“No Pain” Recap and Review: Spoilers Ahead

“No Pain.” The title of the third episode of AMC’s Interview with the Vampire takes from the dialogue in the theatre’s play, where Santiago (Ben Daniels) masquerading as Death repeats, “No pain. No Pain.” This title begins to feel fallacious as we move through emotional, evocative, and heart-wrenching scenes touching on the characters’ trauma.

Before it delves into the serious scenes, we’re brought to a new location in Dubai outside of the penthouse, panning over to our journalist, Daniel Molloy (Eric Bogosian), dining in a restaurant, huddled over his notes. Presented with his meal, a plate of flailing fish reminiscent of the squirming fox on Louis’ plate in episode two of season one, Daniel hands the plate back, saying he’s “partial to non-wriggling items.” As he does so, we’re introduced to a new player, Raglan James (Justin Kirk).

Interview with the Vampire is part of AMC’s Immortal Universe, so it is unsurprising that we’re seeing pieces of the rest of Anne Rice’s universe weaved into the show. However, the scene and remaining scenes throughout the episode between Daniel and this agent feel a little shoehorned in and disrupt the episode’s flow. 

Despite this, the rest of the episode fits well together. With Louis asleep at the beginning of the episode, Armand and Daniel dip into their own conversation. Armand starts by apologizing for Louis’ previous behavior in the antecedent episode. It contrasts with Armand’s words in episode one, where he says, “We can have him saying what happened next,” leaving the audience to wonder if this is a play at good cop, bad cop to soften Daniel into staying in line and on task.  Armand offers a piece of his own story to answer one of Daniel’s questions, and is our first introduction to Armand’s background. 

Dropped into 1700s France, the show presents the Children of Darkness, where Armand acts as maître there as well, huddled underground, with just the warm light of candles and a burning pyre of flesh lighting the angles of Zaman’s face. We get to see this dustier Armand, echoes of his “gremlin” side. Here, Armand first recognizes Lestat’s (Sam Reid) presence, and we are shown the nature of Armand’s relationship with Lestat. 

Armand is fascinated and curious about how he lives out his vampirehood. Their relationship is antagonistic but also laced with amatory. There’s a pattern in Armand’s approaching of Lestat, one that we see repeated in Lestat’s courting of Louis. Armand follows Lestat, reveals his “tricks” and powers, and even beckons Lestat to “come to me.” It seems Armand also haunted Louis and Lestat’s relationship long before Louis stepped foot in Paris.

We also meet Nicolas de Lenfent (Joseph Potter), Lestat’s first love. In a show that considers the impact of race and class in the text, I took note that Nicolas questions Lestat on who Armand is with a racial slur, and in this same conversation, Lestat refers to Armand as a grub and strange. I’m interested in seeing how the show handles the racial dynamic between Lestat and Armand in future seasons. At this point, Armand might have years on Lestat and far more vampiric power, but similarly to Louis and Lestat, we can’t ignore how race will influence their relationship.

In the scene where Lestat returns to Armand after decimating his coven with the shattering of Christ on the cross and a vision of a new way of living, the lighting here is once again beautiful, using the flames as the significant source of light, casting beautiful and haunting shadows. From these shadows, Lestat appears like a ghost, as abruptly as Armand appeared to Lestat moments before, and they share a moment of intimacy.

The flashback ends with Lestat gifting the Théâtre des Vampires to Armand, a tryst in the box seats, and the knowledge that Lestat then leaves after learning the mind gift from Armand. The whole sequence demystifies Armand before his relationship with Louis to Daniel and audiences coming in fresh to the show.

It also creates a commonality between Armand and Louis to show that Lestat has also hurt him, albeit much differently, and that until he met Louis, he had closed off love. He tells Louis, “This is what frightened me most about you”—this new love he felt for him. His pupils brighten from a pale orange to a bright spark as he dwells on his lover, and Louis smiles softly at him in return. This subtle detail is a captivating way to show how Armand is still so affected by love for Louis.

The entire relationship between Louis and Armand builds beautifully in this episode. They push and pull. They revolve around each other, almost like a dance. It retains the noir feel from the previous episode, and Anderson does a spectacular job pulling on the same coy flirtations we saw back in the bayou with Jonah again here with Armand.  But Louis’ trauma still follows him, and it’s obvious he wants to explore this possibility with Armand, but not only does he have to do it on his terms, but it’s a heavy weight that threatens to crush him. 

We see this come to a head in the cafe scene where the two are enjoying a Parisian night out, engaging in a heartfelt, philosophical debate (Sartre himself pops up here, played by Damian Odess-Gillett) when Louis’ hallucination of Lestat appears again in his head playing the piano, and a new rendition of Come to Me called Come to Me Again written by the talented of Daniel Hart. This song and the rest of the scene underline how Louis feels about himself and just how deeply entrenched his trauma post-Lestat is like a thorny cord around his heart.  Anderson so effortlessly and smoothly portrays the gradual shift from the spirited conversation to Louis’ internalization of his own evil and goodness to Lestat creeping into his head, ending in Louis’ panicked outburst. He captures his rising panic down to the tremble in his voice before he explodes and rushes from the scene. What follows further highlights Anderson’s ability to capture Louis’ grief, panic, and internal conflict that finally bubbles up to the surface, spilling out. The quick cuts between Louis bludgeoning what he sees as a mocking vision of Lestat into a wall and Louis in his darkroom having a complete breakdown as he develops a picture of Armand that at first also appears to have Lestat haunting the photo emphasizes the extreme emotional turmoil he’s experiencing.

Meanwhile, Armand also wants this relationship with Louis, but he’s put in a delicate place as leader of the coven. He tries to draw Louis in while also holding a lot of his own insecurities. We can see these insecurities written out on the skillful level of microexpressions that Zaman portrays in his acting. He’s finally confronted and cornered by his coven to kill Louis, which he moves to do because there’s a sense of obligation he can’t turn away from.

The tensions build as Louis and Armand enter the tunnel under the theatre. The arrangement of Daniel Hart’s The Five Great Laws heightens the emotion, filling the scene with something sinister yet extremely vulnerable between them as they walk the passageway. There’s also an air of eroticism as Armand slides his fingers through Louis’ hair and over the back of his neck, his words coming out hoarse. Only a show like this can weave so many feelings that could feel contradicting but come together for these characters. We know that Armand is not going to harm Louis, and yet the audience is left holding their breath as Louis pleads not for his own life but for Claudia in what he believes is his final moments. It’s heartbreaking. 

That knot of anxiety and fear that Louis and the audience feel untangles at the scraping of a manhole. “You walked me home,” Louis says, realizing Armand has led him to his apartment. They stand face to face, and admissions from a place of vulnerability are said. And then…

The kiss!

This kiss has to be one of my favorites from the show. You can feel the mutual raw vulnerability and the emotions of fear and desire transfer into one another. Their playful push and pull culminate here as lighting casts them in a shadow that causes their silhouettes to morph into one. It’s the height of dark romance. Moments before, Armand was planning to kill Louis out of duty, and Armand chose love. And when Louis asks if he’s coming up, Armand chooses love again. There’s a shift in their dynamic as Armand offers Louis an illusion of power, asking if he’s being invited in when, earlier in the episode, Armand simply walks right into his apartment without asking. They both willingly offer pieces of themself. You can’t get more romantic than that.

But you can’t discuss this episode without discussing Claudia’s narrative unfolding here and Delainey Hayles’s performance. Claudia is getting closer to the coven, finally finding the camaraderie and community she’s been searching for in these vampires who are proud to be vampires. Some light hazing comes from the coven, including Armand, the maître himself, calling her Puce (flea). Claudia takes this in stride, resilient  in her desire to have this community. It’s a pattern that is common for Black women. There is this expectation to be resilient, to be strong, to brush off the things that happen to them and treatment from others, and to keep moving.

This is especially significant as this episode finally has Claudia being open about her trauma. In the first season, after her assault, when she returns to pick up Louis, she doesn’t have time to process her own traumatic experience. She’s immediately confronted with Lestat’s violence, both physically and verbally, and becomes a caregiver to Louis. In the second season, she’s taken on the role of leading her and Louis through Europe. There’s never room for her to be small, as she already has to demand her and her autonomy to be taken seriously. There’s no space for it. This rings true for a lot of Black women, being relied on to lead and play caregiver even after dealing with their own traumas while also simultaneously being denied autonomy and not being respected. This is a pattern that has extended since slavery.

So when Claudia is confronted with her trauma again towards the beginning of the episode as they plan to answer any questions on Bruce (Damon Daunno) being their maker, and Louis is prying for more details, no matter how relevant or important he feels it might be for him to have this information, she cages up and then purposely gives details that she’s aware will make Louis back off. However, we see that she is still very much affected. Hayles does a spectacular job of capturing Claudia’s vulnerability. She makes Claudia feel like the grown woman she is while capturing these youthful expressions of hurt. Her hand trembles in that scene as she dons a red lip, and even with this splash of rouge, she suddenly looks incredibly young. 

Later in the episode, Claudia has another moment of vulnerability as she and Louis lay in opposite coffins  and she shares more details about her traumatic experience with Bruce. Louis and the audience are invited to share the pain she’s been holding close and how it impacted her and continues to impact her as she saw a repeat of this cycle with Louis. Watching the emotion in Hayles’s face, the pain in her eyes, and the way her breath catches as she reveals what she experienced is heart-wrenching. Again, we circle back to the title “No pain,” realizing that this episode is really about how deeply entrenched the pain from Louis and Claudia’s past experiences lies within, haunting them.

In the last scene with Claudia’s induction into the coven, she’s read the five Great Laws and agrees to them, thrilled to finally be part of this new family. Then, the moment of horror crashes around her as the new play she will be starring in is revealed. She’s to play a little girl in a bright blue dress while two other vampires play her mother and governess.  Santiago says, “You’ll be their little birdie for the next fifty years.” There’s this horrible realization that in getting the community she’s been craving, she’s found herself in yet another cage. It’s so vivid on her face, and your heart truly sinks with hers.

Despite a couple of issues with the flow regarding the outside agent, the episode is beautifully done. Old haunts continue to follow our vampires even as they strive to move forward. Narratively, this episode truly shines in how we carry trauma and in how sometimes cycles we think we’ve escaped from repeat, and it sets us up for what’s to come. It’s sexy, it’s haunting, and it’s full of raw, heartfelt emotion. We can feel the rising action build in this episode and can expect a tipping point in the next few episodes.