"10 Best 'what We Do In The Shadows' Episodes, Ranked" "the Trial"
Alright, fellow denizens of the night (or, you know, just regular people who enjoy a good laugh), gather 'round! We're about to dive into the gloriously absurd world of What We Do in the Shadows, a show that has single-handedly convinced me that living with ancient vampires is, surprisingly, a relatable struggle. From awkward house meetings to accidental Staten Island tours, these bloodsuckers are just like us… if "us" also had centuries of existential dread and an unhealthy obsession with capes.
Now, picking just ten episodes from this masterpiece is like choosing your favorite child if your children were all immortal, deeply flawed, and prone to bursting into song. But after much deliberation (and probably a few too many late-night rewatches fueled by absolutely no blood whatsoever), I've managed to cobble together a list that, in my humble, totally unbiased opinion, are the absolute cream of the vampiric crop. So, dim the lights, grab your garlic-free snacks, and prepare to revisit some truly iconic moments!
The Trial
Oh, The Trial. Where do we even begin? This episode is, in a word, perfection. It's the kind of episode that makes you wish you had a film degree just so you could deconstruct every single glorious frame. It’s a masterclass in escalating absurdity, a tightly wound ball of comedic genius that unfurls with the grace of a glitter bomb in a library. Seriously, if this episode were a meal, it would be a seven-course tasting menu of pure, unadulterated hilarity.
The premise is simple, yet brilliant: Guillermo, our favorite familiar-turned-vampire-hunter-in-training, has been accused of… well, of being a traitor. And who better to preside over such a grave accusation than the Vampire Council, a group of the oldest, most powerful, and frankly, most extra vampires in existence? Imagine a medieval court, but make it with more velvet, more dramatic pronouncements, and significantly more potential for dramatic throat-slitting. It’s basically the Supreme Court of the Supernatural, if they all had terrible fashion sense and even worse tempers.
The entire episode is built around this central trial, and let me tell you, it does not disappoint. We get to see our beloved vampires, Nandor, Laszlo, and Nadja, brought before their peers. They’re supposed to be defending Guillermo, but as always, their own eccentricities and ancient grudges get in the way. Nandor, bless his eternally confused heart, tries to be the stoic leader, but his attempts at solemnity are constantly undermined by his complete inability to grasp basic legal concepts. It’s like watching a Golden Retriever try to conduct a symphony – adorable, but ultimately chaotic.
And then there’s Laszlo. Oh, Laszlo. Our resident rapscallion and connoisseur of fine… well, everything. He’s supposed to be arguing for Guillermo’s innocence, but his arguments devolve into elaborate stories about his own past indiscretions, complete with wildly inaccurate historical anecdotes. You can practically see the gears grinding in his ancient brain as he attempts to connect his debauchery to Guillermo’s alleged crimes. It’s a beautiful mess, a testament to his unwavering commitment to being utterly Laszlo.
Nadja, of course, brings her fiery passion and unshakeable belief in her own righteousness to the proceedings. She’s convinced Guillermo is innocent, and her impassioned pleas are as much about protecting her familiar as they are about asserting her own formidable presence. Her interactions with the council members, particularly the utterly terrifying and hilariously unhinged Baron Afanas, are a highlight. You can just feel the ancient animosity radiating off them like heat from a particularly aggressive dragon.
But the true star of this episode, the one who shines brighter than a freshly polished silver stake, is Guillermo. He's trapped in this ridiculously formal, utterly unfair trial, and his quiet desperation is both heartbreaking and side-splittingly funny. He’s trying to explain his actions, his loyalties, his entire life story, to a room full of creatures who probably haven't had a new thought in centuries. His dry, understated reactions to the vampires' nonsensical arguments are a masterclass in comedic timing. You can practically hear him thinking, "Is this my life now? Am I going to be executed by a panel of dusty aristocrats for doing the right thing?"
The episode culminates in a way that is both shocking and, frankly, inevitable, given the inherent nature of these characters. It’s the kind of payoff that leaves you breathless, grinning like a maniac, and immediately wanting to rewatch it to catch all the subtle nuances you missed the first time around. The Trial isn't just a great episode of What We Do in the Shadows; it's a landmark achievement in comedic television. It’s a testament to the show’s brilliant writing, its stellar cast, and its uncanny ability to find the humor in the darkest, most absurd corners of the supernatural world. If you only ever watch one episode, make it this one. Your funny bone will thank you.
