Half Bad: The Bastard Son & The Devil Himself
Image Credit Parisa Tag. Copyright © 2021 Netflix, Inc. |
Joe Barton (creator)
Jay Lycurgo, Nadia Parkes, Emilien Vekemans (cast)
Content warning: Gore, blood, violence
Image Courtesy Netflix, Inc. |
The Netflix young adult series, Half Bad: The Bastard Son & The Devil Himself is adapted from Sally Green’s young adult Half-Bad trilogy. The series has seemingly had absolutely no promotion at all. I’ve seen nary a mention of it. The only reason it came on my radar was because the series lead, Jay Lycurgo, also stars on DC’s Titans, and his tweet about the show popped up on my timeline. I was curious. I like his performance on Titans, and I’m always interested in checking out work featuring people of colour, especially in leading roles, be they in front of or behind the scenes. This show, unfortunately, isn’t as inclusive as I had hoped, though.
I have not read the book series and new nothing beyond the show’s poster, so I went into
the show with a completely blank slate. Thankfully the genre is something I don’t
mind—fantasy with superpowers. Half Bad: The Bastard Son & The Devil
Himself is set in a world where witches exist. There are the Fairborns, the
good ones, and the Bloods, the evil heart-eaters. The witch world is still
reeling from a devastating massacre that took place years ago when a powerful
Blood witch named Marcus Edge killed and stole many Fairborns’ powers. Now he’s
back picking off the Council of Fairborn Witches and he must be stopped.
We follow Nathan
Byrne (Lycurgo) who is the titular ‘half-bad’ as his mother was a Fairborn and
his father was Blood. He lives in a trailer with his grandmother and his half-sister
Jessica (Isobel Jesper Jones). The reason Nathan is our protagonist becomes
clear soon enough, but life is tough for him. The witch world is hidden from
regular humanity, and on top of that, the Byrne family is under particular
scrutiny from the Council because of Nathan’s heritage. And then Nathan is
taken away for training and the lines between who the real monsters are begin
to blur.
Before I mention
anything else about the show, I have to say that Half Bad: The Bastard Son
& The Devil Himself is ridiculously gory. My word, I looked away for
large portions of this show. It really didn’t need to be that heavy-handed. The
visual effects are great, maybe too good. The first two episodes weren’t that
bad, and then bam, something happens in episode three that’s enough to keep you
up at night. That was definitely not fun. There’s some cannibalism as well because as I said, some witches eat hearts. This show ensures you know what
that looks like. So gross. A couple of witches lose some appendages as part of a
ritual, and Nathan spends an inordinate amount of time, especially at the start
of the show, getting beaten by people for no good reason. It’s very frustrating
how much media loves to revel in characters of colour being brutalized—it doesn’t
matter if they heal quickly or not, I don’t see why it’s part of the story.
I considered giving up on this
show a few times, but I’m a completionist, and truth be told, the story did pique
my interest, which is why I did watch it through to the end of the season. The
problem is the show isn’t well-made. It’s choppy, full of shaky-cam and weird
cuts that undermine the actors’ performances. The actors do an acceptable job despite
it. Lycurgo, performing in his native British accent, brings a naturalism to his
acting, but there are some emotional moments where I felt he was too restrained.
Paul Ready, who plays the primary antagonist of the season Soul, is a scenery-chewing
baddie who goes all in with the fantasy aspect of the show. Isobel Jesper Jones is outstanding as the downright evil Jessica. She
is scary. You can’t not despite her character, which is remarkable work by the actor.
Nadia Parkes, who plays Nathan’s love interest, Annalise, is passable but doesn’t
set the stage alight. Emilien Vekemans, who makes up the trio of protagonists
as Gabriel, was occasionally monotonous but had a lot of presence on screen.
Image Credit: Teddy Cavendish. Copyright © 2021 Netflix, Inc. |
The story itself has plenty of twists and turns, but it’s also fraught and frenetic. There’s a disconnect between how the writers have developed a plot point and how the director has chosen to reach it—aka, lots of cuts and little sense of space and placement. It can be a disorienting watch. There are a few times in the show that leaves you wondering what the point of that particular scene was. For example, there’s a moment in Episode 7 when Nathan does something horrifying. But his actions have no consequences, except to leave the viewer wondering whether we should be rooting for this guy. There are several instances like this which appear to be more for shock value or to include a story beat than to develop any characterization.
Regarding
characterizations, they’re a bit all over the place for most of the characters.
Ceelia (Karen Connell) is a brutal and cruel trainer to Nathan—this apparently
comes from the books—but we’re supposed to cheer her on as Nathan’s mentor
later on. I like that Annalise isn’t just a love interest, and has her own arc.
And I like that Jessica is just plain evil. We could do with more unabashed
evil female characters in fiction. Gabriel is another character who is
interesting, but confusing. He’s in the same vein as Han Solo, the handsome dude who reluctantly helps the main heroes on their journey. But one
minute he’s trying to throw them under the bus and the next he refuses to leave
Nathan’s side. It's an unusual character arc, and it needed more development.
Lycurgo
and Parkes, despite being the main romantic pair in Half Bad: The Bastard
Son & The Devil Himself, have no chemistry. This is the problem with so
much media, especially YA. They connect in such a cliché way. She’s new at
school, they lock eyes and that’s it, we’re supposed to root for this couple.
As characters, they’re not unlikeable, but there’s nothing new about how their
romance is written. With Gabriel and Ceelia added to the mix, there are a few
more perspectives—Lycurgo has better chemistry with Connell, and off-the-charts
chemistry with Vekemans, so I wish those connections, platonic or not, were
explored more.
Another
romantic subplot does surface partway through the season, and it’s meant to be
cutesy but I couldn’t quite get over the fact that it’s between a 17-year-old
teenager and a much older person, someone who’s in their late twenties in the
least. The romance isn’t followed through but it still felt inappropriate. Apparently,
this secondary romance is part of the books as well.
Once the
main trio heads to Europe, the floodgates of lore open and threaten to drown you,
but it expands the themes of the story. Half Bad: The Bastard Son & The
Devil Himself is an attempted allegory of prejudice. In the books, the
Fairborns and Bloods are categorized as Whites and Black (yikes!), which thankfully
the Netflix series has updated. We learn as the season goes along that the
audience and characters’ understanding of who is the real villain is a fallacy.
The victor tells the tale and all that. But it’s hard to root for any side when
they’re all so bloodthirsty.
All the
characters are flawed, some irredeemably so, but I do want a conclusion to the
story. Half Bad: The Bastard Son & The Devil Himself takes several
liberties with the source material, so it’s not an exact replica of the books,
which intrigues me further. Can I sit through another eight episodes—if they
happened—full of this much gore? I don’t think so. But I’m itching to find out
what happens next. Maybe the books will have to do because I seriously doubt Netflix
will give this show another season.
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