The stakes are larger and more immediate in season 3 of The Legend of Vox Machina – streaming on Prime Video. Liam Maguren dives into the first three episodes of the new season.
(Spoilers for the previous two seasons ahead.)
For fans of the high-fantasy adventuring of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power and the gory/raunchy/just plain juvenile comedy of The Boys, there’s one Prime Video series that sandwiches both those good tastes together. If you’re not on the band wagon already, The Legend of Vox Machina is a swords-n-sorcery saga worth taking whether you’re into otherworldly battles, stories with heart, jokes about bums, or—ideally—all of the above.
When I wrote about Vox Machina last year, I mentioned how its source material—the tabletop DnD podcast Critical Role—made it stand out in the current crop of swords-and-sorcery fantasies. Blessed with the same crew of professional voice actors that made the audio show a hit, the Amazon Original series transforms their creation into a kind of Saturday Morning cartoon for nerds old enough to remember what a Saturday Morning cartoon was.
It even comes with a blood-pumping, guitar-shredding, rad-as-hell title sequence.
Releasing three episodes a week, the first batch of eps from season 3 doesn’t waste a second of your time. It assumes you either: A) remember what happened in the previous season, B) just finished that season, or C) you forgot some stuff but will get the gist when things get rolling.
The first episode’s dedicated to the late great Lance Riddick, whose deep and dominant voice pairs perfectly with the show’s Big Bad—Thordak the God dragon. What could be worse? A God dragon being driven slowly insane by the crystal that grants him God powers. Worse-r still? He’s about to hatch some God babies.
With stakes these large and immediate, Vox Machina haven’t a moment to waste—and this season feels equally dedicated to not wasting any of yours. This dire quest shoots the crew towards a journey to Hell and back—maybe literally—as they hastily hunt for the vestiges (magical McGuffins) needed to stop Thordak.
Warnings and premonitions hint at the possibility that some, perhaps all, of Vox Machina may not make it out of this one. As a result, any simmering embers of romance between certain characters throughout the previous seasons get buckets of gasoline thrown on them. It’s hot, naturally, though some of the crew also get burned. Nevertheless, it’s deeply satisfying to see these characters emotionally release in such quick fashion. Nothing motivates a person to confess their feelings to a crush like the threat of death.
The 2nd episode manages to fit in some wise perspectives on gun control without it ever feeling like An Episode About Gun Control. Meanwhile, Scanlan’s trying to worm his way out of the Deadbeat Dad Zone by approaching his distant daughter Kaylie. Scanlan’s long been the jokiest character of the lot—a sort-of sex-crazed Jack Black used for comedic relief—but through his inability to be earnest with Kaylie, we’re starting to see his self-esteem problems come to light. There comes a point where these issues no longer become a joke.
The third and final episode of the first batch disrupts the dragons’ dynamic. With Thordak asserting his dominance, perhaps to a maniacal degree, there’s a sense that this isn’t quite the dragon democracy the others may have thought it was, adding a compelling little complexity to the villains’ side of the story.
And without revealing too much, there’s a saucy moment that had me desperately minimising my screen in the office. I liked what I saw though, not gonna lie, and I appreciated how the story intercut two horndogs with a moment of genuine heartbreak.
It’s a testament to The Legend of Vox Machina’s ability to find meaning in its raunchiness. A sex scene doesn’t exist just for cheap titillation—it lingers in the characters’ minds and has emotional consequences. Intimacy and insecurity are common bedfellows, one often revealing the other. Quite a tender observation for a series that previously showed its heroes fighting a dragon by entering its butthole.
Season 3 doesn’t sacrifice the show’s juvenile sense of humour—thank God for that—but perhaps its most telling that the most memorable moment for me in these first three episodes isn’t one particular action scene or an audacious comedy sequence. It’s a simple line, something romantic that isn’t about romance, said not to solve a friend’s problem but just to acknowledge that you’ll be there while these problems exist.
They’re three simple words to look out for: “As you like…”
