Lucifer, a wonderful show about a crime-solving devil who’s bored with Hell and living in Los Angeles instead, came back for a fourth season this year after Netflix swooped in and saved it from TV cancelation. As anything that includes the slight mention of a car, Lucifer has caused my colleague Kristen Lee and I to form some opinions.
These, of course, are aside from our unanimous opinion that one of the reasons we love the show so much because it’s one of those “bad boy turned good scenarios that we dumb bitches eat up,” as Kristen put it, and because this portrayal of the Devil has a British accent and any transgressions are forgiven with a good accent. Anyway, moving on.
In the show, the newly above-ground Lucifer Morningstar, played by Tom Ellis, owns a nightclub and has wads of cash to spend on anything and everything he might want. He has all of the personality traits one would expect from someone who’s been frolicking around Hell for most of eternity—irresponsibility, a love for doing anything sinful and a knack for punishing those who deserve it—with a goofy, charming twist, and that personality slowly morphs for the better as he falls in love with an area detective who’s exactly the opposite of those things.
But with all of that money, carefree attitude and general want to punish people for their bad deeds, Lucifer drives himself around in a, well, first-generation Chevrolet Corvette. Apparently it’s a 1962 Corvette, the last year for the C1 but still packing a 327-cubic-inch V8.
The C1 works well in the context of the show, since Lucifer’s often cruising around with the top down like a retiree on a Sunday drive and since he’s got a nice “FALL1N1” license plate to go along with the black paint, but Kristen and I couldn’t help but feel iffy about the choice. (We also couldn’t help but feel iffy about the pronunciation of “Porsche” without the “-uh” once. Aside from that, we’re obsessed with the show.)
But would the Devil really drive a Boomer’s dream car even he calls “a dime a dozen” on screen? Would his sidekick, a battle-trained demon named Mazikeen and played by Lesley-Ann Brandt—who’s basically Kim Possible for adults, with some demonic flare, a short temper and so many variations of tight, black clothing that it made me wonder why I had any actual colors in my own closet—drive a current-generation Audi R8, which didn’t even leave me the pleasure of wondering whether she was throwing around a gated manual shifter in there?
No, we decided. There has to be something better, for the both of them.
After much deep, exhaustive car and character debate, Kristen and I came to a consensus: Lucifer should have been in a Lamborghini Diablo roadster, which he could still cruise around in with the top down but also drive hard whenever, and Mazikeen should have been in a new Dodge Challenger SRT Demon, which fits her smash-and-grab personality as well as her true nature. (We’re only recasting two cars because everyone else pretty much has a cop car or flies.)
There can be no debate here, as Kristen so eloquently put it in our all-important Slack discussion:
Sure, we picked the most obvious choices—a Devil for the Devil, and a Demon for the top demon. Do these choices say more about us than they do the show? Probably.
Will we debate them to the death, like Mazikeen if you look at her the wrong way? Absolutely.