Interview with the Vampire (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - ...After the Phantoms of Your Former Self - full transcript
"...After the Phantoms of your Former Self" Louis learns vampire rules from Lestat.
So, Mr. du Lac. How
long have you been dead?
I'm saying you'd do it for 10%.
10% for all the work?
These men look down on you.
Do you not know your value?
He wouldn't tell
me how he did it.
Don't do that here!
Not with my family.
I loved my brother more
than anyone on Earth.
Paul! Paul!
Paul's in Hell because of you.
Help me, please!
I laid down with the devil.
It's Venetian.
A contemporary of Tintoretto's.
"Marius de Romanus."
Never heard of him.
Little of his work survives.
Mr. de Pointe du
Lac covets the rare.
Do you hear that?
I keep hearing that sound.
Well, the building sways a bit,
but that is according to its
design, given the height.
We call it the groan.
It won't disturb your
meal, which is ready now.
Did you always work for him?
Please have a seat.
Sign an NDA?
I mean, is it only work
or are you and he...?
I serve a god.
It is my honor to serve.
Mr. de Pointe du Lac will
join you at course seven.
Seven? Wait, but how
many courses are there?
Fattening me up for
the inevitable end?
Butler #1: Duck foie gras
terrine, pickled fruit,
roasted apple bonbon.
There he is.
You missed at least three
or four endangered species.
I want to apologize for
my outburst earlier.
I can assure you, it
will not happen again.
Memory is a monster.
We forget, it doesn't.
Uh, this is session two,
Louis de Pointe du Lac.
Eh, can we turn down the music?
Butler #1: Ajoblanco.
Bread, crushed almonds,
garlic, olive oil, and salt,
a garnish of green grapes,
and AB negative,
fresh from the farm.
Bon appétit.
Part of me wants to
ask about the farm.
Two vampires walk into a church.
That's where we left off.
Blissing out post-priesticide.
Louis: The bliss was merely a
stage in my transformation...
Pain followed, a seizing
and unrelenting pain,
through which I would pass
before my apprenticeship began.
What's happening?
Lestat: Your body is confused.
Your lungs feel like
water, your heart, fire.
You feel as if you're dying,
because you are.
And then, there's the retching.
I recognize the hypocrite I am,
emphasizing cleanliness
after I overindulged,
but a proper disposal is the
penance of a sated vampire.
And you won't always have a
conveniently located graveyard
nearby, so...
Nuh-uh-uh-uh.
Nuh-uh-uh.
We live off the
blood of the living.
Lap up the blood of the deceased
and it'll suck you
right down into death,
along with your victim.
Hmm?
Ugh.
Uh.
Louis.
There's the spark.
Louis: Lestat's blood
was giggling inside me,
teasing my senses,
illuminating the district
with overwhelming detail,
as if I had walked my
entire life as a dead man,
and now, dead, could
finally receive
the secrets of existence.
Daniel: You were
fucking loaded.
Beyond articulation.
Lestat: Your ears
will pick up the world
like a maddening
symphony.
Follow my voice,
a single strain.
Your eyes will wander,
led by your hunger.
Are you hungry, Louis?
Uh-huh.
They were your brothers
and sisters once,
but now they're your
savory inferiors.
A young Tempranillo,
fleshy and tart.
A Primitivo, hints of iron,
rather plain otherwise.
A pair of oak-aged cabernet,
thick-skinned and chewy.
You have the power to
subdue anyone you want,
but sometimes restraint is
your most powerful weapon.
Straight
to the prettiest girl
at the party.
I admire the aesthetic,
but you'll spend
most of your evening
trying to separate
him from his crew.
You'll race the sun to the kill,
and when he turns up
missing in the morning,
you'll have half the frigate
on the prowl, looking for him.
In the beginning, it's best
to let the food come to you.
Here you go.
I was a baby bird
in Lestat's nest...
Not yet ready to hunt,
but desperate to feed.
So, I'm
taking my daughter
to... to look at
horses, uh, Palominos.
You know, those... Those
Indian types that...
That they run free out West,
and, uh, I gotta tell you,
I'm, uh, I'm doing pretty
good for myself, you know?
It's a new century,
new job, so I'm actually
entertaining the thought
of getting her one of these,
you know, a special horse.
We go down to the fairground.
She says, "Daddy, why is
that horse walking so funny?
Why is his... his back all
crumpled up like that?"
Well, I tell her, I say,
"Honey, once the work has gotten
used all up out of a
horse..."
"this is what happens..."
Amusing, their relentless
questions at that age.
That's right.
I tell her, "This is
the nature of things.
Someone has to
hew the oats, someone
has to harvest the corn,
the harrow, the tiller."
Why are
you gentlemen down here?
Uh, now, what do you
grow? You grow cotton?
Sugar.
Sugar... Sugar.
Careful, mon cher, you're
beginning to frighten the man.
Um...
So, I look at my daughter's
tear-stained face
and I say to her, "Maggie,
that's why your daddy
sells tractors."
International Harvester Farmall.
Go ahead and take that.
Might come in handy.
Salesman:
So
I am talking about gas-powered,
open-geared beast of burden.
Ooh-la-la.
This is fancy, right here.
Uh, just to be clear
here, gents, we...
We are here to talk
about, uh, farm equipment.
Am I right? Mm.
And a streamline
tractor, you know,
not only gonna
increase your harvest,
but it's gonna keep
your child from tears.
Oh, thank y-you.
You, uh, on your sleeve...
Whenever you're ready, Louis.
I knew it. I knew you...
Aah!
What the fuck?
The neck. Bite
the neck, Louis.
No...
No, you don't bite the blood.
You suck it.
Yes, yes, that's
better.
Good.
For our next carpet,
I'm thinking Persian.
Arabesque maybe.
Certainly need a more efficient
way of ridding the waste.
Ugh.
The first time is
the most unwieldy.
Soon you'll be a natural.
You'll come to enjoy it, its
variations, little surprises.
I-I gotta go home.
This is your home
now, Louis. Breathe.
I... I gotta collect
money from the cribs.
I have all the money
we need. Breathe.
I have to go see Grace and Paul.
Oh, dear. You ain't
fuckin' hearin' me!
I... I need to go home.
You're going to find
that very difficult.
Hey!
What the hell?
Hey, now.
That's coming out of my pay.
Lord Jesus!
Lemme in!
Let me in, God damn it!
Open the fucking door!
The sun gives life
to everything but us.
I should have taught you that.
The life of a vampire
has its challenges
and its rewards...
but I think New Orleans,
with its music, culture,
cuisine, shipping
yards, conventioneers,
thrill-seeking tourists
far-flung from their homes,
the laissez-faire attitude
of the local police force
oh, yes...
the perfect setting
for a vampire home...
a
vampire romance.
I ain't sleepin' in there.
We'll get you your
own soon enough.
You've had a long life, Louis,
and such an
extraordinary one ahead.
Have a rest.
It's okay.
You can be on top.
Helluva bender.
He rushed me headlong
through the encounter
as if it were something
to put behind us.
Death, rebirth,
coming out, homicide,
too many firsts for one night.
Coming out?
You robbed a daughter of her
father, maybe a pet pony.
How's sexuality play in that?
It's a complicated
question, Daniel,
and we shouldn't conflate it
with the salesman's death.
Humor me.
To satisfy your fixation,
being transformed by Lestat,
being desired by him,
bedding down with him
was an overture of sorts
to that side of my nature.
To the shame of queer
theorists everywhere.
I got in that coffin
on my own free will.
In the quiet dark,
we were equals.
White master, Black student,
but equal in the quiet dark.
Provocation.
Is this the primary
tool one walks away with
after downloading
your Internet class?
Butler #1: Rabbit, three
ways, and Vulpes rueppellii,
or Ruppell's sand fox.
Back to the salesman for a sec.
Clearly, you were
haunted by it, the...
The taste of his blood in
the back of your throat,
up in your gums.
Let me ask you, Daniel,
do you contemplate the life of
the rabbit before you cut it?
Or do you simply cut?
Mmm.
Vampires are killers,
apex predators whose
all-seeing eyes
were meant to give
them detachment,
the ability to see a human
life in its entirety,
not with any mawkish sorrow,
but with the
thrilling satisfaction
of being the end of that life
and having a hand
in the divine plan.
Don't expect every reader
to swallow that one.
That's the purpose.
Our book must be a warning
as much as anything.
It was the right
line of questioning.
I was haunted by the salesman,
and as a fledgling vampire,
I did not readily
take to killing.
When I first started learning
English, I abhorred it.
Every word felt like a doorknob
falling out of my mouth.
Chapeau is a hat,
étoile was a star...
Killin' folks ain't
a second language.
But when I started
dreaming in English,
that's when I embraced it.
And now, I have English
consonants to thank
for this astonishing jawline.
These are nightmares I'm
having, Lestat, not dreams.
Finn, how's your arm?
Is it healing properly?
You might need a proper
doctor, my friend.
Me arm's fine.
You let me know
if you need a doc.
There is something,
Mr. du Lac.
The new gaming house you're
fixing up for the alderman,
I want to manage it.
I'm good with people, and
I'm good with numbers.
Hmm...
I'll take it up with Fenwick.
Much obliged.
Mm-hmm.
He's lying, you know.
He'll figure I'm a bean counter.
No, he wants the job so
he can steal from you.
Overcharge for
drinks and women...
Not enough for you to notice,
but enough to make him
"good extra," he calls it.
And you know that 'cause you
got in his head just now?
Vampires can read
minds, mon cher.
Right.
And you gon' sit on
that skill for how long?
Hmm.
You gon' make me beg?
One might think the
ability to read a mind
a most useful gift, but, in
reality, it's quite mundane.
I forget I can do it most days.
Is that right?
Every human thought boils
down to three things...
"I want food," "I want
sex," "I want to go home."
You see that man right there?
I want you to peel
away every sound
until you find his heartbeat.
Now hold the heartbeat.
You hear his lungs
leaking and flooding air?
His mind is just
another bodily sound.
Panhandler: Day and a
half since my last meal.
Church says, "Pray about it."
The Lord can't make me no food.
"I want
food." Shall we?
Woman: It's not
cheating with a woman
because I can't get pregnant.
"I want sex."
Man: I'm gonna ditch this
town and be somebody.
That's not... Give it a moment.
Or I'll just go home.
Voilà.
Wait. I saw a little flash
just now of his house.
Yes.
You'll see, as your powers grow,
you can see their thoughts,
like a one-reeler almost.
Dull, monotonous picture shows.
It's a very distracting gift,
the petty musings of meat.
Peel back on me then.
What am I thinkin' right now?
You'll have to tell me yourself.
A sacrifice is made when
the Dark Gift is shared.
You can't read my mind anymore?
The architects of our
creation mean to humble us.
We're at the mercy of
the other's discretion.
Just like the meat.
Hmm.
You're not one of them
anymore, fledgling.
You chase after phantoms
of your former self.
I'll break you of it.
Louis: My unwillingness
to separate from humanity
was a constant struggle
in my vampiric existence.
I felt it was essential
to maintain ties.
But it was getting
more difficult.
The curtain goes up at eight.
We'll only be here an hour.
They'll seat us late, and
we'll miss Nora's entrance
with the Christmas tree.
You ain't gon' miss anything.
Look what the wind blew in.
Louis: Mama.
You remember Lestat.
Madame de Pointe du Lac,
all the kindness
for the invitation.
I don't remember
inviting him, but please,
take your overdressed
self and have a fine time.
I see you have a banjo
band in your front yard.
Mm-hmm.
Madame.
Louis.
Was that necessary?
Move half a mile away,
don't come see your
family for half a season.
Don't come
back fragile, son.
Haven't heard a
knock on my door.
It's a half-mile
both ways, Mama.
Hm.
Look at his nails.
He's getting his
fingernails done.
And the glasses?
Some fashion certain
men like him do.
Lord.
Eye doc says I gotta wear
them from now forward.
Sensitive eyes.
You seen Grace about?
Louis: You seen my
alligator, ma'am?
Seems I lost it
by the punchbowl.
Oh, been too long.
I know, I know.
Wait.
Oh, my.
You makin' me an
uncle right here?
Who told you? No one told me.
It was Levi. I could
tell by the look...
I ain't far enough
along. On your face.
He shouldn't be
telling anyone. And...
And what? And...
And what?
Gon' be twins.
You a fool doctor now?
Oh, I miss you, Louis.
Yeah.
You hearin' me?
Look at me, Louis.
Take them glasses off and
look at your baby sister.
Don't. Gimme those back.
Your eyes...
like a church window.
Same eyes, same me.
Different you.
Better you, I'd say.
You hide from me
this long again,
I'll hunt you down
and slap you sideways.
I got you something.
Oh, no, Louis.
What is this? I don't
need your money.
It ain't for you,
it's for the babies.
Stop it with the "babies".
One's gon' be plenty.
There's two of 'em.
Well.
This'll come in handy, then.
Levi ain't the
businessman you are.
So, how's it in the district?
Must be good if
this here's extra.
Oh.
Now, I-I know it's
hard to see it now,
but Mr. Fenwick
gon' have himself
the most profitable
sportin' house
this side of Basin Street.
The alderman
certainly thinks so,
but then you have to ask
yourself why he sent me.
New business, new partner.
No, sir, Mr. Carlo, I-I'd
do the same thing myself.
You got your own personal
attorney, do you, boy?
No, sir.
But then, I'm not
an alderman, am I?
No, you're his partner.
Hm.
These balconies, they have
to be decorative only.
Building codes allow those for
residents, not for business.
Well, that's only if
you call it a balcony.
What are you callin' it?
Fire escape.
That's clever, my boy.
That's very clever.
Right.
Dozen rooms, proper
acoustics for the musicians.
You know, good
for those waitin'.
Best to drown out the
business behind the walls.
Yes.
Oh, you really do have a mind
inside out head of yours,
don't you?
I-I know some of the
finishes seem penny heavy,
but it's the alderman's
name goin' out there,
so every detail has to
shout "exclusivity".
You're bright and
industrious, huh?
I trust you're overseeing all
stages of construction as well?
Yes, sir.
Fire escape.
Now, I must say, I
had my doubts, but
you really have earned your 15%.
You truly are an
exceptional Negro.
Thank you, sir. Mm-hmm.
Ah, "fire escape."
Louis: "Exceptional
Negro." Ah, yes.
"Thank you, sir."
It was the call and
response of my entire life.
I had let them talk to
me like that so long,
I stopped hearing it.
"Yes, sir."
"Of course, sir."
Subject, verb, agreement, "sir".
Smile, nod, "yes, sir."
They all came from the
same organ inside me...
An organ unknown to
science at the time.
Because what scientist would
look for an organ found only
in Black men who use
their weakness to rise?
But I wasn't a man anymore.
I was something else.
I had powers now and
decades of rage to process,
and it was both random
and unfortunate,
the man picked that night
to dabble in fuckery.
If not him, would have
been the next man.
Louis, my boy, j...
This was your man's
esquire, sent in his stead!
I was hungry. Stone's throw
from your place of business.
What were you thinking?
He disrespected me.
How did he do that?
He told me I did a good job.
You are a library of confusion.
There's some
things...
you don't get about
America, Lestat.
Yes, let's have this
conversation again.
Colored, white.
Creole, French.
Queer, half-queer,
mostly queer, what is it?
Non-discriminating.
Complicated situation
we got here's what I'm saying.
A couple
of parish priests
go missing, people say, "Fine.
Most likely kid-fiddlers."
But this, this was an
important man in town.
The police will be looking
for this man, fledgling.
That's why we got
this beast, yeah?
No, you need to show
restraint, fledgling!
Oh, you need to stop
using that word right now,
'cause it's soundin'
a little like "slave".
Don't say it.
Well, that's what
it fuckin' sound like.
It's what it feel
like sometimes.
And the carousel
comes around again.
Fuck you.
Lestat: I don't
like sleeping angry.
For the record, if
disrespect was done to you,
I would have killed him myself.
Well, what can I do
to make it up to you?
I wanna buy the
Fair Play Saloon.
That's ambitious.
If you don't wanna
help, I'll do it myself.
Ridiculous of you to mix
human and vampire business.
It always ends poorly.
But how can I stop you?
How can I say no to you?
Man: Sign here
and here and here.
Tom: Well, I do not see the
clause in this paperwork
wherein I continue to
eat, drink, and fornicate
on the house.
Louis?
You have my word, and my
word is thicker than paper...
Mm. Tom.
Louis: It was a grand and
loving gesture on Lestat's part.
That's a mighty tall ladder
you're climbin', Mr. du Lac.
And I was now the owner
of the brightest
club in the district.
My club, my rules.
I opened the doors to
anyone with money to burn.
I paid the staff better,
paid the band better,
all the while helping
those who had been with me
down the block to
better themselves.
Miss Williams. Mr. Du Lac.
And it was a pointless
point of pride
that I paid back every cent
I borrowed from Lestat.
It was everything I had
ever wanted or wished for.
And it doubled nicely as
a revolving door of prey.
You fellas know where I can
find the Fair Play Saloon?
You about five years late.
So how long are you in town for?
Man: Uh, yeah, I'm just...
From 1912 to 1917,
I made a mountain of money,
enough to retire and be
buried like a pharaoh.
But in the essential duties
of the executor in charge,
I had been most delinquent.
We named him Benjamin.
Benny.
Did you even meet the twins?
No, ma'am. Ma'am?
I look that old to you?
No, I mean, I haven't
had the pleasure
of meetin' more of the family.
I've been so busy with
work, and, you know...
Him?
You know my situation.
How are things with you and...
It's Lestat still, right?
Yes, it's Lestat. Shh!
Got some gumbo on
the stove still.
Tasted great this evening.
Let me fix you something.
I'm good.
Hold your nephew.
He's the quiet one, this one.
The other two...
the twins?
Lord, help us.
All right. Here it is.
Still warm.
Well?
No, please.
You look good.
You should stay the night.
I'm sure Mama would
love to see you.
Shh, shh.
Let's see if he goes
back down, let's see.
Levi: Honey, the twins
again!
Florence: Grace! Okay.
Let... Let me just see
what the hell is goin' on.
Oh, no, I... Shh.
I no longer kill.
My last victim was
in the year 2000.
Some Y2K disagreement?
I want our readers
to understand that.
Okay.
Did you eat the baby?
I sit here a master
of my instincts.
Mm-hmm.
And what about the
others out there?
Have they mastered theirs?
Just the opposite.
Most of them are
slaves to the blood,
exhausted from decades,
centuries of hiding,
giddy to increase their numbers.
Mm-hmm.
Two questions...
Did you eat the baby?
And is the pandemic the opening
they've been waiting for?
Pandemic, the unraveling of
geopolitical foundations.
And you know this how?
You guys have a thread on 8chan?
I hear them.
Our thoughts can travel
thousands of miles
to one another.
I can stand out on my
balcony, close my eyes,
and they're plotting
speeds to me.
One of them, a
brute in Madagascar,
called it "the
great conversion".
The great conversion?
Well, good luck with that,
because most people I know like
to play little ball
in the afternoon,
or maybe going
down to the beach,
catching a few rays.
Yes.
What on earth would
a meth-addicted son
of a coal miner in West
Virginia want with eternal life?
Did you eat the baby?
Or the Arab youth whose family
were wiped from existence...
Did you eat the baby?
By a Western drone?
No, I'm sure you're right.
Hello, Damek. Hey.
Mmm.
Mm-hmm.
He's American, Damek.
You like Dubai?
I haven't had the
time to sight-see.
Go to Kite Beach.
It's good.
Kites.
Mmm.
Thank you, Damek.
See you soon.
As I was saying,
I no longer kill.
You might have a
drinking problem.
Rashid!
The baby.
Grace: Benny? Benny!
Louis: I had him in my
arms...
and I was ready
to tear into him.
I'm never gon' get
control over it.
You've been skipping
meals lately.
Don't think I haven't noticed.
It was my nephew.
You have to stop
seeing them, Louis.
They'll grow fearful of you
if they haven't already.
I can't do it.
It's a rite of
passage for all of us.
If you love your family,
as I know you do,
spare them all the pain
that you are causing them.
I ain't never gon' have
a family of my own, am I?
No sons, no daughters.
I'm your family, Louis.
You should just throw
me in the incinerator
and make another one.
Hmm. And what a
waste that would be.
I have two centuries walked
this Earth and can report,
you have no twin.
No one as angry, as
stubborn, as unaccommodating,
as maddening... Sound
like trash to me.
As loving, as dedicated,
as thoughtful,
as imperfectly perfect
as you've become.
You're a challenge every
sunset, Saint Louis,
and I'd have it no other way.
Here's an idea...
Let's take a holiday.
What about Rome?
Rome? R-Rome, Italy?
Would you prefer
Rome, Wisconsin?
I can't just pick
up and go to Rome.
I got a business to run.
Leave the Azalea to the
capable hands of Miss Bricktop
and follow the Appian Way.
How you gon' get coffins
across the Atlantic?
It can be an inconvenience,
but not impossible, obviously.
Well, how do you get them
from ship to train to cab?
Ah, the changeovers can be
jarring, I'll give you that.
Well, maybe there's a deaf,
blind porter we can hire
and kill when we
get to the hotel.
Well, I had been
thinking the Inghilterra.
Imagine hunting
between the Caffe Greco
and the Spanish Steps.
But you've made
your point. Pity.
We'll just have to settle
for Rome coming to us.
Oh, another opera.
Not another opera.
Donizetti's comic
masterpiece, "Don Pasquale."
I was an acquaintance of
his, and I saw the premiere
at the Salle Ventadour
73 years ago,
and I remember it
like it was yesterday.
I almost ate my nephew, Lestat.
It's the soprano Sofia
Consoli's American debut,
her fifth stop in
a 22-city tour,
so the orchestra should
be in excellent form.
I have a private box,
and I had tuxedos made.
I've been neglectful
of our romance.
And a steadfast pupil
deserves a divine reward.
He had a way about him,
those first years, Lestat.
Preternaturally charming,
occasionally thoughtful.
He was my murderer, my mentor,
my lover, and my maker...
All of those things at once.
He didn't choose me
to be his doormat.
I knew he enjoyed it
when I fought back,
but there was present
a kind of worship on my part.
The earth beneath me
always felt liquid.
The status I enjoyed
in Storyville
did not extend itself to
the operators and patrons
of the French Opera House
on Bourbon and Toulouse.
We did what we always did
to avoid conflicts there.
I performed as his valet,
walked a pace behind him,
took his overcoat once
we found our seats,
remained standing in
the back of the box
until the lights went down,
and only joined next to him
once the overture had begun.
And again...
he had a way about him,
so that as I sat there
trying to practice restraint,
simmering in my indignation...
Lestat seized it as
opportunity to disarm me.
There is one thing
about being a vampire
that I most fear
above all else...
And that is loneliness.
You can't imagine
the emptiness...
A void stretching out
for decades at a time.
You take this feeling
away from me, Louis.
We must stay together
and take precaution
and never part.
How many of us are out there?
We can't be the only ones.
How many vampires?
Not many, I'm afraid.
Maybe 100,
101.
Louis: The touring
production of "Don Pasquale"
was a cheap affair,
but the soprano was everything
Lestat said she would be.
And music,
that was where Lestat
separated man from food.
Music pierced his damned soul.
And any human who were involved
with the creation of it
existed on an elevated
plane in his eyes.
I was moved to see he too
had his human attachments.
And this woman sang
for us, it seemed,
articulating the difficult love
we often had trouble
expressing ourselves.
There was one issue, however,
that threatened to pop the
bubble of our Italian holiday,
and that was the
tenor playing Ernesto.
To be kind, he did not live
in the soprano's
vocal stratosphere...
Ah.
And Lestat was unamused.
I don't understand
how someone like that
can make it onto a stage.
I understand they're
a rogue company,
but are they pulling talent
from roadside gas stations?
It didn't help matters that
the majority of the audience
didn't seem to notice.
And so Lestat oscillated his
disdain between the tenor
and the witless swamp-dwellers
in the seats below.
The curtain fell
like a guillotine,
and Lestat leapt to his
feet in mock appreciation,
which could mean
only one thing...
The hunt was on.
I stood in the lobby bar,
nursing my complicity,
as rounds were bought
and fake praise
was lavished upon the mark.
And I was surprised by a wave
of nausea coming over me.
Here I was, six years his pupil,
and it was no different
than the tractor salesman.
This poor soul
was someone's son,
someone's brother,
and he was to be butchered.
For what?
An offending note?
Wrong.
He sat the tenor down, opened
up the score in front of him
and sang as it was written.
And you could see all the
doubts the young man had
about his art,
about himself, exposed on
his nodding, agreeable face.
Lestat removed a lifetime
of confidence, of joy,
in less than half an hour.
So no more of your sound
can pollute this world.
Why do you do this,
Lestat?
Well, I like to
do it. I enjoy it.
Well, I don't.
You don't have to humiliate him.
Well, I don't say that
you have to enjoy it!
Kill them swiftly if
you have to, but do it!
Embrace what you are!
You are a killer, Louis!
Come now, love,
let's get you to
the couch to die.
Louis: I was in denial.
For in bringing death,
Lestat was an artist.
He had cut the man tenderly so
that he could not call for help,
but also so that his death
was slow, meditative.
And I felt a charge
witnessing it.
I listened to his
thoughts as Lestat drank,
and this time, they
came with vision.
I could see his life
as he remembered it.
Scenes from an
Italian childhood...
The Easter pageant in
a mountain village,
an afternoon with his
father on the sea,
watching the fishing boats
slowly encircle
a school of tuna.
Something about a wet piece
of bread in his pocket.
If you'd listen to me, if you
finally submit to your nature,
you will be filled, Louis,
with all the life you can hold.
You will see death
in all its beauty,
life as it is only known at
the very point of the death.
You alone, of all creatures,
can see death with
that impunity.
You alone, under
the rising moon...
Can strike like the hand of God.
And I'll say it for a
third time and no more...
He had a way about him.
And I was still very
much under his power.
We would drain the tenor
for hours that night.
Lestat completely enthralled.
Myself, pretending to be.
Afraid to disappoint.
Lestat was wrong.
I was never going
to be a natural.
I was never going to
savor the aftertaste.
I was a shame-ridden
second, a... a fumbling,
despondent killer,
a botched vampire.
I try to have a human
dish once a week
to maintain the thread.
There was an offhanded remark in
your memoir about this dessert.
I hope you don't mind.
What does this
taste like to you?
Like almost all human food...
Like paste,
chalk,
like soap.
This is the dessert I had after
I proposed to my first wife,
after I got my shit together.
We were in Paris.
Little cafe on the
Rue Servandoni,
up the way from Saint-Sulpice.
I know it. It's a
beautiful street.
Alice...
Half of her eyebrow
was blond, like a mutt.
She always dyed
it back to brown.
I liked it when
she left it alone.
Louis: Do you ever
think that we...
That's to say, our kind...
Were put on earth
for a larger purpose?
How was your night? Fine.
Jonah: So you a big-shot
businessman now.
I like a little variety.
The devil walks at night.
Louis: Is my very nature
that of the devil?
Two vampires walk into a church.
That's where we left off.
Blissing out...
post priest-icide.
Jones: Episode 2, "After the
Phantoms of Your Former Self"...
It is Louis de Pointe du
Lac as fledgling vampire
and Lestat as his
master teacher.
Are you hungry, Louis? Uh-huh.
Louis trying to figure out
what this new world is,
what the burdens are, and
how to use these powers.
His mind is just
another bodily sound.
Day and a half
since my last meal.
Part of the tension
here becomes about
"I am a different species
than these people."
So if you're a vampire
and you're a Black man
and people don't know
that you're a vampire,
you are going to run up
against a couple of things.
Bright and industrious, huh?
And you don't have to put up
with that bullshit anymore.
Louis: It was both
random and unfortunate
the man picked that night
to dabble in fuckery.
But you can't be dropping
bodies left and right.
What were you thinking?
He disrespected me.
How did he do that?
He told me I did a good job.
You are a
library of confusion.
We get to have a little
fun with race and sexuality
and then the burdens
of an interracial,
interspecies relationship.
You need to show
restraint, fledgling!
You need to stop using
that word right now,
'cause it sounded a little
like "slave." Don't say it.
Well, that's what it
fuckin' sound like.
And also the professor-student
relationship. It's messy.
But something about
taking of human life
is not sitting
well with Louis...
and the complications of trying
to have a foot in both worlds...
I... I need to go home.
Sort of reminds him
of what a monster he
thinks he's become.
The killing of the
tenor is, I think,
the final sort of
straw that, like,
"this is never gonna
be comfortable for me."
"I'm never gonna be a
vampire like Lestat."
Lestat: If you finally
submit to your nature,
you'll see death
in all its beauty.
While he is at his
most articulate
about what this is about,
Louis fully admits it...
"I'm not buying it."
But he was still so under
the throes of Lestat,
so he fakes it.
Louis: Afraid to disappoint.
Jones: The idea of
being a botched vampire,
that slowly begins to kind of
open up something inside Molloy.
I was never going to
savor the aftertaste.
I was a shame-ridden second,
a fumbling, despondent killer.
Like any good journalist,
he's sniffing around
for what the armor is,
but there are things
in this story where
you sit back and say,
"Hmm, vampires...
They're just like us."
This is the dessert I had after
I proposed to my first wife.
He starts opening
up a little bit,
catches himself and
turns off the interview
and I think begins to, you
know, start that road down
"how am I gonna
empathize against
this predator that feasts
on people like me?"
long have you been dead?
I'm saying you'd do it for 10%.
10% for all the work?
These men look down on you.
Do you not know your value?
He wouldn't tell
me how he did it.
Don't do that here!
Not with my family.
I loved my brother more
than anyone on Earth.
Paul! Paul!
Paul's in Hell because of you.
Help me, please!
I laid down with the devil.
It's Venetian.
A contemporary of Tintoretto's.
"Marius de Romanus."
Never heard of him.
Little of his work survives.
Mr. de Pointe du
Lac covets the rare.
Do you hear that?
I keep hearing that sound.
Well, the building sways a bit,
but that is according to its
design, given the height.
We call it the groan.
It won't disturb your
meal, which is ready now.
Did you always work for him?
Please have a seat.
Sign an NDA?
I mean, is it only work
or are you and he...?
I serve a god.
It is my honor to serve.
Mr. de Pointe du Lac will
join you at course seven.
Seven? Wait, but how
many courses are there?
Fattening me up for
the inevitable end?
Butler #1: Duck foie gras
terrine, pickled fruit,
roasted apple bonbon.
There he is.
You missed at least three
or four endangered species.
I want to apologize for
my outburst earlier.
I can assure you, it
will not happen again.
Memory is a monster.
We forget, it doesn't.
Uh, this is session two,
Louis de Pointe du Lac.
Eh, can we turn down the music?
Butler #1: Ajoblanco.
Bread, crushed almonds,
garlic, olive oil, and salt,
a garnish of green grapes,
and AB negative,
fresh from the farm.
Bon appétit.
Part of me wants to
ask about the farm.
Two vampires walk into a church.
That's where we left off.
Blissing out post-priesticide.
Louis: The bliss was merely a
stage in my transformation...
Pain followed, a seizing
and unrelenting pain,
through which I would pass
before my apprenticeship began.
What's happening?
Lestat: Your body is confused.
Your lungs feel like
water, your heart, fire.
You feel as if you're dying,
because you are.
And then, there's the retching.
I recognize the hypocrite I am,
emphasizing cleanliness
after I overindulged,
but a proper disposal is the
penance of a sated vampire.
And you won't always have a
conveniently located graveyard
nearby, so...
Nuh-uh-uh-uh.
Nuh-uh-uh.
We live off the
blood of the living.
Lap up the blood of the deceased
and it'll suck you
right down into death,
along with your victim.
Hmm?
Ugh.
Uh.
Louis.
There's the spark.
Louis: Lestat's blood
was giggling inside me,
teasing my senses,
illuminating the district
with overwhelming detail,
as if I had walked my
entire life as a dead man,
and now, dead, could
finally receive
the secrets of existence.
Daniel: You were
fucking loaded.
Beyond articulation.
Lestat: Your ears
will pick up the world
like a maddening
symphony.
Follow my voice,
a single strain.
Your eyes will wander,
led by your hunger.
Are you hungry, Louis?
Uh-huh.
They were your brothers
and sisters once,
but now they're your
savory inferiors.
A young Tempranillo,
fleshy and tart.
A Primitivo, hints of iron,
rather plain otherwise.
A pair of oak-aged cabernet,
thick-skinned and chewy.
You have the power to
subdue anyone you want,
but sometimes restraint is
your most powerful weapon.
Straight
to the prettiest girl
at the party.
I admire the aesthetic,
but you'll spend
most of your evening
trying to separate
him from his crew.
You'll race the sun to the kill,
and when he turns up
missing in the morning,
you'll have half the frigate
on the prowl, looking for him.
In the beginning, it's best
to let the food come to you.
Here you go.
I was a baby bird
in Lestat's nest...
Not yet ready to hunt,
but desperate to feed.
So, I'm
taking my daughter
to... to look at
horses, uh, Palominos.
You know, those... Those
Indian types that...
That they run free out West,
and, uh, I gotta tell you,
I'm, uh, I'm doing pretty
good for myself, you know?
It's a new century,
new job, so I'm actually
entertaining the thought
of getting her one of these,
you know, a special horse.
We go down to the fairground.
She says, "Daddy, why is
that horse walking so funny?
Why is his... his back all
crumpled up like that?"
Well, I tell her, I say,
"Honey, once the work has gotten
used all up out of a
horse..."
"this is what happens..."
Amusing, their relentless
questions at that age.
That's right.
I tell her, "This is
the nature of things.
Someone has to
hew the oats, someone
has to harvest the corn,
the harrow, the tiller."
Why are
you gentlemen down here?
Uh, now, what do you
grow? You grow cotton?
Sugar.
Sugar... Sugar.
Careful, mon cher, you're
beginning to frighten the man.
Um...
So, I look at my daughter's
tear-stained face
and I say to her, "Maggie,
that's why your daddy
sells tractors."
International Harvester Farmall.
Go ahead and take that.
Might come in handy.
Salesman:
So
I am talking about gas-powered,
open-geared beast of burden.
Ooh-la-la.
This is fancy, right here.
Uh, just to be clear
here, gents, we...
We are here to talk
about, uh, farm equipment.
Am I right? Mm.
And a streamline
tractor, you know,
not only gonna
increase your harvest,
but it's gonna keep
your child from tears.
Oh, thank y-you.
You, uh, on your sleeve...
Whenever you're ready, Louis.
I knew it. I knew you...
Aah!
What the fuck?
The neck. Bite
the neck, Louis.
No...
No, you don't bite the blood.
You suck it.
Yes, yes, that's
better.
Good.
For our next carpet,
I'm thinking Persian.
Arabesque maybe.
Certainly need a more efficient
way of ridding the waste.
Ugh.
The first time is
the most unwieldy.
Soon you'll be a natural.
You'll come to enjoy it, its
variations, little surprises.
I-I gotta go home.
This is your home
now, Louis. Breathe.
I... I gotta collect
money from the cribs.
I have all the money
we need. Breathe.
I have to go see Grace and Paul.
Oh, dear. You ain't
fuckin' hearin' me!
I... I need to go home.
You're going to find
that very difficult.
Hey!
What the hell?
Hey, now.
That's coming out of my pay.
Lord Jesus!
Lemme in!
Let me in, God damn it!
Open the fucking door!
The sun gives life
to everything but us.
I should have taught you that.
The life of a vampire
has its challenges
and its rewards...
but I think New Orleans,
with its music, culture,
cuisine, shipping
yards, conventioneers,
thrill-seeking tourists
far-flung from their homes,
the laissez-faire attitude
of the local police force
oh, yes...
the perfect setting
for a vampire home...
a
vampire romance.
I ain't sleepin' in there.
We'll get you your
own soon enough.
You've had a long life, Louis,
and such an
extraordinary one ahead.
Have a rest.
It's okay.
You can be on top.
Helluva bender.
He rushed me headlong
through the encounter
as if it were something
to put behind us.
Death, rebirth,
coming out, homicide,
too many firsts for one night.
Coming out?
You robbed a daughter of her
father, maybe a pet pony.
How's sexuality play in that?
It's a complicated
question, Daniel,
and we shouldn't conflate it
with the salesman's death.
Humor me.
To satisfy your fixation,
being transformed by Lestat,
being desired by him,
bedding down with him
was an overture of sorts
to that side of my nature.
To the shame of queer
theorists everywhere.
I got in that coffin
on my own free will.
In the quiet dark,
we were equals.
White master, Black student,
but equal in the quiet dark.
Provocation.
Is this the primary
tool one walks away with
after downloading
your Internet class?
Butler #1: Rabbit, three
ways, and Vulpes rueppellii,
or Ruppell's sand fox.
Back to the salesman for a sec.
Clearly, you were
haunted by it, the...
The taste of his blood in
the back of your throat,
up in your gums.
Let me ask you, Daniel,
do you contemplate the life of
the rabbit before you cut it?
Or do you simply cut?
Mmm.
Vampires are killers,
apex predators whose
all-seeing eyes
were meant to give
them detachment,
the ability to see a human
life in its entirety,
not with any mawkish sorrow,
but with the
thrilling satisfaction
of being the end of that life
and having a hand
in the divine plan.
Don't expect every reader
to swallow that one.
That's the purpose.
Our book must be a warning
as much as anything.
It was the right
line of questioning.
I was haunted by the salesman,
and as a fledgling vampire,
I did not readily
take to killing.
When I first started learning
English, I abhorred it.
Every word felt like a doorknob
falling out of my mouth.
Chapeau is a hat,
étoile was a star...
Killin' folks ain't
a second language.
But when I started
dreaming in English,
that's when I embraced it.
And now, I have English
consonants to thank
for this astonishing jawline.
These are nightmares I'm
having, Lestat, not dreams.
Finn, how's your arm?
Is it healing properly?
You might need a proper
doctor, my friend.
Me arm's fine.
You let me know
if you need a doc.
There is something,
Mr. du Lac.
The new gaming house you're
fixing up for the alderman,
I want to manage it.
I'm good with people, and
I'm good with numbers.
Hmm...
I'll take it up with Fenwick.
Much obliged.
Mm-hmm.
He's lying, you know.
He'll figure I'm a bean counter.
No, he wants the job so
he can steal from you.
Overcharge for
drinks and women...
Not enough for you to notice,
but enough to make him
"good extra," he calls it.
And you know that 'cause you
got in his head just now?
Vampires can read
minds, mon cher.
Right.
And you gon' sit on
that skill for how long?
Hmm.
You gon' make me beg?
One might think the
ability to read a mind
a most useful gift, but, in
reality, it's quite mundane.
I forget I can do it most days.
Is that right?
Every human thought boils
down to three things...
"I want food," "I want
sex," "I want to go home."
You see that man right there?
I want you to peel
away every sound
until you find his heartbeat.
Now hold the heartbeat.
You hear his lungs
leaking and flooding air?
His mind is just
another bodily sound.
Panhandler: Day and a
half since my last meal.
Church says, "Pray about it."
The Lord can't make me no food.
"I want
food." Shall we?
Woman: It's not
cheating with a woman
because I can't get pregnant.
"I want sex."
Man: I'm gonna ditch this
town and be somebody.
That's not... Give it a moment.
Or I'll just go home.
Voilà.
Wait. I saw a little flash
just now of his house.
Yes.
You'll see, as your powers grow,
you can see their thoughts,
like a one-reeler almost.
Dull, monotonous picture shows.
It's a very distracting gift,
the petty musings of meat.
Peel back on me then.
What am I thinkin' right now?
You'll have to tell me yourself.
A sacrifice is made when
the Dark Gift is shared.
You can't read my mind anymore?
The architects of our
creation mean to humble us.
We're at the mercy of
the other's discretion.
Just like the meat.
Hmm.
You're not one of them
anymore, fledgling.
You chase after phantoms
of your former self.
I'll break you of it.
Louis: My unwillingness
to separate from humanity
was a constant struggle
in my vampiric existence.
I felt it was essential
to maintain ties.
But it was getting
more difficult.
The curtain goes up at eight.
We'll only be here an hour.
They'll seat us late, and
we'll miss Nora's entrance
with the Christmas tree.
You ain't gon' miss anything.
Look what the wind blew in.
Louis: Mama.
You remember Lestat.
Madame de Pointe du Lac,
all the kindness
for the invitation.
I don't remember
inviting him, but please,
take your overdressed
self and have a fine time.
I see you have a banjo
band in your front yard.
Mm-hmm.
Madame.
Louis.
Was that necessary?
Move half a mile away,
don't come see your
family for half a season.
Don't come
back fragile, son.
Haven't heard a
knock on my door.
It's a half-mile
both ways, Mama.
Hm.
Look at his nails.
He's getting his
fingernails done.
And the glasses?
Some fashion certain
men like him do.
Lord.
Eye doc says I gotta wear
them from now forward.
Sensitive eyes.
You seen Grace about?
Louis: You seen my
alligator, ma'am?
Seems I lost it
by the punchbowl.
Oh, been too long.
I know, I know.
Wait.
Oh, my.
You makin' me an
uncle right here?
Who told you? No one told me.
It was Levi. I could
tell by the look...
I ain't far enough
along. On your face.
He shouldn't be
telling anyone. And...
And what? And...
And what?
Gon' be twins.
You a fool doctor now?
Oh, I miss you, Louis.
Yeah.
You hearin' me?
Look at me, Louis.
Take them glasses off and
look at your baby sister.
Don't. Gimme those back.
Your eyes...
like a church window.
Same eyes, same me.
Different you.
Better you, I'd say.
You hide from me
this long again,
I'll hunt you down
and slap you sideways.
I got you something.
Oh, no, Louis.
What is this? I don't
need your money.
It ain't for you,
it's for the babies.
Stop it with the "babies".
One's gon' be plenty.
There's two of 'em.
Well.
This'll come in handy, then.
Levi ain't the
businessman you are.
So, how's it in the district?
Must be good if
this here's extra.
Oh.
Now, I-I know it's
hard to see it now,
but Mr. Fenwick
gon' have himself
the most profitable
sportin' house
this side of Basin Street.
The alderman
certainly thinks so,
but then you have to ask
yourself why he sent me.
New business, new partner.
No, sir, Mr. Carlo, I-I'd
do the same thing myself.
You got your own personal
attorney, do you, boy?
No, sir.
But then, I'm not
an alderman, am I?
No, you're his partner.
Hm.
These balconies, they have
to be decorative only.
Building codes allow those for
residents, not for business.
Well, that's only if
you call it a balcony.
What are you callin' it?
Fire escape.
That's clever, my boy.
That's very clever.
Right.
Dozen rooms, proper
acoustics for the musicians.
You know, good
for those waitin'.
Best to drown out the
business behind the walls.
Yes.
Oh, you really do have a mind
inside out head of yours,
don't you?
I-I know some of the
finishes seem penny heavy,
but it's the alderman's
name goin' out there,
so every detail has to
shout "exclusivity".
You're bright and
industrious, huh?
I trust you're overseeing all
stages of construction as well?
Yes, sir.
Fire escape.
Now, I must say, I
had my doubts, but
you really have earned your 15%.
You truly are an
exceptional Negro.
Thank you, sir. Mm-hmm.
Ah, "fire escape."
Louis: "Exceptional
Negro." Ah, yes.
"Thank you, sir."
It was the call and
response of my entire life.
I had let them talk to
me like that so long,
I stopped hearing it.
"Yes, sir."
"Of course, sir."
Subject, verb, agreement, "sir".
Smile, nod, "yes, sir."
They all came from the
same organ inside me...
An organ unknown to
science at the time.
Because what scientist would
look for an organ found only
in Black men who use
their weakness to rise?
But I wasn't a man anymore.
I was something else.
I had powers now and
decades of rage to process,
and it was both random
and unfortunate,
the man picked that night
to dabble in fuckery.
If not him, would have
been the next man.
Louis, my boy, j...
This was your man's
esquire, sent in his stead!
I was hungry. Stone's throw
from your place of business.
What were you thinking?
He disrespected me.
How did he do that?
He told me I did a good job.
You are a library of confusion.
There's some
things...
you don't get about
America, Lestat.
Yes, let's have this
conversation again.
Colored, white.
Creole, French.
Queer, half-queer,
mostly queer, what is it?
Non-discriminating.
Complicated situation
we got here's what I'm saying.
A couple
of parish priests
go missing, people say, "Fine.
Most likely kid-fiddlers."
But this, this was an
important man in town.
The police will be looking
for this man, fledgling.
That's why we got
this beast, yeah?
No, you need to show
restraint, fledgling!
Oh, you need to stop
using that word right now,
'cause it's soundin'
a little like "slave".
Don't say it.
Well, that's what
it fuckin' sound like.
It's what it feel
like sometimes.
And the carousel
comes around again.
Fuck you.
Lestat: I don't
like sleeping angry.
For the record, if
disrespect was done to you,
I would have killed him myself.
Well, what can I do
to make it up to you?
I wanna buy the
Fair Play Saloon.
That's ambitious.
If you don't wanna
help, I'll do it myself.
Ridiculous of you to mix
human and vampire business.
It always ends poorly.
But how can I stop you?
How can I say no to you?
Man: Sign here
and here and here.
Tom: Well, I do not see the
clause in this paperwork
wherein I continue to
eat, drink, and fornicate
on the house.
Louis?
You have my word, and my
word is thicker than paper...
Mm. Tom.
Louis: It was a grand and
loving gesture on Lestat's part.
That's a mighty tall ladder
you're climbin', Mr. du Lac.
And I was now the owner
of the brightest
club in the district.
My club, my rules.
I opened the doors to
anyone with money to burn.
I paid the staff better,
paid the band better,
all the while helping
those who had been with me
down the block to
better themselves.
Miss Williams. Mr. Du Lac.
And it was a pointless
point of pride
that I paid back every cent
I borrowed from Lestat.
It was everything I had
ever wanted or wished for.
And it doubled nicely as
a revolving door of prey.
You fellas know where I can
find the Fair Play Saloon?
You about five years late.
So how long are you in town for?
Man: Uh, yeah, I'm just...
From 1912 to 1917,
I made a mountain of money,
enough to retire and be
buried like a pharaoh.
But in the essential duties
of the executor in charge,
I had been most delinquent.
We named him Benjamin.
Benny.
Did you even meet the twins?
No, ma'am. Ma'am?
I look that old to you?
No, I mean, I haven't
had the pleasure
of meetin' more of the family.
I've been so busy with
work, and, you know...
Him?
You know my situation.
How are things with you and...
It's Lestat still, right?
Yes, it's Lestat. Shh!
Got some gumbo on
the stove still.
Tasted great this evening.
Let me fix you something.
I'm good.
Hold your nephew.
He's the quiet one, this one.
The other two...
the twins?
Lord, help us.
All right. Here it is.
Still warm.
Well?
No, please.
You look good.
You should stay the night.
I'm sure Mama would
love to see you.
Shh, shh.
Let's see if he goes
back down, let's see.
Levi: Honey, the twins
again!
Florence: Grace! Okay.
Let... Let me just see
what the hell is goin' on.
Oh, no, I... Shh.
I no longer kill.
My last victim was
in the year 2000.
Some Y2K disagreement?
I want our readers
to understand that.
Okay.
Did you eat the baby?
I sit here a master
of my instincts.
Mm-hmm.
And what about the
others out there?
Have they mastered theirs?
Just the opposite.
Most of them are
slaves to the blood,
exhausted from decades,
centuries of hiding,
giddy to increase their numbers.
Mm-hmm.
Two questions...
Did you eat the baby?
And is the pandemic the opening
they've been waiting for?
Pandemic, the unraveling of
geopolitical foundations.
And you know this how?
You guys have a thread on 8chan?
I hear them.
Our thoughts can travel
thousands of miles
to one another.
I can stand out on my
balcony, close my eyes,
and they're plotting
speeds to me.
One of them, a
brute in Madagascar,
called it "the
great conversion".
The great conversion?
Well, good luck with that,
because most people I know like
to play little ball
in the afternoon,
or maybe going
down to the beach,
catching a few rays.
Yes.
What on earth would
a meth-addicted son
of a coal miner in West
Virginia want with eternal life?
Did you eat the baby?
Or the Arab youth whose family
were wiped from existence...
Did you eat the baby?
By a Western drone?
No, I'm sure you're right.
Hello, Damek. Hey.
Mmm.
Mm-hmm.
He's American, Damek.
You like Dubai?
I haven't had the
time to sight-see.
Go to Kite Beach.
It's good.
Kites.
Mmm.
Thank you, Damek.
See you soon.
As I was saying,
I no longer kill.
You might have a
drinking problem.
Rashid!
The baby.
Grace: Benny? Benny!
Louis: I had him in my
arms...
and I was ready
to tear into him.
I'm never gon' get
control over it.
You've been skipping
meals lately.
Don't think I haven't noticed.
It was my nephew.
You have to stop
seeing them, Louis.
They'll grow fearful of you
if they haven't already.
I can't do it.
It's a rite of
passage for all of us.
If you love your family,
as I know you do,
spare them all the pain
that you are causing them.
I ain't never gon' have
a family of my own, am I?
No sons, no daughters.
I'm your family, Louis.
You should just throw
me in the incinerator
and make another one.
Hmm. And what a
waste that would be.
I have two centuries walked
this Earth and can report,
you have no twin.
No one as angry, as
stubborn, as unaccommodating,
as maddening... Sound
like trash to me.
As loving, as dedicated,
as thoughtful,
as imperfectly perfect
as you've become.
You're a challenge every
sunset, Saint Louis,
and I'd have it no other way.
Here's an idea...
Let's take a holiday.
What about Rome?
Rome? R-Rome, Italy?
Would you prefer
Rome, Wisconsin?
I can't just pick
up and go to Rome.
I got a business to run.
Leave the Azalea to the
capable hands of Miss Bricktop
and follow the Appian Way.
How you gon' get coffins
across the Atlantic?
It can be an inconvenience,
but not impossible, obviously.
Well, how do you get them
from ship to train to cab?
Ah, the changeovers can be
jarring, I'll give you that.
Well, maybe there's a deaf,
blind porter we can hire
and kill when we
get to the hotel.
Well, I had been
thinking the Inghilterra.
Imagine hunting
between the Caffe Greco
and the Spanish Steps.
But you've made
your point. Pity.
We'll just have to settle
for Rome coming to us.
Oh, another opera.
Not another opera.
Donizetti's comic
masterpiece, "Don Pasquale."
I was an acquaintance of
his, and I saw the premiere
at the Salle Ventadour
73 years ago,
and I remember it
like it was yesterday.
I almost ate my nephew, Lestat.
It's the soprano Sofia
Consoli's American debut,
her fifth stop in
a 22-city tour,
so the orchestra should
be in excellent form.
I have a private box,
and I had tuxedos made.
I've been neglectful
of our romance.
And a steadfast pupil
deserves a divine reward.
He had a way about him,
those first years, Lestat.
Preternaturally charming,
occasionally thoughtful.
He was my murderer, my mentor,
my lover, and my maker...
All of those things at once.
He didn't choose me
to be his doormat.
I knew he enjoyed it
when I fought back,
but there was present
a kind of worship on my part.
The earth beneath me
always felt liquid.
The status I enjoyed
in Storyville
did not extend itself to
the operators and patrons
of the French Opera House
on Bourbon and Toulouse.
We did what we always did
to avoid conflicts there.
I performed as his valet,
walked a pace behind him,
took his overcoat once
we found our seats,
remained standing in
the back of the box
until the lights went down,
and only joined next to him
once the overture had begun.
And again...
he had a way about him,
so that as I sat there
trying to practice restraint,
simmering in my indignation...
Lestat seized it as
opportunity to disarm me.
There is one thing
about being a vampire
that I most fear
above all else...
And that is loneliness.
You can't imagine
the emptiness...
A void stretching out
for decades at a time.
You take this feeling
away from me, Louis.
We must stay together
and take precaution
and never part.
How many of us are out there?
We can't be the only ones.
How many vampires?
Not many, I'm afraid.
Maybe 100,
101.
Louis: The touring
production of "Don Pasquale"
was a cheap affair,
but the soprano was everything
Lestat said she would be.
And music,
that was where Lestat
separated man from food.
Music pierced his damned soul.
And any human who were involved
with the creation of it
existed on an elevated
plane in his eyes.
I was moved to see he too
had his human attachments.
And this woman sang
for us, it seemed,
articulating the difficult love
we often had trouble
expressing ourselves.
There was one issue, however,
that threatened to pop the
bubble of our Italian holiday,
and that was the
tenor playing Ernesto.
To be kind, he did not live
in the soprano's
vocal stratosphere...
Ah.
And Lestat was unamused.
I don't understand
how someone like that
can make it onto a stage.
I understand they're
a rogue company,
but are they pulling talent
from roadside gas stations?
It didn't help matters that
the majority of the audience
didn't seem to notice.
And so Lestat oscillated his
disdain between the tenor
and the witless swamp-dwellers
in the seats below.
The curtain fell
like a guillotine,
and Lestat leapt to his
feet in mock appreciation,
which could mean
only one thing...
The hunt was on.
I stood in the lobby bar,
nursing my complicity,
as rounds were bought
and fake praise
was lavished upon the mark.
And I was surprised by a wave
of nausea coming over me.
Here I was, six years his pupil,
and it was no different
than the tractor salesman.
This poor soul
was someone's son,
someone's brother,
and he was to be butchered.
For what?
An offending note?
Wrong.
He sat the tenor down, opened
up the score in front of him
and sang as it was written.
And you could see all the
doubts the young man had
about his art,
about himself, exposed on
his nodding, agreeable face.
Lestat removed a lifetime
of confidence, of joy,
in less than half an hour.
So no more of your sound
can pollute this world.
Why do you do this,
Lestat?
Well, I like to
do it. I enjoy it.
Well, I don't.
You don't have to humiliate him.
Well, I don't say that
you have to enjoy it!
Kill them swiftly if
you have to, but do it!
Embrace what you are!
You are a killer, Louis!
Come now, love,
let's get you to
the couch to die.
Louis: I was in denial.
For in bringing death,
Lestat was an artist.
He had cut the man tenderly so
that he could not call for help,
but also so that his death
was slow, meditative.
And I felt a charge
witnessing it.
I listened to his
thoughts as Lestat drank,
and this time, they
came with vision.
I could see his life
as he remembered it.
Scenes from an
Italian childhood...
The Easter pageant in
a mountain village,
an afternoon with his
father on the sea,
watching the fishing boats
slowly encircle
a school of tuna.
Something about a wet piece
of bread in his pocket.
If you'd listen to me, if you
finally submit to your nature,
you will be filled, Louis,
with all the life you can hold.
You will see death
in all its beauty,
life as it is only known at
the very point of the death.
You alone, of all creatures,
can see death with
that impunity.
You alone, under
the rising moon...
Can strike like the hand of God.
And I'll say it for a
third time and no more...
He had a way about him.
And I was still very
much under his power.
We would drain the tenor
for hours that night.
Lestat completely enthralled.
Myself, pretending to be.
Afraid to disappoint.
Lestat was wrong.
I was never going
to be a natural.
I was never going to
savor the aftertaste.
I was a shame-ridden
second, a... a fumbling,
despondent killer,
a botched vampire.
I try to have a human
dish once a week
to maintain the thread.
There was an offhanded remark in
your memoir about this dessert.
I hope you don't mind.
What does this
taste like to you?
Like almost all human food...
Like paste,
chalk,
like soap.
This is the dessert I had after
I proposed to my first wife,
after I got my shit together.
We were in Paris.
Little cafe on the
Rue Servandoni,
up the way from Saint-Sulpice.
I know it. It's a
beautiful street.
Alice...
Half of her eyebrow
was blond, like a mutt.
She always dyed
it back to brown.
I liked it when
she left it alone.
Louis: Do you ever
think that we...
That's to say, our kind...
Were put on earth
for a larger purpose?
How was your night? Fine.
Jonah: So you a big-shot
businessman now.
I like a little variety.
The devil walks at night.
Louis: Is my very nature
that of the devil?
Two vampires walk into a church.
That's where we left off.
Blissing out...
post priest-icide.
Jones: Episode 2, "After the
Phantoms of Your Former Self"...
It is Louis de Pointe du
Lac as fledgling vampire
and Lestat as his
master teacher.
Are you hungry, Louis? Uh-huh.
Louis trying to figure out
what this new world is,
what the burdens are, and
how to use these powers.
His mind is just
another bodily sound.
Day and a half
since my last meal.
Part of the tension
here becomes about
"I am a different species
than these people."
So if you're a vampire
and you're a Black man
and people don't know
that you're a vampire,
you are going to run up
against a couple of things.
Bright and industrious, huh?
And you don't have to put up
with that bullshit anymore.
Louis: It was both
random and unfortunate
the man picked that night
to dabble in fuckery.
But you can't be dropping
bodies left and right.
What were you thinking?
He disrespected me.
How did he do that?
He told me I did a good job.
You are a
library of confusion.
We get to have a little
fun with race and sexuality
and then the burdens
of an interracial,
interspecies relationship.
You need to show
restraint, fledgling!
You need to stop using
that word right now,
'cause it sounded a little
like "slave." Don't say it.
Well, that's what it
fuckin' sound like.
And also the professor-student
relationship. It's messy.
But something about
taking of human life
is not sitting
well with Louis...
and the complications of trying
to have a foot in both worlds...
I... I need to go home.
Sort of reminds him
of what a monster he
thinks he's become.
The killing of the
tenor is, I think,
the final sort of
straw that, like,
"this is never gonna
be comfortable for me."
"I'm never gonna be a
vampire like Lestat."
Lestat: If you finally
submit to your nature,
you'll see death
in all its beauty.
While he is at his
most articulate
about what this is about,
Louis fully admits it...
"I'm not buying it."
But he was still so under
the throes of Lestat,
so he fakes it.
Louis: Afraid to disappoint.
Jones: The idea of
being a botched vampire,
that slowly begins to kind of
open up something inside Molloy.
I was never going to
savor the aftertaste.
I was a shame-ridden second,
a fumbling, despondent killer.
Like any good journalist,
he's sniffing around
for what the armor is,
but there are things
in this story where
you sit back and say,
"Hmm, vampires...
They're just like us."
This is the dessert I had after
I proposed to my first wife.
He starts opening
up a little bit,
catches himself and
turns off the interview
and I think begins to, you
know, start that road down
"how am I gonna
empathize against
this predator that feasts
on people like me?"