Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Kaleena Rivera | TV | July 15, 2026
(major spoilers for episode six of The Vampire Lestat)
“Because, Louie, I’m a monster.”
Of course, if that was all Lestat (Sam Reid) amounted to, The Vampire Lestat wouldn’t be half as interesting to watch from week to week. This is where I must confess, however, that the antics of Rock Star Lestat had grown slightly monotonous by midseason, with just a few too many tour bus scenes, pop rock performances, and voice-overs emphasizing how his monstrousness is outweighed by his brat tendencies. But it’s never really possible to take eyes off of the vampiric enfant terrible, and the show recently got a necessary swift kick in the ass thanks to the awe-inspiring introduction of Akasha (Sheila Atim). But last Sunday’s episode, especially that jaw-dropping ending, serves as a reminder that even if you think you know what’s coming, you’re bound to be surprised.
If “vampire divorce court” —i.e. the fan-coined name for Louie (Jacob Anderson) and Lestat’s quotable legal squabble at the beginning of the season—was the entree for adoring fans of the central toxic relationship (I count myself among them), vampire reconciliation is the irresistible dessert that follows. I know nothing good could ever come from these two playing house again, but seeing them on a leisurely stroll before dinner with a, ahem, friend (followed by a post-dinner car discussion that could have been plucked right out of Modern Family: “[Daniel] has that ‘you think you’re better than me’ chip on him. And we are. It is exhausting to pretend otherwise”) felt borderline intoxicating.
Such is the magnetic chemistry between Anderson and Reid that when the night takes a turn (the first of several) and the two end up in a screaming match once it’s revealed that Sofia (Jennifer Ehle) is both Lestat’s biological mother and lover (“Are you hitting the same vagina you spent the first nine months of your mortal life in?”), I could only watch with the scandalized breathlessness that I imagine Love Island viewers must feel. It ends, of course, with the two men in one another’s arms before making their way to an ill-advised seance. Claudia’s (Delainey Hayles) scorn—no “Fraudia” here—was well placed, distilled as it was from the more nuanced assemblage of mortal emotions; Claudia in life had a temper, but Spirit Claudia is hell on wheels.
I typically loathe reviving the presence of dead characters through devices such as lookalikes or ghosts but the presence of Hayles in this season is entirely warranted. Sometimes an actor is just that good. Allowing Claudia the ‘last word’ brings some closure for Louis and Lestat, even if it meant hearing some cruel, and often accurate, things (“Oh yeah, that’s what I want to be, car fuel for your self-pity”). Despite Louis’ neediness and Lestat’s parasitic nature, disastrous as they are together, somehow there’s space for self-reflection in the wake of that supernatural confrontation:
Louis: “That moment when, uh—
Lestat: “‘What about the thing you should thank me for?’”
Louis: “Yeah. I didn’t know that was in me. Got some work to do on myself.”
Lestat: “It’s not something one did in the late 18th century, work on the self.”
Louis: “Or the early 20th.”
The pair quietly sitting on a park bench and pondering self-destructive behaviors and immortality feels like a culmination of the previous seasons. The monotony of Lestat’s rock star life and his near constant courting of disaster makes infinitely more sense when posed against questions like, “Why do I actively, manically pursue failure?” This is merely a vampire show for anyone who might want that surface-level reading but the scaffolding beneath rests heavily on trauma, obsession, codependence. It’s as human as anyone can possibly get, and why it was so easy to be distracted by fantasies of quiet nights together under a desert night sky long enough to not notice two assailants coming up from behind intent on taking off their heads.
One couldn’t have asked for a more shocking but delicious ending. If the intention was to kill them, that plan is almost certainly doomed to failure—for those who wish to theorize with me, the bar scene and a few throwaway lines from back in episode three offer a vital clue. Now I’m bereft because the finale is only days away, and I’m clueless as to how they’re going to fit Lestat et al., Akasha raining down hellfire, the Great Conversion rally, and something resembling a denouement in a scant hour (if there’s a cliffhanger, I’m going to be pissed). Although I have no idea how this will wrap up, the last two episodes of Interview with the Vampire was such a phenomenal one-two punch that showrunner Rolin Jones has more than earned my confidence. It was a slow-build up to get to this point and no doubt only shock and devastation lie ahead. I can’t wait.
The Vampire Lestat finale will air on AMC/stream on AMC+ this Sunday.
Kaleena Rivera is the TV Editor for Pajiba.
