LUCIFER SEASON 4: This Devilishly Lively Fantasy Series Unearths More Reflection

For three seasons, Lucifer ingrained its horns in FOX, a broadcast network channel that has been known to cancel a lot of its content when the shows fail to grasp a wide enough audience. Lucifer was fairly popular, upheld by a fervent fanbase who fell in love with the devilishly handsome, wonderfully kooky and frightfully self-assured Devil, played impeccably by Tom Ellis — as did I. Although the Devil is initially sketched to have putrid horns and wings, a scathing marrow of rage, a vision of pain and a heart of pure evil, in Lucifer, the devil is a weirdly candid, voluptuous, clever and shockingly solicitous entity in the shell of a human skin — and the first three seasons (although prolonged and slightly tedious) worked out supremely well because of Ellis’ portrayal of the Devil.

FOX, out of sheer negligence, canceled Lucifer after its third season, which ended on a cliffhanger! Watching the Devil learn to love a human, more specifically an L.A. police detective named Chloe Decker (played by Lauren German), is one of the most gratifying relationships seen on television — but they never got the sendoff they deserved. A month later, the lord and savior Netflix came a knocking, and Netflix dug Lucifer out from the grave and breathed more life in an unorthodox crime series that showcases a first-rate cast, operating a story that really shouldn’t work, but the chemistry among the entire cast is diverting and prevents the insipidity of cop shows take full effect.

If you didn’t know the concept already, Lucifer follows Lucifer himself, who ventures to Los Angeles to spend his retirement indulging himself with all the alcohol, women (and men), and “favors” (ever hear of “a deal with the Devil?”) he can face. Originally based on characters created by Neil Gaiman, Sam Kieth and Mike Dringenberg, this peculiar and seemingly ungodly series is meant to entertain, of course (which it does marvelously), but it also exhumes empathy, deep-seated feelings and proper character development that renders the show pawky and tolerable to any viewer, no matter their religion.

The writers perceive the religious undercurrents in a manner that’s keenly sardonic, and it’s always good to keep in mind the show is a form of entertainment. The creators/writers are able to paint an unholy image of the Devil himself, and simply make the character (or the Original Fallen Angel) likable and knowingly flawed. Yes, the show is immensely funny and theatrical almost, but there’s actual diligence put into advancing the relationships and managing the enticing chemistry between Lucifer and Chloe (and especially the rollicking banter between Lucifer and Chloe’s ex-husband, Dan, a.k.a Douche). But like a Pam and Jim situation, Lucifer and Chloe’s relationship will take a while to truly form; but there are moments sprinkled throughout the series that provide viewers a slice of their imminent romance.

Lucifer: Season 3 Overview

Last season, Lucifer dealt with the arrival of Marcus Pierce (Tom Welling), who is actually Cain, the world’s first murderer. At first, Cain exclusively appears as the new L.A.P.D. Lieutenant and Chloe’s new boss. Motivated to die and to end his suffering of eternal life, Cain confides in Lucifer to help him achieve the wish of dying. Cain ends up being an obstacle between Lucifer and Chloe and ultimately uses Chloe, only to break Chloe’s heart. As disheartening as breaking Chloe’s heart is, it’s revealed that Cain was running an underground criminal organization while being the L.A.P.D. Lieutenant.

Then you have Charlotte Richards (played by Tricia Helfer), an attorney who was murdered and used as a vessel for Lucifer’s mom, Goddess of All Creation. After Lucifer’s mom was sent to a different universe, Charlotte was revived, and her memory of the past few months are plagued by images of Hell. Eventually learning the truth, and realizing she was in Hell while the Goddess of All Creation possessed her body, Charlotte’s dedicated to change — but her past life keeps on disrupting her aspiration to change. Woefully, Charlotte is killed by Cain, but a downhearted Amenadiel (played by D.B. Woodside) literally flies her up into Heaven, leaving Dan (Kevin Alejandro) despondent and dyspeptic.

Cain’s recklessness plunges Lucifer to kill Cain and in order to protect Chloe, Lucifer is forced to use his wings as a shield against a hellfire of bullets. And since Lucifer’s rage is so fiery and immoderate, his Devil face is uncloaked, and after three full seasons of not acknowledging Lucifer’s true nature, Chloe discovers Lucifer has never lied to her, and he is, in fact, the Devil.

Honestly though, how could the show get canned after a cliffhanger like that? Isn’t there a law that averts this kind of storytelling neglect? Thankfully, Netflix saved the show and released the entirety of season 4 on May 8, 2019.

Season 4: Where Are We Now?

Season four of Lucifer opens up with Tom Ellis singing a cover of Radiohead’s Creep, emanating his character’s pain through a piano ballad version and singing the tune in an intimate, plaintive and softly sung fashion. Lucifer’s forlorn state is geared by Chloe’s precipitous decision to “go on vacation” after finally seeing Lucifer’s Devil face, yet that kind of poignancy is concluded by a gun being pointed at Lucifer’s head, and believe it or not, it’s the indefatigable and vengeful malefactor Lee (Jeremiah Birkett); the same one who tried to rob a bank in season two and was apprehended by Lucifer and Amenadiel, and the same one who Lucifer abandoned in the desert in season three. The entire scene unfolds in an expeditious and brutal fight sequence — or beatdown, speaking as Lucifer, being impregnable and being able to withstand any weapon (when Chloe isn’t around, at least), Lucifer knocks out Lee and his goons. Comically, Lucifer finds Lee’s self-pity credible, and out of penitence, he decides to give Lee some of his money and valuable belongings to start a new life and pay for his goons’ medical bills.

 

During the fight, however, Lucifer undergoes a moment of reflection and mutters to himself insistently: “Confusion, disgust, terror. I wonder if that’s what she felt.” This scene relies heavily on Ellis’ shoulders, and if it wasn’t for his superb and perfervid face acting, these lines wouldn’t work as effectively. And as the season moves along, Ellis proves to be a ceaselessly animated and dedicated presence: filling the screen with snazzy suits, hellish features, tart quips, licentious escapades and significantly felt realizations. He’s the Devil, so chaos lingers wherever he goes, but this season proves to be the most personal and gratifying season yet, thanks to Netflix.

Lucifer and Chloe: The Stellar Romance the Writers Laudably Tease

The first few episodes (mainly 1-3) grapples with Chloe’s startling comprehension of Lucifer’s true essence. Unsure if Chloe will ever return from “vacation,” Lucifer still investigates crime scenes, hoping to see her face again. Lucifer’s close friend/demon enforcer Mazikeen (Lesley-Ann Brandt) is still eager to apologize to Chloe’s daughter, Trixie, after a few unsavory words were said during an argument with Chloe. Mazikeen has progressed from a masochistic and malefic demon to a demon who now resonates with human beings, more specifically the voluble and pliable therapist Linda Martin (Rachael Harris), and of course, the young pure soul of Trixie.

Brandt continues to sell the role convincingly, while Harris propels every one of these superior beings — whether it be Lucifer, Mazikeen or Amenadiel — to self-actualize, and ruminate on decisions they are too fearful to react too. Linda’s the glue that holds Lucifer together, and she has been here since day 1. So when Chloe very casually walks up to a crime scene, next to Lucifer, firmly stating how she’s fine with Lucifer’s authentic self, a captious Lucifer immediately runs to Linda to seek disapproval in Chloe’s seemingly specious reaction. In hindsight, Lucifer is most certainly correct to be suspicious.

Chloe, being an implacable and meticulous detective, traveled to Rome to evaluate the religious background of the Devil. Knowing Lucifer’s truth, Chloe reads many stories and documents about the Devil, the incarnate of evil, trying to unveil attestation that proves Lucifer is an entity beyond saving (“Dante’s Inferno” is spurious hokum, according to Lucifer himself), or if he’s a misunderstood fallen angel, who has a lot to be desired but his father deserted him in a flaming pit of lost and scathed souls.

Chloe confides in Father Kinley (Graham McTavish), an unflagging and base priest, manipulating Chloe into poisoning Lucifer back to Hell to obviate a prophecy from unraveling. But after revealing to Chloe that she makes him bleed because she makes him vulnerable, Lucifer persuades Chloe of his altruism and capability of love. Lucifer saves Chloe’s life, despite the fact that all of his indomitable mechanisms are transiently disabled by Chloe’s presence. Chloe perceives Lucifer’s act of bravery as an authentic gesture of his compassion, but she still finds discomfort in his Devil appearance, evoking a severe strain on their relationship. They drift further and further apart, thrusting Lucifer into a disconsolate state once again.

The handling of Lucifer and Chloe’s relationship in this season is acutely reflective and audacious, taking storytelling leaps that cultivate their chemistry in a compelling approach: Chloe’s reaction to Lucifer’s verity is comprehensible and outlines unalloyed confoundment, predominantly because there are all of these Bible and ecclesiastical passages, painting Lucifer as the embodiment of evil; yet, being the punctilious detective that she is, she ventures to untangle Lucifer’s honest-to-God spirit like any other investigation she tackled in the past. Chloe essentially realizes Lucifer isn’t the Devil he once was, but Lucifer is heartily wounded by Chloe’s betrayal, prompting him to seek solace in his “first love,” the-one-and-only Eve.

The Supporting Characters Are Complete Devils

Escaping Heaven due to boredom, Eve (Inbar Lavi from Prison Break and Imposters) wanders Earth in search of Lucifer, craving a bit of outrageous fun and sizzling escapades that are in no way holy. Lavi portrays Eve in an abundantly entrancing performance, which viewers should feel conflicted about. Chloe and Eve have disparate outlooks on Lucifer and the way he should act: Chloe believes Lucifer is still an Angel, and he’s capable of change, all of which doesn’t involve torture; while Eve believes Lucifer should stick to his grounded roots, and embrace the maltreatment he once effectuated in Hell and string along that rancor and ire to Earth, and punish the miscreants on Earth.

These clashing perspectives engender a perceptive glance at Lucifer’s blighted image. Lucifer has encountered turpitude and peccability, but it’s not his identity and the past isn’t what defines him. The public’s hostility and odium of his devilish nature isn’t what bothers him (although, it’s fair to say that having various stories being spuriously told about you can be irksome), it’s his inner demons, perpetually raising hell and grating doubt — convincing him that Chloe will always see the worst of him. For Eve, an acrid and unhinged Lucifer is the best possible version he can be; punishment is what he knows best, so why complicate things with law-abiding clemency? Chloe knows Lucifer cares for her and knows Lucifer cognizes the law, so why must Lucifer continue to inveigle himself that he will always be this figure that society views him as?

It does get to a point that Eve is a character not wholly fleshed out throughout the brisk ten episodes. The shorter season is a blessing in itself — definitely shining a light on all of the subject matter more attentively — but Eve, being a new character and all, needs another season. For Linda, Amenadiel and Mazikeen, they help create one hell of a family. Linda’s pregnant with Amenadiel’s baby (who may or may not end up being an angel baby), and Mazikeen, having made amends with Trixie in a subtly heart-rending moment, tries to be a part of the baby’s life as well.

You thought your family is dysfunctional, wait until you meet this one: a minacious demon (who’s dexterous at knife throwing and is polishing the baby’s first knife set, how sweet), a celestial angel, and a human therapist, literally trying to angel baby proof the house (we can’t have a baby flying around in a house with sharp objects). The baby brings these characters together after the last season had these characters against each other’s throats — now eliciting infectious back-and-forth dialogue between them that still holds more weight than a sitcom.

Anticipating the arrival of his baby, Amenadiel is forced to fight his sister, who has come from the Silver City to take the half-angel/half-human baby up to the Silver City where he belongs. Amenadiel’s feud with his sister ends quickly, and only really comes across as an unfulfilled story endeavor, not yet utilized to rigorously draw the comparison or weighty complications between Angels and Humans. During the end of the season, Amenadiel befriends and emulates a father to a troubled teen. It’s a stirring and empathetic story maneuver delineating Amenadiel’s development as an Angel. Despite being foreseeable, their bond is clearly intact, even if it did last for scarcely one episode. Woodside embodies Amenadiel in a cogent manner, fittingly radiating the character’s nonplussed and endearingly clueless behavior.

Dan is a character with prolific rage and spleen throughout this season, basically inculpating Lucifer as the reason for why Charlotte was killed. Alejandro is a deft actor, playing the role with absolute conviction, but the character’s inclination to blame and disregard other people (more precisely, Lucifer) becomes enervating. But the scenes in which Dan is flouting the laws with Mazikeen to offer up some “real” justice, is bloody fun.

A Cop Show That Stays Fresh

Lucifer is still a cop show, and every episode still follows the routine in which a crime is introduced, and it’s up to Lucifer and Chloe to solve it. As exhausting as that may sound, the murder subplots enliven Lucifer and Chloe’s relationship — it clears the path for more whip-smart and well-timed quips and fragments of dialogue that are added to my personal dictionary.

So yes, there are crimes that need solving, but that’s background noise and it solely fuels the chemistry of the characters and the construction of the show’s pacing/atmosphere. Lucifer is a fantasy cop show, sketched in reality (the lustrous city of L.A. proves to be a felicitous setting), but interlacing biblical personas to underline the depravity of society in risible and divine ways, twirls the tedium of cop shows and renders the concept fresh. The quiddity of the humor and heart of the show is nurtured by the Devil, for god’s sake, but it works. The kicky soundtrack and Ellis’ angelic singing voice maintains the emotion, while the cinematography is compiled through alluring close-up and reaction shots, displaying the physical dexterity of the actors on-screen.

The series continues to have superlative comedic timing, along with heady drama that sinks its teeth into self-image and perspective. There’s always impulsive judgment and mendacious beliefs or stories about someone or something in society, and in a screwy direction, Lucifer depicts a lot about how we, as faulty human beings, tend to look at ourselves through a woolly mirror of self-adulation or self-hatred because we let other people (or even ourselves) get to us. We all have a mask hiding our emotions and our vile insides, petrified of what others will think — and in this case, the Devil has insecurities that identify with fellow (and not-so-convivial) human peers. This isn’t new however, Lucifer has done this since the beginning, but it’s even more piercing and pertinent in season four.

Chloe and Lucifer’s relationship is naturally the most absorbing ingredient, and despite having numerous issues in their relationship, their chemistry vitalizes the turmoil that’s destined to transpire. The prophecy ends up coming true: When the Devil walks the Earth and finds his first love, evil and destruction will emerge from the depths of Hell and blemish the world. A restive and fretful Lucifer is unable to foil the prophecy by simply breaking up with Eve, but it’s Chloe who realizes that Lucifer has to love and forgive himself for the self-loathing he subconsciously acts on, and only then can the prophecy scatter into nihility.

The prophecy is terminated, but Lucifer, Chloe, Amenadiel and Mazikeen fight off against demons who possessed the bodies of damned souls. The demons first come to bring Lucifer home, but after being ignored by Lucifer, the demons use Linda and Amenadiel’s baby (who is half-angel) to crown a new king of Hell. The demons are anathematized out, and the baby is thankfully saved. Chloe and Lucifer kiss, but Lucifer fears the inevitable return of more infernal demons, therefore triggering another hiccup that deters their relationship from commencing, again. The ending leaves audiences on another cliffhanger: Lucifer returns to Hell to manage the insufferable demons and make sure they don’t raise hell on Earth.

Conclusion: Worthy Season Has More Lunacy and Romantic Sparks

This season really does spotlight the talent and fervency of Ellis, who delivers the dialogue and physicality of the Devil in a fashion that appears tailor-made for Ellis. How could anyone overpower this handsome devil? The episodes fly by, and the characters reflect more on their naturalistic and hellish features and experiences, which further invigorates Lucifer and Chloe’s perfectly imperfect relationship.

Relationships can be hell; they may need constant maintenance, but sometimes a little bit of messiness is healthy. In Lucifer, a human detective falls for the Devil, an angel impregnates a human therapist, and a demon befriends a young child. Season four of Lucifer is brazenly hypnotic, keeping things wicked and commendably peculiar.

What did you think of season 4? Is Lucifer in a better place on Netflix? Let us know in the comments!

Season 4 of Lucifer was released May 8, 2019, on Netflix. All of the seasons are available to stream.