From Dusk till Dawn

Halloween is coming! Why not watch a little snake/vampire gore? Every soul has a flavor. What’s yours? I’m thinking cherry lime.

Even the name of this ’90s iconic, supernatural crime drama leaves the audience intrigued and thirsty for more. Whether it’s beer, blood, or whiskey, fans can find something to their liking in this Netflix original, produced by the creator, Robert Rodriguez’ El Rey Network.

The series takes the audience farther into the world of La Culebra (the snake/vampire creatures of Mayan lore) than the film could, leading us through an underground maze built under a biker bar on the US/Mexican border, to a crime syndicate run by Culebra Lords, and finally to a realm of demons Hellbent on ruling the earth.

And that’s just in the first three episodes.

George Clooney and Quinten Tarentino in the original “From Dusk till Dawn”

The story has grown from the B-Movie-inspired original film, to encompass a rich variety of characters and backstories and a fascinating interpretation of Mayan Mythology. Like any vice: liquor, cards, women (or men), the series seduces its audience with dark, velvety badness. And everybody wants to be bad sometimes.

I was new to this series and to the original film, but I found myself quickly drawn into this world of dysfunction and destruction; the infamous Gecko brothers return to a life of crime. Richie and Seth (played by Zane Holtz and DJ Cotrona), together again, on the run to Mexico with a suitcase of bearer bonds, and a trail of bodies and angry women in the rearview. Their car is sexy and so are they in their implacable suits, and their great hair. They can’t go wrong until they do.

Richard Gecko

Richie and Seth quickly veer off the road as their plans unravel, much to Seth’s disappointment and frustration. Something is wrong with Richie, and Seth doesn’t know how to fix it. The audience peeks inside Richie’s visions of a beautiful dark-haired woman calling out to him to set her free, and wanders the path with him as he seeks his own destination, something different from his brother’s. And therein lies the conflict.

Throughout the series’ three seasons, the writers brilliantly thread the theme of family loyalty, the bond of blood, and the ties that for better or worse, bind us together. This theme not only runs through Seth and Richie’s stories, but through the Fuller family’s (a family they kidnap and take to Mexico in a desperate, improvisational move) as well — testing the bonds of family while revealing, and sometimes healing the pain and heartbreak that lies within. It’s a story we all know and relate to, and that is what keeps the overall story grounded in the midst of Culebras and demons.

Expertly acted, and brilliantly written, the story takes the audience places we’ve never even dreamed of, blurring the lines of right and wrong, and taking full advantage of the conflicts in human nature. Our anti-heroes, Seth and Richie, long for freedom while being chased by the police. They long for the acceptance and understanding of true love, but they shun anyone who comes close, and squabble amongst themselves.

The “Box Man” and “The Brains” of the operation.

In the first season, Richie is lured to the biker bar by Santanico Pandemonium but is drawn to Kate Fuller as he searches for answers to what drives him. Kate is fearful of her kidnappers, but drawn to them still, as evidenced by her near kiss with Richie at the bar. Seth is desperate to make the deal and leave the bar as soon as he can tear himself away from protecting Kate, and snarls at Richie for his obvious interest in her. The takeaway? Human beings are complicated. Life is messy, especially when you’re fighting off snake vampires and drunk bikers.

Season one ends with two of our characters making it out of the maze beneath the bar, but that doesn’t mean the others are done for. Everyone, it seems, has their own demons to face one way or another. And the ones with fangs are just the beginning.