Netflix's newest venture into animated adaptations of video games takes a fresh approach to Devil May Cry, Capcom's iconic character action game series that debuted in 2001. Although the series acts as a reboot, allowing newcomers to start at the beginning, it remains deeply connected to its early 2000s roots. Watching the introduction set to Limp Bizkit’s 2000 nu metal hit “Rollin’” made me think, “Oh, this is targeted at divorced dads,” before I slowly realized that the things you enjoy as a child eventually become “divorced dad core.” Somehow, without me noticing, Devil May Cry has become “old,” and apparently, so have I.
Despite the fact that Capcom's game franchise has been around for decades and arguably reached its peak with 2019’s Devil May Cry 5, Netflix’s eight-episode series feels very much like a product of the games’ original early-2000s era. Yes, its music choices, like Papa Roach’s “Last Resort”, are cheesy nods to the nu metal era and might not resonate with those unfamiliar with Dante's demon-slaying exploits, but those were the tracks that Devil May Cry fans were likely enjoying during the original trilogy’s PS2 days. After getting over my existential crisis, I appreciated how committed Netflix's adaptation is to its theme, even though it took some time to get accustomed to its complex, multi-season narrative.
The essential elements of Devil May Cry are present. A younger, more agile version of Dante, portrayed by Johnny Yong Bosch (who voices his nephew Nero in the games), finds himself caught between two factions: a demon uprising led by a stylish White Rabbit and a demon-hunting government agency. The White Rabbit aims to dismantle the barrier between the human and demon worlds, allowing underworld devils to flood into the earth, and they require one of Dante’s only family heirlooms to achieve this. This iteration of Dante was orphaned at a young age and only knows the tales his mother shared about their origins. He is merely a simple demon hunter, unaware of why literal Hell is breaking loose around him.
Longtime fans know where this all leads, but I was surprised at just how intricate the show’s web of characters became by the season's end, given its relative simplicity in the games. Devil May Cry is a bustling show. Dante is at the core, but substantial portions of the eight episodes focus on the supporting cast, including fan-favorite Lady and her demon-hunting squad, as well as the fervent Vice President Baines, played by the late, great Kevin Conroy. The first half of the series is somewhat slow as it sets up the new scenario, and the core action only kicks in after the series reaches its midpoint, with several characters already having met their fate. By the second half, the show sheds much of its extraneous content and begins focusing on elements that Devil May Cry fans are likely seeking. This extensive setup seems designed to establish a foundation for future seasons, which the finale clearly hints at, but for a series known for achieving much with minimal resources, having such a large ensemble doesn't initially benefit it.
Though it starts off a bit bloated, Devil May Cry remains an exhilarating experience even as it builds up to the core elements. Dante remains as stylish, spirited, and entertaining as ever, delivering thrilling action against demons. The action sequences in Devil May Cry are exquisite, seamlessly shifting from Dante’s trademark campy flair to intense hyperviolence in an instant. During the early episodes, it’s always a relief when the lengthy exposition is briefly interrupted by scenes of Dante confronting a group of unsuspecting foes who have no clue what the gun-wielding swordsman is capable of. Then, in the latter half of the season, all that violence gains context, adding new dramatic weight and even making it cathartic.
The first half of Devil May Cry isn’t lackluster by any means, but the show takes more time than necessary to establish its rhythm. I’m curious about how non-fans will perceive this series; Netflix’s previous adaptations like Cyberpunk: Edgerunners and Castlevania have attracted viewers who haven’t played the games, but Devil May Cry feels different, like a knowing nod and wink to those who were immersed in Dante’s demon-slaying adventures two decades ago. Will its nostalgic time capsule of edgy 2000s camp appeal to today’s teenagers? That’s not for me to say. But Devil May Cry certainly had me engaged, and now that it’s cleared the way for a more traditional Dante narrative next season, I’m ready for a second round.
