This Lucifer review contains spoilers.
Lucifer: Season 1, Episode 11
“St. Lucifer” is a great example of an episode that’s comfortable in its own skin. Part guilty pleasure, part mystical, mythical character study, Lucifer is at its best when it revels in its cheekiness while still delving into the Devil’s details. Going into this episode, I immediately thought Lucifer’s not sleeping with Chloe would somehow be used as leverage against her. Instead, his turning down her advances awakens in him an unexpected selflessness that leaves him baffled but intrigued. For Lucifer Morningstar, being morally upright is a real rush. But instead of shunning good behavior, as one might expect, Lucifer instead doubles down on good deeds to finally give the Devil a good name. It’s a funny idea, one that naturally gets perverted by Lucifer, who always needs to make everything about him — even the concept of selflessness.
In the case of this week’s murder, well-regarded philanthropist Tim Dunlear has been slain. Hell-bent on demonstrating his own newfound altruism, Lucifer immediately takes it upon himself to host the foundation’s charity gala at Lux. Normally I’d argue that the procedural aspect of the show is a bit rote and perfunctory, dutifully putting its detectives through their paces because that’s what’s expected of a police procedural. In “St. Lucifer,” however, there was a lot more connective tissue between Dunlear’s murder and Lucifer’s personal lesson of the week. This is especially true because the victim’s wife turns out not only to be the killer, she tries to kill Lucifer, too. But more on that in a bit.
I have to say, Malcolm is a fantastic character, in no small part because of the way Kevin Rankin chews the scenery with such lustful abandon. He’s chewed his way through a lot of food this season too, but there’s actually a reason for this. As Malcolm explains it to Dan, in Hell, one is robbed of the things they most cherish. In Malcolm’s case, he had a real hunger for life — so he was isolated and deprived of food. He may have only been dead for a few seconds, but those few seconds were years in the afterworld. Of course, Dan believes none of what Malcolm is saying, and why would he, really? It’s not like anyone believes the Devil exists, even when they’re staring him in the eye. But Malcolm knows the truth, having literally been to Hell and back, and he has no intention of ever going back.
It was definitely interesting to see the fear in Lucifer’s eyes. He’s mortal, after all — or so he believes. Malcolm’s gun is certainly real enough, as real as the threat of Lucifer being returned to Hell against his will. I liked the idea of the Devil striking a deal with a mortal to save his own skin. For someone whose soil is so blacked with sin as Malcolm’s, a get-out-of-Hell-free card is too tempting to pass up. Amenadiel’s clever little plan is a bust, and Lucifer has dodged an actual bullet.
That is, until Tim Dunlear’s wife pumps several bullets into Lucifer’s chest. And it’s here that “St. Lucifer” plays its hand with a nice twist: Lucifer is still immortal — unless he’s with Chloe. In other words, she’s walking Kryptonite. This begs the question: Is Chloe Decker somehow of divine origin, as many viewers have speculated? It would certainly seem so. But if that’s the case, what does it mean for their partnership, and indeed the show itself? With two episodes left this season and a new season on the way, I’m sure we’ll find out in due time who or what Chloe really is.
Some closing thoughts:
This episode was full of great one-liners, delivered by Tom Ellis with great aplomb. Some of the better bon mots:
“The Devil usually has good gaydar.”
“I love LA. Even the homeless have an IMDb page.”
“The Devil does indeed wear Prada.”
Who would have thought Maze and Amenadiel could have such strong chemistry? Their scenes together were a lot of fun. Now, the only problem is that I need to know more about this mysterious “goat story.”
I liked the way Chloe described Lucifer’s Jedi mind trick as that “hypnotism voodoo eye thing.” This is the show poking fun at itself, but it also gave Chloe the chance to confess she missed the less altruistic Lucifer.
I didn’t really care about Dan or his predicament. He became an unsympathetic character ever since we learned he was another dirty cop embroiled in the Palmetto case.