TV Database Castlevania (2017)

And so we once again return to Castle Castlevania, beginning with a flashback that reminds us just how delusional humanity can be, be it the 15th century or the 21st. We get a look at our sympathetic villain's generals and allies, setting up the battle to come. You get the usual humans among them calling out how humanity is as bad as the real monsters.

It's all pretty standard antihero horror stuff, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Let's see how things unfold from here.

Camilla just being absolutely done with Dracula's so-called "war council." She predated Bram Stoker's Dracula, making her his senior, so she should've asked him to "Sit down, boy." Plus, she's apparently harder to kill than Drac because you'd need to dispose of her ashes that's scattered over rivers.

Speaking of which, running water being a weakness of vampires is dumb af, just one level above the fact that vampires need to be invited in. There have been far cornier weaknesses though, like the fact that if you scatter rice grains on the ground, they have to count them or something. Guess we know where the idea of Count von Count came from. These weaknesses would have made Buffy a much more boring show that even Whedon couldn't salvage with his toxicity.

We also get into one of those sermons here on how Dracula might have done some good for the world if his wife didn't get burned at the stake by religious zealots. Cue Livia Soprano, "Oh, poor you."

Gotta be honest, I wasn't really engaged by this series for a long time, ever since season 1. There's always a veneer of hackneyed pastiche when it comes to Castlevania the anime, and it's especially hard to get invested if you haven't played the games or even like them. Really didn't help that most of the backstory given so far were either through expositions or very generic fantasy tropes, like the martyr embodying his pain as part of his identity in Isaac, or the outcast who resents humanity like Hector. It's all very broad stereotypes that lacked the kind of depth to make me care.

This episode though delved a little deeper into Hector's relationship with animals and how he came into necromancy, and how his family might have reacted when they brought a walking corpse of a dog into the home. Spoiler: not well. It's a very short flashback, but it did a better job of fleshing him out than the endless expositions in past episodes with him moping around like a rejected Twilight extra.

And for our good guys team, we got to finally see a closer look at the Belmont legacy and their collection of vampire hunting tools, or what Alucard described as "a museum dedicated to the extermination of my people." Yeah, sorry, anime, that thin attempt to parallel vampire-hunting with the Holocaust isn't gonna fly because Jews don't eat people. That said, I appreciate that the trio shared a moment of levity before that cringe-inducing line:

Alucard: "I'm disturbed to find that I have more of a childhood than you did."
Belmont: "And your dad's f-ing Dracula."

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It served as a simple but effective way to just bond them together through the absurdity of the situation despite the grim situations of the players involved.

One of the ongoing issues with Castlevania's Netflix format has always been its slow-burn pacing, often feeling like it’s building tension just for the sake of the binge. But with “Broken Mast”, that long fuse finally starts to ignite something worthwhile. Rather than just leaning on mood and brooding aesthetics, the episode sinks its teeth into what matters most—character.

On the villains’ side, the cracks are spreading. We get a far more intimate look into what drives Godbrand, and spoiler alert—it’s not just bloodlust, it’s bloody performance art. The guy’s not in it for politics or strategy. He’s here for carnage, and that feral, unfiltered energy finally gives him some real dimension.

But the episode’s real highlight is the deepening bond between Dracula and one of his inner circle—a moment of rare emotional honesty that reframes one character's loyalty as more than mere servitude. It’s loyalty as faith. Devotion with knives behind it. That kind of emotional weight lands with force, and it makes you realize just how tragic this war is becoming from within.

Carmilla, ever the snake in silk, continues her masterclass in manipulation, whispering poison into the ears of the gullible. Her influence is spreading, her goals becoming clearer, and “Broken Mast” subtly shows how easily a tightly-run ship can begin to rot from the inside.

Meanwhile, back with the so-called “good guys,” we’re treated to another warm, almost tender moment between Trevor and Sypha. It’s the kind of levity this show sorely needs—just enough light to remind you these people are more than pawns in a nihilist’s game. And the little tease of their dynamic evolution? Genuinely charming.

Final Verdict:
“Broken Mast” isn’t about action. It’s about tension—emotional, ideological, and personal. The episode quietly tightens the screws on both sides of the war, building stakes not through blood, but through relationships under siege. It’s smart, layered, and finally lets the characters breathe beneath all the gothic doom.

We’re still sailing in slow waters, but now the storm on the horizon feels earned.

As the pieces move into place for the inevitable clash between the Belmont trio and Dracula’s undead circus, the show leans hard into what it does best: letting its characters simmer in their own dysfunction. This episode plays out less like a standard fantasy buildup and more like a slow, cerebral unspooling of egos, regrets, and manipulative power plays.

On the vampire side, Carmilla continues her hostile takeover of Dracula’s war council with all the subtlety of a guillotine. She delivers a venomous monologue about the "children and animals" surrounding her—while oblivious to the fact she’s being played just as much as she’s playing Hector. The irony’s so thick you could impale it on a stake. Poor Hector, still wide-eyed and drooling, stumbles deeper into her web, not realizing he’s less of a co-conspirator and more of a chew toy.

Meanwhile, the Belmont estate is where the real character work’s happening. Sypha, having graduated from magic-wielding badass to intellectual powerhouse, digs through dusty tomes and philosophical quandaries while volleying sharp dialogue with Alucard. The highlight? Her absolutely blistering takedown of his emotional constipation—calling him a literal angry teenager in an adult’s body. Sypha, please. Leave some ego for the funeral.

And that’s where the real contrast lands. Sypha engages with her companions through empathy and growth; Carmilla claws her way forward with contempt and manipulation. One is a builder, the other a usurper—and I know whom I'm rooting for. Certainly not the one with the "step on me" vibe.

As for Dracula? The man is a husk. He’s done. Checked out. Dead-eyed and soul-deep tired of this world. A flashback to his former brutality only underlines how far he’s sunk from passionate vengeance to passive nihilism. It’s no longer about retribution—it’s about flipping the table just to stop hearing humans talk.

"Last Spell" proves again that Castlevania isn’t just a video game adaptation—it’s a chessboard of broken people. No fight scenes, no flashy boss battles—just psychological warfare, rotting trust, and characters trying (and failing) to save themselves from themselves.

"When you get back to whatever steaming underworld shithole you came from, you tell them there are still Belmonts up here." - Trevor Belmont

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Now this is more like it.

After a stretch of lore-building and philosophical moping, "The River" finally kicks the door down and drags us into the thick of battle. Trevor Belmont, now officially done playing support mage for Alucard and Sypha’s cerebral gymnastics, goes full video game protagonist and starts soloing night creatures like it’s Castlevania III: Trevor’s Revenge. Between the Karasuman boss fight and a Nosferatu Zodd-wannabe that eats it in spectacular Belmont fashion, the combat is fluid, brutal, and gleefully stylized. The Morning Star whip earns its paycheck here—coiling, crackling, and tearing its way through the undead with every holy-lit swing. It's a hell of a show.

Trevor even gets his moment of clarity. With a nudge from Alucard (“you’re either the last son of a warrior dynasty or a lucky drunk”), he finally steps up as the leader we knew was hiding under that rugged sarcasm and broken nose. About damn time.

But the real flexer here is Sypha. Once again proving that the most powerful character in the room is the one who thinks, she manages to outwit both the vampire war machine and the ancient demonic architecture that is Dracula’s mobile castle. The way she bends the very laws of physics to derail Carmilla’s plan? Pure sorcery. Literal and metaphorical.

Speaking of Carmilla—she could have been intriguing. A cold, calculating vampire general with a long view of conquest? That had potential. But instead, she delivers the same smug, misandrist drivel you could find in any second-rate girlboss Twitter thread. Her army, all fashionably gaunt and presumably estrogen-powered, is basically the Styrian Spice Girls: blood, boots, and betrayal. It’s less "feminist power fantasy" and more "PowerPoint presentation of trope fatigue."

Still, with Dracula’s forces gutted and our trio finally bringing the fight to his doorstep, the table is set for an epic showdown. The pacing is tight, the action hits hard, and the stakes are personal. Even if the episode takes a brief detour through Carmilla’s Tumblr manifesto, “The River” serves up the kind of blood-soaked theatrics fans signed up for.

Call it the calm before the storm. If calm means a whipped-to-death demon lord and a castle crash landing.

"My boy. I'm... I'm killing my boy. Lisa... I'm killing her boy."

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This is it. The crescendo the series has been building toward, and unlike so many shows that flinch or fumble at the finish line, Castlevania sticks the landing with a flourish and a gut punch.

“For Love” is an episode that never pauses, never fumbles, and never wastes a single frame. The pacing is relentless, but not rushed—each scene flows naturally into the next, every moment either propelling the battle forward or deepening the characters at its heart. It’s the kind of episode that rewards every ounce of patience you’ve given the series thus far. The payoff isn’t just visual—it’s emotional, mythic, operatic.

The action? Absolutely electric. Watching the Belmont trio in perfect sync, their skills sharpened by fire and purpose, is like witnessing a symphony of violence and magic. Trevor’s brutal efficiency, Alucard’s elegance and fury, and Sypha’s impossibly fluid spellwork (seriously, the way she bends her magic like a painter with a brush?) combine to make every fight feel like a masterpiece of animated choreography. And it never feels like empty spectacle. These aren’t just fight scenes—they’re character studies in motion. Every strike, dodge, and spell says something about who these people are and how much they’ve grown together. Sypha bracing herself on Trevor as they push back against a literal giant fireball (framed in such a way that's obviously meant to convey how their trusted relationship had grown), Alucard acting as vanguard with sword in hand pushing ahead. It’s not just strategy—it’s trust, love, and desperation visualized in perfect harmony. These three don’t just fight together. They are together. A family forged in fire.

The battles themselves unfold like stages in a final boss fight—each confrontation more intense than the last. It’s a smart nod to the show’s video game roots, but done with grace and cinematic flair. This is how you adapt a game—not by mimicking its mechanics, but by capturing its soul.

Dracula himself is a revelation here. This isn’t a cartoon villain twirling his mustache. This is a godlike figure whose grief curdled into apocalyptic rage—finally confronting not just his son, but his own ruin. His presence commands dread, but also, heartbreak. And that’s where “For Love” transcends genre.

Because at its core, this episode isn’t just about bloodshed. It’s about loss. About how love, when corrupted by sorrow, can destroy everything. Dracula and Isaac. Isaac and his master. Alucard and the father he barely got to know. Every character is fighting for love, or in its memory. The show doesn’t glorify the final clash—it mourns it. Even the battle itself, for all its beauty and brutality, is framed not as heroic victory, but as tragedy delayed too long.

And then there’s the final moment, the one where Dracula’s rage melts away into a father’s remorse. It's intimate, painful, and perfectly executed—proof that even in a series soaked in blood, it's the emotional wounds that linger deepest.

Yes, you could argue that the road to this moment dragged a bit—some earlier episodes might’ve padded the journey. But when a destination is this powerful, that’s easy to forgive.

“For Love” is more than just the best episode of Castlevania. It’s a masterclass in how to weave action, emotion, and character into something unforgettable. Not just a fight for survival. A fight for love—in all its twisted, beautiful, and tragic forms.

After the chaotic, all-out boss fight in the previous episode, "End Times" shifts gears and lets the dust settle with a slower, more contemplative tone. It’s the kind of episode that knows the battle’s over but the scars are still fresh, and everyone’s trying to figure out what the hell comes next.

As a finale to the Dracula arc, it’s… decent. Not mind-blowing, not revolutionary, but solid. The emotional closure checks the boxes—haunting, tragic, and just sentimental enough to feel like a proper sendoff. It does follow a bit of a template: big bad defeated, heroes split up, world realigns, threads left dangling for next season. You’ve seen it before, but hey—if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?

Alucard gets the standout arc here, wrapping up his journey with some genuinely moving moments. His farewell with Trevor walks the perfect line between sincere and sarcastic—Alucard flipping Trevor off as a final goodbye felt more true to their bond than any teary hug ever could. Now the real intrigue is what he does with Dracula’s legacy. He’s got the castle, the knowledge, and the emotional trauma to do something major… or totally wreck himself in the process.

Trevor and Sypha also get a satisfying conclusion that thankfully avoids dipping into the modern Hollywood swamp of “washed-up man gets schooled by quirky flawless girlboss.” The dynamic plays with those tropes but never commits to them, so I don't mind it too much. Their chemistry is charming without getting syrupy, and their future adventures feel earned, not forced.

On the other side, Isaac’s subplot still feels like the weak link. His arc gets another boost of motivation with some cartoonishly evil humans thrown his way, and yeah—it’s kind of lazy. We get it, people suck. But reducing complex hatred to “look, slavers!” is pretty thin. There was an opportunity to push deeper into his psyche, and instead it’s just more fuel for his vengeance bonfire.

Overall, “End Times” does what it needs to. It puts a bow on a major storyline while lighting fuses for the next chapter. It’s not flawless, and some beats feel a bit too scripted, but there’s enough weight in the character work and thematic resonance to make it land.