Devil May Cry Returned Me To My High School Era 

Early 2010s was the era for the arrogant, hot-shot, slightly witty main male protagonist with a penchant for pissing everyone off.

That, or the super broody, very depressed hot dude who happens to be sporting a six-pack, and needs someone to obsess over.

Okay, maybe it's not era specific, but it was something I ate up in my high school years. Not that it was just me, okay? I also involved my sisters in it. In all seriousness, the fan-base is crazy. It's why the City of Bones series did so well that it became a whole universe set with prequels, sequels, and the whole galore. To this very day, Cassandra Clare is publishing novels in the same universe from yet another character's perspective. And people are eating it up.

As a literary connoisseur myself, I had thought that I had finally outgrown the genre as a whole. Or, at the very least, stopped rooting for the blatantly toxic male protagonist as he wooed the girl with barely any personality. However, when the moment came down to it, on a particularly hot, summer evening, sweltering in the apartment with nothing to do, I caved and started watching a new show on Netflix, Devil May Cry.

For those who haven't seen it or don't want to, Devil May Cry is about this sharp-tongued demonhunter, Dante, and cold-hearted soldier, Mary, who must navigate the tumultuous landscape of demons and humans.

I'll admit, I knew from the title exactly what kind of story I was getting into. What can I say? I was in the mood for some lowkey angst. Top that off with a main character named Dante with a dark backstory, who also happens to be a demonhunter? It was giving City of Bones without me having to re-read it.

It was also giving Legend vibes, with the female protagonist, the self-proclaimed Mary "Lady".

Not that this is a judgment on either text or show, but it does remind me of what kind of tropes work really well for this kind of genre, and what makes these narratives so goddamned addicting.

The Witty, Broken Main Love Male Interest

Like Jace from City of Bones, Dante works as a source of comedic relief, providing an air of lightheartedness to a plot that is otherwise super dark and hefty. He comes from a super troubled background, but the way that he jokes around reads as relatable and fun. More importantly, his snarkiness, which is so evidently a defence mechanism, makes him the perfect #fixme character.

With City of Bones, Clary and readers alike can use the space of his humour to explore the hidden, teddy bear side of him, one that he only reveals to his proclaimed soulmate. His humour also adds a bit more depth to an otherwise bland relationship. Conversations with Clary become a bit more exciting to read because there is some dynamic, some kind of rapport between the two of them that feels comparatively tangible (as opposed to the constant barrage of declarations of love as seen in relationships like Twilight with Edward and Bella, or in The Vampire Diaries with Elena, Damon and Stefan). The same can be said for Devil May Cry. The show starts off strong with the obnoxious, arrogant demonhunter who loves killing his foe with dramatic one-liners. He is exactly self-aware enough for it not to make viewers want to gauge their eyes out and demonstrably skilled enough in his physical abilities to somewhat earn his cockiness. A part of you can't help but instantly feel annoyed by his presence, but that's kind of the point. He's a slow burn.

The Entitled, Broody Female Counterpart

June Iparis from Legend by Marie Lu, I think, is a better parallel for Mary (Lady) in Devil May Cry mostly because the both of them start off as soldiers who are fully indoctrinated in the government's way of thinking (as opposed to Clary who is a regular girl with a knack for drawing). They have a very narrow field of vision when it comes to their goals and ambition, and both are driven by an unwavering righteousness for justice. Mary's trauma is established much earlier in the show, but just like June, it skews her understanding of right and wrong, and reinforces her hatred towards the opposing party (for, June, the poor people, and for Mary, demons). In June's case, her brother is killed, allegedly by one of the lower class people who breached their base. In Mary's case, her father turns into a demon and kills her mother and then dies in a fire. Both girls are orphaned. Both girls are left vulnerable to larger institutional forces to take advantage of them. Which, of course, is exactly what happens. Someone high up in the ranks basically adopts the girls and becomes her father figure. At the same time, he exploits her traumas, reinforcing the rhetoric that everyone from the other community is evil and must be eradicated. The big conflict, and major character arc, is that they have to learn to dismantle these prejudices because the love of their lives just so happens to be the people the girls were raised to hate.

Duh-duh-duh.

What makes characters like Mary so fun to follow is that her backstory helps add more nuance to the relationship with the main lead. Like, yeah, there is the whole cliche of being soulmates and fighting for love against all odds and whatever, but also-- and more importantly-- is that the romance itself forces her to confront and actively dismantle internalized and dangerous rhetoric. And yeah, I agree, intertwining her identity to her relationship with Dante is toxic as hell, but it's fun, and it's engaging, and it allows the story to expand outwards without having to delve into every single backstory. Although, it does that, too.

The FixMe Relationship

I'm not arguing that anything this show does is brand-new, and the fix-me romance plot is a tale as old as time. However, it works for in this case.

Although Mary starts off equally as annoying as Dante, her character becomes an easy counterbalance to his unseriousness. The writers lean hard into her broodiness and angst, and it's perfect because it clashes against Dante's hyper-exaggerated liveliness. The contrasting tones of both characters also help magnify each other's inner demons, shedding light on aspects of themselves that neither are quite ready to face. At the same time, they provide one another a refuge to access that part of themselves that they were neglecting.

For instance, as is explored in the second season, humour allows Dante to perceive, or at the very least, retell a traumatic experience in a much more tasteful way (for him), to say the least. In contrast, Mary retells the same experience in a more dramatic light, full of shadows and heavy with grief. On the surface, the two perspectives add an element of humour to the memory that they share. However, their differences also become a way for each to better understand parts of one another– Mary sees how sad Dante really is and how his long-lost brother's situation affects him. At the same time, Dante empowers Mary to see a softer side of the world, to allow herself grace and forgiveness.

When their stories converge, it also helps further the larger plot. On a much narrower scale, the differences between Mary and Dante reflect the omnipresence of oppressive regimes as it plays into their relationship. On the one hand, they are immediately drawn to one another, brought to closeness through their traumas as collateral to an already fucked up system; they see each other for what they are and also pose as a reflection of one another. On the other hand, their allegiances and upbringing create a literal, physical faultline between them. The way Mary understands the world is fundamentally different from Dante's; to belong to his world and vice versa, one must sacrifice everything that they know or believe in.

Doesn't help that both are stubborn as hell.

As a viewer, consciously, you're aware that the dialogue is cringey af, and most definitely written by a man. The fact that Mary decides she wants to take on the name "Lady" which Dante gave to her almost instantly after meeting him, a) makes absolutely no sense, b) made my blood boil, and c) is one example of faulty empowerment. But that's a different conversation. Despite being so obnoxious and over the top, you still can't help but want to follow their stories because underneath all that superficiality, there is genuine and intentional depth.

The Long Lost Brainwashed Brother & Politics

By following such a straightforward structure narratively, complete with the hero's journey, the romantic climax, and the presumed dead brother-who-is-actually-alive-but-living-in-the-demon-realm-and-is-brainwashed-by-the-evil-demon-who-killed-his-parents, plus the added plot-twist of Mary's dad, the show gives you every possible plot-twist and cliff-hanger that it can. Which, for such a short series, is the smartest move.

My favourite part, and I think the writers' too, is the relationship between Dante and Vergil. (Yes, the names are so on the nose, and it's intentional because the story is based on Dante's Divine Comedy.) Unlike City of Bones, which introduced the long-lost, half-demon brother, Sebastian, in like the fourth of fifth book, Vergil is not a creep who is into his half-sister. What makes the brother bond stand out is that they both are the consequence of different political ideologies. And, although the show poses one on the wrong side as opposed to the right side, the lines are blurred when Vergil makes his final decision.

Things happen super fast in this show, and sometimes I wish it'd slow down and give more time for some of the characters to develop, like the White Rabbit, for instance. And, now, Vergil. However, the pacing is easily forgiveable; the show's underlying exploration of current politics, examination of deeply complicated characters, all while having a blast animating over-the-top action sequences makes this show the perfect Friday night watch.

So before you deem this show cliche or juvenile or 'not your style,' give it a chance.

Who knows, you might decide that you like it, too.