One issue that crops up when sitcoms get bold or experimental -- as What We Do In The Shadows has over the last few weeks, pushing itself into new settings, new camera angles, touches of action or renewed energy -- is that it can make the reversion to the mean feel kind of dull. "March Madness" isn't a dull episode of TV, something you might notice around the time that a red, horned demon played by Jon Glaser rips his own body apart in a gorgeously sudden explosion of blood. But it's also a pretty standard episode of What We Do In The Shadows, arriving at a time when the show only has so many cracks at bat left. (Sorry, sports talk is flying in this thing.) Shadows is a series that pretty much only ever looks bad when compared to itself, but despite a few high points, and a few laugh-out loud moments (most especially from Mark Proksch and Harvey Guillén), "March Madness" probably isn't going on any "greatest episodes of all time" lists, either.
Our title plot comes when Nandor and Laszlo get distracted from a little light Monster chat by the sounds of screaming next door: Neighbor Sean (Anthony Atamaniuk, always welcome, but weirdly sidelined here) is caught in the paroxysms of March Madness, which the vamps diagnose as a form of demonic possession (caused, of course, by "red guys," either with horns, or without). One quick call to The Guide (who Nandor is still obviously crushing on), and they've summoned up their own demon (Glaser), who is also a fanatic for college basketball. And...that's the joke. Sean continues to hoot and holler his way into a minor heart issue, the demon says funny basketball lines in Glaser's lovely voice, and the writers correctly identify "Gonzaga" as the funniest college basketball team name to use while writing jokes. As if noting (accurately) that this is some pretty weak tea, the plot-line takes a couple of deviations, with Laszlo faced with the idea that it might be time to put his favorite pet human down, and -- in the one digression that really works -- Nandor hanging out with Sean's wife Charmaine, killing time by hooting and hollering along to episodes of Wipeout. (Charmaine reveals her assumption that not only is Nandor "a little slow," but that the whole purpose of the documentary is to record the life of "a slow guy.") There are funny jokes here, and Glaser's a pro, but the whole thing is fairly rote. I expect What We Do In The Shadows to surprise me about once every five minutes, and other than that big blood explosion, this particular storyline never zigs in any meaningful way.
Luckily, our latest trip to Cannon Capital Strategies over in the other half of the episode is a more lively affair, as Guillermo, struggling to find his identity as The Office ____ Guy, ends up seeking out both the best, and the worst, possible consultant for his problem: Colin Robinson. (Colin helpfully notes that he's been employed in 137 offices at this point.) The pair's efforts to ID which niches in the Office Guy ecosystem haven't already been taken is the funniest runner of the episode, with Proksch delivering setups and Guillén returning them in that particularly crestfallen Guillermo way. (Everybody on this show has their gifts, but Guillén has an incredible knack for sounding sorry for saying the funniest thing imaginable.) Colin -- who easily infiltrates the company as "one of those HR guys who walks around telling people not to talk about tits and ass at work" -- becomes the latest vamp to interfere in Guillermo's work, eventually trying to get him to adopt the persona of the Repressed Hothead, who blows up once every few weeks to keep his co-workers on their toes. Here, we get a genuine shock to the setup, as, each time Guillermo either tries to step to, or make peace with, Colin to set up his new rep, the energy vampire brutally socks him in the face in front of everybody. You'd be forgiven for thinking this was part of a wider scheme, but no, let's let Colin explain it: "Your guess is as good as mine... I will say, though, it felt effing fantastic!" Luckily(?) for Guillermo, his willingness to keep secrets about a potential lawsuit, honed from years of literally hiding bodies for his old bosses, gets him a reputation as "The Tight Vault." (Tim Heidecker's Jordan keeps trying to shorten it, but I'm pretty sure "Tight Vault" is going to stick.)
The contrast between the episode's two plot-lines really underlines how refreshing Cannon Capital has been for Shadows. The vampires are almost always at their best when out in the human world, surrounded by straight people for them to react off of, and the Cannon Crew, while a largely indistinct collection of business bros, fulfills that purpose marvelously. (I haven't even gotten into Nadja's running thread as the Office Funny Guy, which consists entirely of her delivering darker and darker "jokes" while pretending a banana is a phone. Natasia Demetriou only has like two minutes of screen-time tonight, but she makes the most of every second in what's basically her own little version of an I Think You Should Leave sketch.) "The vampires misunderstand a human thing in absurd and extreme ways," meanwhile, is a plot this show has done more than a dozen times over the years, and the March Madness version of it doesn't deviate much from the formula. And, honestly, I don't want to belabor the negatives here: The jokes here are funny, the characters and performances are as good as ever, and getting Glaser in the mix is a treat. You could put even the lesser half of this episode up against 90 percent of current TV comedies, and it'd come out the winner. But part of what makes What We Do In The Shadows such a joy is its capacity to surprise, and, right now, it's finding the energy to do that more often the further it gets from Staten Island and the Vampire Residence.