What We Do in the Shadows’s Nandor the Relentless has historically had no trouble telling his familiar, bodyguard, fellow bloodsucker (if only briefly), and fandom ship-partner Guillermo de la Cruz what to do. Until the final go-round for WWDITS, that is, when the hierarchy of power between vampire and subordinate flips.
In the episode “Running a Train,” Guillermo (Harvey Guillén) fires Nandor, played by Kayvan Novak, from the financial firm where they’ve both, for nonsensical and highly entertaining reasons, working, and in “Nandor’s Army,” Nandor goes on a doom spiral to New Hampshire to recruit an army to seek revenge on Cannon Capital. The latter episode is part true-crime send-up as Guillermo and his roommates track Nandor down, part Apocalypse Now homage as Nandor entertainingly slips into Colonel Kurtz-like mania, and all heart as Nadja, Laszlo, and Colin Robinson worry about Nandor’s emotional state and Guillermo realizes how deeply he wounded his onetime master. Their confrontation and makeup is another essential chapter, Novak says, in the ongoing saga of their complicated relationship.
“Every interaction leaves you wanting another interaction to kind of manage over the last interaction, because they never end well, do they?” a laughing Novak says of the perpetual push-pull between Nandor and Guillermo. “He should have just left Guillermo to his own devices, but he can’t do that, because he needs Guillermo. He needs some kind of leverage.”
The episode is a showcase for Novak, whose dandy-ish Nandor has never quite figured out what kind of vampire he wants to be after a human life as a ruthless Ottoman warrior. Although it’s canon that Nandor sacked Nadja’s village before they were both undead, WWDITS has always played the stories of Nandor’s titular relentlessness as a bit of a joke — until the gotcha last act of “Nandor’s Army,” which reveals that his forceful and hawkish personality actually has drawn dozens of wayward humans looking for a cause to his side. The episode hinges on Novak’s ability to sell Nandor’s transformation from seemingly addled while lecturing a warehouse full of mannequins, to roguishly determined when commanding his followers to set Dartmouth University on fire. “It’s a bit of a stretch to imagine myself as a great leader, especially in that guise,” Novak says. “You do your rough approximation. You do what the script tells you to do. You hope the audience buys it, really. It’s all pretend at the end of the day.”
We’ve heard about Nandor’s military prowess for a while. Were you surprised that this episode let us see Nandor in his full glory as a commander?
It was definitely something I hadn’t played previously. I touched on it in the “Ghosts” episode in season two, which is one of my favorite episodes. That was a bit more low-key, whereas this is playing what you imagine Nandor would have been like when he was commanding an army in Al Quolanudar. Whether you could actually go from being that aggressive and that power hungry to being that goofy and clueless, I don’t know. I guess 700 years will do that to someone.
The “Ghosts” episode meant a lot to me as someone who realized I was forgetting my Farsi. I wrote a piece about it. Thank you for that episode.
I read that. That was a lovely piece. That was cool. It was so nice to be given a chance to do that, to play with the Farsi — even though he’s from Al Quolanudar, the audience knows he’s Iranian — and throw in a lot of slang that I picked up off my dad. The way that Nandor talks to his horse in Farsi is the way that my dad talks to his dog. And it’s lovely to do that in such a sweet and tender way, rather than do it in some kind of spy drama where you’re a baddie.
“Nandor’s Army” is very intentionally influenced by Apocalypse Now. Did you want to specifically evoke Marlon Brando and Colonel Kurtz through your performance?
That was in the script, and Yana Gorskaya, the director, she’s very clear about what she’s going for. The way they lit it was very inspired by the Brando scenes in Apocalypse Now. When they come and find me, and then we walk and we talk, that was all one long take. For me, that was like, ahhh. I said, “Can we break it up into two bits?” It was three or four pages. I’m like, Oh my God, is this a play now? But Yana was like, “Just do it. Shut the fuck up, you’ll be fine.” I did, and it was actually really enjoyable.
Most of the sets that we work on are so intricate, and this one was huge. It was a converted warehouse that they turned into that menswear factory. They build those sets for weeks and we just enjoy the spoils of all their efforts.
But you’re on a bit of a tightrope because you don’t want it to be too dramatic or heavy. Then you’re losing the joke or the lightness, and it doesn’t sit right in the show. You go with your instinct. I’ve played Nandor depressed and detached and despondent and pissed off, so you work with those emotions. I take the comedy seriously, but the drama, less so. You’ve always got the other vampires to fall back on. We’re each others’ protective belay.
There’s a scene where the other vampires are talking to the camera, and you’re in the background, shirtless, and trying to fight the mirror. What do you remember from that moment?
Yana got me to watch Apocalypse Now, which I had watched many times anyway. But that’s a pastiche of the Willard scene, when he’s in the hotel room drinking himself silly and punching the mirror, which Martin Sheen famously did and really cut his hand. Physical stuff, fighting-the-mirror act-y stuff, you start doing things, and then before you know it, you’re squatting and making sounds like a tropical bird. Because it’s in the background, you feel extra free. You feel pretty free on the set anyway, but this was a case of, just be stupid in the background. That’s kind of my specialty.
When you’re training Laszlo, Nadja, and Colin to join your army, you’re shouting military chants in Farsi. Did you advise on those translations?
Actually, I got my dad to translate a lot of the chants that were in Farsi, and then I threw in some lines. I threw in the odd reference to Iranian kebab, koobideh, somewhere. I don’t know what made it in. Expecting everyone to chant along was probably too much of an ask. But I was pretty diligent. My dad made me learn them and pronounce them correctly and say them with the right stresses. Thank you to him for that. I don’t think they would really do those kinds of chants there. The chants would be very different.
The chants would probably not mention koobideh … but maybe?
It’s worth fighting for a good koobideh.
How much improvising were you able to do this episode?
This episode probably allowed for the least amount of improv for me, because it was very much about Nandor’s current state of mind. I was there to give “This is where we’re at,” and then the other vamps could goof around. Someone throws in an aside or responds in a different way, but it’s all very quick. If you know your character, then you’re gonna imagine what the character might say at that point. It’s really about reacting. You want to be as lazy as possible with your approach to improv, and use it as icing to complement something else. [Slips into a genteel radio-broadcaster voice] Any of you budding improvisers out there, that’s my top tip. You can have that for nothing.
As you mentioned, Nandor’s been depressed, he’s been detached, he’s tried in a lot of ways to find self fulfillment: the cult, bringing back his wives, wanting to travel. Is there a core to Nandor that you think you’ve kept consistent with your performance, that allows for the writing of all of these different experiences?
Oh, I don’t know, because I’m playing a character that’s been written.
But your performance helps with that, to help build it from words on a page.
Sure. But ultimately, the essence of him comically is that he’s this great warrior who’s actually very pedantic and quite un-warrior-like in a lot of ways. He’s sexual, but he’s asexual. He’s commanding, but he’s also submissive. He’s all these contradictions, which adds to the comic trope of a delusional character. We can all see it; he can’t see it. He’s always reinventing himself. One second, he’s looking for a wife; the next second, he wants to be alone. One second, he wants to be a soldier, then another second, he wants to be a janitor. It’s like, make your fucking mind up — but we’re all like that as human beings. It’s relatable in that way. You don’t necessarily want to be like Nandor. I think people want to be more like Laszlo, because he’s so confident and sure of himself and cocky. He doesn’t bend for anyone, only his wife, whereas Nandor’s a bit more wishy-washy.
Of all Nandor’s various trying-to-find-himself experiences, is there one you liked playing the most?
I quite liked him stealing Guillermo’s boyfriend — I’m sorry, cloning his boyfriend. I liked playing him falling for someone, and then acting out on it, enjoying it, and gaslighting Guillermo. He’s like, “I’ve got Freddie and you’ve got Freddie. What’s the big deal? Chill out.” That was a really good episode because it was fucked up, but again, in quite a relatable way. Although I’ve never cloned anyone’s partner, and I’ve never been with a twin … or have I? Maybe I have, in Iceland, years ago. Only the one. [Laughs.]
In this episode we hear Nandor call into a radio show to request Simon and Garfunkel’s “Scarborough Fair,” and he also plays JoJo’s “Leave (Get Out)” to dismiss Guillermo. Do you have a third song you think Nandor would be listening to in the context of this episode?
Maybe “Bicycle Race” by Queen. It’s a mad choice that Nandor might make. It’s a great song.
