The vampires of Staten Island have an interesting relationship with their human neighbors. The primary objective, of course, is to keep these dim-witted bags of decaying meat from figuring out what’s really going on at the mansion next door — although, at this point, I wonder if the humans would really care about the existence of vampires. (Maybe that’s the ultimate punchline to this series: all that effort, and in the end, it doesn’t matter because humans are too stupid and self-absorbed.) But, given the amount of time they’ve spent together since first attending that “Superb Owl” party a few seasons back, there seems to be some real affection there as well.
Guy’s-guy Laszlo is definitely fond of neighbor Sean: This week, he went to enormous lengths (dick pun unintentional, but I’m sure he’d appreciate it) to make Sean feel better about himself after he got fired from the TSA. Laszlo is very loyal to Sean, which is sweet, but there’s a deeper layer of guilt driving his sense of obligation, which Lazlo reveals when he says he feels bad about hypnotizing Sean so often that his brain has turned to oatmeal. What follows is a meta-joke in the spirit of the brain-wiping gag in “Sleep Hypnosis,” as Laszlo and Colin rent a space, set up an office, create props, and hire actors so they can bring Sean in for a fake interview with the railroad they’ve claimed to work at. The ruse is perfectly believable on Colin’s part. Part of why they picked “the railroad” is that it’s too boring of a job for anyone to ask any questions, and the look on Colin’s face holding his “I Heart Trains” coffee cup made me happy for our boring beige buddy. Laszlo, however, has a restless disposition befitting an aristocratic libertine type, and it’s hard to imagine him sitting at a desk all day. Even staging this elaborate facade isn’t stimulating enough for him: He has to add an element of danger by bringing his reanimated monster (and a cattle prod) into the scenario.
It’s a lot of effort to keep up a lie, and it begs the question why vampires would choose to work when they don’t have to. It’s never been mentioned directly, but I doubt the mansion still has a mortgage attached. And as long as there are humans walking around, they’ll have food to eat. But, as we’ve discussed here before, eternal life is boring, and you’ve got to fill those countless days somehow. In last week’s season premiere, Laszlo describes Nadja as having a “curiosity” towards the ways of humans — an endearing eccentricity, sort of like someone who captures insects and sets them outside rather than just squashing the little fuckers. But Nadja’s job at Cannon Capital is less an anthropological lark than a sign of her own evolving character. She’s always been cheerfully demented, but despite her protests, her quiet moves to support Guillermo’s career at Cannon is a big step up, considering that she couldn’t even remember his name until recently. That is until she decides Guillermo isn’t sufficiently grateful for her help. That’s when she hisses and bares her fangs and calls him an “insolent little shed-dweller” and makes him fear for his puny little life. Our girl hasn’t changed that much.
Guillermo hasn’t grown or changed as much as he thought, either. He’s simply replaced one tyrannical master with another. He seems to be realizing that this is the case — check out the face he makes when he catches himself calling Jordan “Master” — but stubbornly refuses to admit it. For Guillermo, working at Cannon is supposed to be about becoming his own human person, separate from the influence of the vampires, but his personality remains the same in this new environment and group of friends. He’s still nurturing, longs to be useful, and can’t stand to disappoint his friends. In the past, Guillermo has applied these proclivities to vampires, who are pretty much guaranteed not to notice, let alone appreciate. His new human master, Jordan, on the other hand, keeps rewarding him for his ruthlessness, a quality he learned from and is encouraged by the immortal vampires he used to work for. When Jordan tells him to fire Nandor, his former master, from his janitor position, he’s forced to choose a side. I can’t help but wonder who and what Guillermo would be if he wasn’t serving as a master. For now, he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to find out.
