music whatsoever. There are of course many giants in the field, just not you. Am I being clear?’ was a delightfully delivered character assassination that reduced the supposed lyricist to gruffly-worded threats. Whilst it was only the pilot and the show could yet transform into something beyond the sum of its parts, Lucifer Morningstar brought just a little too much of the light with him here; whilst the devil-may-care dashes of levity were well done in places, the mood of the show strayed far from its source material. Whilst that in itself is by no means a bad thing (and can often be a great thing), the lack of pathos present throughout the episode resulted in an overly cheery tone. Some of us like our Prince of Darkness with, well… a bit more darkness frankly; the tale of Lucifer is both epic and tragic in its nature and whilst it’s all well and good to reason that the Fallen One has abandoned Hell to escape such trappings, surely they should lurk at the story’s edge, inescapable and undeniable.
