Is Rory Lucifer's daughter?
Meet Rory, everyone! She's Chloe and Lucifer's time-traveling angel daughter, here to punish her father for being absent her whole life. ... Lucifer insists that he would never have abandoned his child and jumps to the conclusion that someone must've murdered him with Azrael's blade. ew.com'Lucifer' final season binge recap: The devil says goodbye
10 September, 2021 - 10:51am
10 September, 2021 - 08:07am
Want to see more in-depth previews of all the Netflix Originals coming up in October 2021? We’ve got a separate preview for that and we’ll also have regional previews for the likes of the UK, Australia, and Canada in due course.
As always, keep an eye on removals for October 2021 too.
What are you looking forward to watching on Netflix in October 2021? Let us know in the comments. Keep this post bookmarked as it will be updated over time.
First Look at What's Coming to Netflix UK in October 2021
New Anime on Netflix in October 2021
What's Coming to Netflix in September 2021
What's Coming to Netflix This Week: September 6th to 12th, 2021
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10 September, 2021 - 03:33am
Lucifer returns for its sixth and final season, and the Team Lucifer members prepare to take on their new roles on Earth and in Heaven and Hell.
“Who wants to be tickled by Satan’s whiskers?”
Six weeks have passed, and Lucifer prepares to ascend into Heaven and begin his dream job – master of the universe. But the Devil’s having second thoughts about taking on God’s responsibilities, and “Nothing Ever Changes Around Here” cleverly sets up Lucifer’s sixth and final season to potentially explore the often unspoken desires that drive each character.
Though it was well documented that the season six episodes were completed and ready to air, conventional wisdom expected Netflix to wait much longer before releasing the series’ final ten episodes. Surprisingly, Lucifer fans had only to wait two and a half months to glimpse the aftermath of the angel-demon war which now centers around Lucifer’s reluctance to become God, and as it turns out, Mazikeen’s desire to remain on Earth rather than become Queen of Hell. However, in the end, it’s all about letting go and the inability to leave the past behind to embrace new challenges.
While much of the familiar remains in place, there are enough fresh narrative details to explore, not the least of which is the developing romantic relationship between the ultra adorable Eve (Inbar Lavi) and the angst driven demon Mazikeen (Lesley-Ann Brandt). There’s a lot to love about this season premiere, but the Hell themed dinner party Linda (Rachael Harris) and Amenadiel (D. B. Woodside) host for Eve and Maze on the evening before Maze leaves Earth to take up her duties in the underworld allows each character to shine.
In keeping with the episode’s theme, Linda can’t help but play therapist to the budding couple as they navigate the rocky waters that lie ahead, but it’s the incredibly patient and understanding Amenadiel who stands out as he recognizes that Linda’s “celestial therapy” reveals a great deal about Charlie’s mother. However, it’s his poignant reminder that “every act matters” that punctuates an evening full of beautifully awkward twists and turns. When Linda challenges Eve to consider her life as the Queen of Hell’s partner, we’re fully prepared to watch Eve reconsider her options and the relationship to implode.
Of course, that’s not what happens, and when Maze admits that she doesn’t “want to talk about it because I don’t want to go,” the result is quite unexpected. We’ve watched Maze agonize over her place in both the celestial and earthly worlds, so to watch her reject the role she seems destined to embrace reveals the depths of her personal growth. Now, we only have to wait to see if Lucifer (Tom Ellis) officiates at their wedding and Chloe (Lauren German) serves as Maid of Honor.
Like others on Team Lucifer, Linda struggles to reintegrate into a more mundane lifestyle free of celestial intrigues, and while Lucifer seems to have little difficulty walking away from his consulting job at the LAPD, Chloe finds her impending situation a bit more problematic. This episode’s murder takes place at an exclusive magicians club to which Lucifer takes Chloe on their last night in Los Angeles. Once the death defying act results in a magician’s death, Chloe can’t help herself and plays the detective one last time despite having resigned from the force.
Forensic scientist Ella Lopez’s appearance on the scene lends an air of familiarity, but it’s the dynamic interchange between Chloe’s replacement Carol Corbett (Matthew Scott Porter) and the former detective that drives the murder investigation. Though Chloe secures the crime scene, Carol tells her in the nicest way possible that not only does she have to back off, and until he determines otherwise, she and Lucifer remain suspects. Carol gracefully handles her intrusion, ultimately asking for her input. He’s a great character, and to a large extent, replaces Dan who now finds himself killing time in Hell. That said, he lacks Dan’s relationship baggage that made Chloe’s ex-husband such an easy target of Lucifer’s insecurities. It will be interesting to see whether he’s allowed inside this tightly knit group and made privy to some of their secrets.
Still, Ella’s ignorance of the celestial identities of those around her looms ominously overhead. Though Lucifer’s impatience at the crime scene stems more from a desire to continue his date with Chloe than a reticence to take over as God, it’s Ella’s heartfelt confession that God has stopped listening to her prayers that gives Lucifer pause. This may be the first time he’s actually thought through the ramifications of sitting in the Big Guy’s chair. Though he’d likely be loath to admit it, Lucifer often uses Miss Lopez (Aimee Garcia) as a human faith barometer, but this encounter with her forces him to step outside his wonder-seeker persona to acknowledge what it will really mean to walk in God’s shoes. “God needs to be selfless. He needs to care about all of humanity.” Not exactly Lucifer’s modus operandi to this point.
One of the more attractive aspects of Lucifer’s relationship with Chloe centers on his willingness to expose his emotional vulnerabilities, and here, we have to wonder whether he’s setting up a scenario in which he opts out of a Silver City return. It’s also unclear how Chloe truly feels about giving up her life on Earth, but if the “locked room mystery” shows us anything, it’s that the detective may not be ready to play God’s companion and leave her intellectual pursuits behind despite her outwardly supportive stance.
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“Nothing Ever Changes Around Here” opens with a stunning shot of the white tuxedoed Lucifer driving down an LA street in his black Corvette on his way to meet Chloe for their evening on the town. It’s a wonderful scene that gives the Devil one last opportunity to engage with the common man whose desires don’t always embody the best of us. Still, it’s the final baffling image of Hell’s throne and its occupant adorned in fishnet stockings and platform boots – most certainly not Lucifer – that throws us off balance.
Since Mazikeen makes it clear she’s ready to abdicate her responsibilities as Hell’s queen, it’s unlikely she occupies Lucifer’s former seat. Dan’s observation that something’s different implies that Lucifer might play a role regarding his successor, but it’s also not known whether he knows of Maze’s plan to marry Eve and remain on Earth. It’s a puzzle.
The ironic nature of the episode’s title “Nothing Ever Changes Around Here” should not be dismissed, and while it’s true, the members of Team Lucifer may, in fact, end up returning to their former lives, nothing will ever be the same for them. There’s no question the anticipation of seeing Lucifer take up God’s mantle still looms large, but whether or not we ever witness that conclusion, the series’ writers give fans plenty to absorb and enjoy along the way. And, as we all know, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Too soon?
Dave's passion lies with writing and podcasting about science fiction television and film. There’s been no turning back after discovering The X-Files in 1993 as he…
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09 September, 2021 - 09:55am
Lucifer unleashes its final 10 episodes on Netflix Friday, and though I’ve seen the show’s swan song, I’m not going to ruin it for the fans. This bit of Satan-adjacent advocacy is, for the most part, directed at those unfamiliar with Lucifer, which debuted one thousand years ago (i.e., early 2016).
But before I start trying to win over newbies, I will say this to the Lucifam: There’s a sequence in the final episode that is as visually compelling as anything this well-made series has ever done. Longtime viewers should prepare to get misty a time or six, because the show remains so damn good at earning and delivering Big Emotional Moments. A host of callbacks also underline how different and, in a weird way, how not different the show’s sixth season is from its first. As in theology, we must respect that deep truths can contain complicated dualities.
If you are willing to sample Lucifer for the first time, you should know that, over the years, it’s gotten looser, funnier, more sure of itself and more emotionally engaging, all while showing admirable fealty to the building blocks of quality mainstream television. Season-long arcs typically contain smartly structured twists and reveals, and almost every episode contains pleasing dramatic tension, top-tier banter, and thematic connections to whatever the core characters are going through. Episodes got longer after Lucifer jumped from Fox to Netflix in the middle of its run—but like me, you may find yourself exclaiming, “Wait, a streaming drama that isn’t overly gloomy and doesn’t meander? Am I actually in Heaven?”
The show, loosely based on a DC comic book character, is named for one of its protagonists: Lucifer Morningstar, a playboy who likes sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll. Running an L.A. club named Lux allows him to indulge in all those things with willing partners of all genders, even though, if he were abiding by his Father’s wishes, Lucifer would be spending yet more eons ruling Hell. Through a series of only-in-TV misadventures, he ends up working with a straight-laced detective and yes—please, just go with it—they solve crimes. Lucifer (the character) also has a schtick: By fixing suspects with his charismatic stare and asking them what they desire, Lucifer can elicit their true motivations, which often helps him and Det. Chloe Decker (Lauren German) crack cases.
As a critic, I have been subjected to “Harry Houdini and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, but they solve crimes” and “updated Frankenstein, but he solves crimes,” and on and on into procedural infinity. Better than most, I understand your potential wariness. But let us pause for a reading from the Book of Mo Ryan: Lucifer is a multilayered, consistently diverting treat, especially once you get past the first five episodes of the debut season—which are heavy on procedural fare, and lighter on the juicy mythology that helped the drama, by midway through its first season, ascend to a higher plane.
As the show found its groove, Lucifer’s deft melding of imaginative character arcs, its compassionate exploration of the abandonment, rejection and insecurity most of its characters feel, and its frisky, good-hearted humor made it one of a kind. It stands out even more in a TV landscape that’s increasingly full of dramas that take themselves seriously while under-delivering on numerous crucial fronts. Lucifer is also, under its witty exterior, quite respectful not just of faith, but of the difficulty of overcoming deep psychic wounds. (Lucifer, naturally, sees a therapist.)
If nothing else, Lucifer provides an object lesson in how to take a TV narrative initially centered on an entitled white man with serious daddy issues, broaden it in dozens of smart ways, and make it not just sex-positive, energetic, inclusive and smart, but surprisingly deep and humane. Over the years, the drama and its ensemble were so quietly good at what they did that, outside of the passionate fandom that helped rescue it from that shocking Fox cancellation, too few people noticed Lucifer had evolved into one of the most enjoyable and consistently excellent shows on television.
Much of the drama is generated by Lucifer’s two found families: The Earthly one clustered around Lucifer and Chloe, and the heavenly host that turns up once Lucifer’s absence from Hell becomes an issue for various “celestial” factions. As co-showrunner and executive producer Ildy Modrovich noted in a 2020 interview, the problems of Lucifer and his fellow gods, demons and angels are not all that lofty: These folks are “the highest, most powerful beings you can imagine. But they all are broken and dysfunctional. And that is relatable.” Indeed.
Of course, Modrovich and co-showrunner Joe Henderson and their cast and crew would not have been able to launch Lucifer into television’s highest tiers without tremendously committed, precise performances from the show’s leads, Lauren German and Tom Ellis. Lucifer and Chloe, a tenacious and hard-working single mother, both have formidable walls up for very different reasons when the show begins. Right from the start, Ellis displays a virtuoso ability to smoothly move among various devilish modes—lively curiosity, a deep-seated hunger for justice, self-absorbed impulsivity, soul-rattling rage, hedonistic desire, and romantic yearning. In the hands of a lesser actor, Lucifer might have been insufferable, but Ellis brings endearing innocence to the character’s quests for both pleasure and for the truth in all things (it’s a point of pride for Lucifer that he never lies).
As for German, it’s not unusual for Chloe, the steadier half of the duo, to be asked to detonate emotional landmines, deliver dry quips and add information to an investigation or to the show’s mythology, often all in one scene–and she never falters. The differences between the two core characters, and the subtle ways in which German illuminates Chloe’s ambivalence and growing vulnerability, bring wonderful balance and tension to the heart of the show. I will miss the epic Deckerstar romance that the actors made so real; both brought impressive range and smartly calibrated intensity to these two guarded souls and their rocky path toward true intimacy.
I don’t want to say goodbye to any of these people, so I’m re-watching Lucifer, and once again enjoying its fish-out-of-water elements (humans “won’t shut up about something called gluten,” Tricia Helfer’s celestial character wails at one point). I’m appreciating the bountiful gifts that D.B. Woodside, Kevin Alejandro, Lesley-Ann Brandt, Helfer, Rachael Harris, Scarlett Estevez, Inbar Lavi, and Aimee Garcia brought to the Lucifer saga.
I’m looking forward to re-watching the show’s positively gripping later seasons, which get wilder and woollier and feature Dennis Haysbert doing typically fantastic work in a key role, deliver a gorgeous film noir episode, and unleash a very amusing procedural parody (the theme song of ¡Lieutenant Diablo!: “Crime-solving Devil, don’t overthink it, it makes sense”). Without being heavy-handed about it, the drama has always taken it as a given that some cops are corrupt. But it’s worth noting that in the final season—within Lucifer’s tonal limits, of course—the show more deeply acknowledges the L.A.P.D.’s violent, oppressive history when it comes to policing Black communities. Lucifer’s willingness to evolve, even when that might seem inconvenient, is not surprising, given that, from the start, the show has explored the question of what effective and responsible justice, punishment and atonement actually look like—not just in Hell but on Earth, too.
All in all, Lucifer may not be the devil you know; this one plays the piano, loves a Bones marathon, and gets cranky when sinners imply he made them do anything. Given that free will is a thing (probably?), I can’t make you check out this show, and I certainly can’t compel you to enjoy it. But be honest—aren’t you tempted?