Review: Talamasca: The Secret Order — AMC’s New Anne Rice Spinoff Fumbles Its Supernatural Spy Ambitions

AMC continues to expand Anne Rice’s Immortal Universe, this time stepping away from vampires, witches, and blood-soaked romance to explore the covert world of Talamasca, the secretive order long hinted at in Interview With the Vampire and The Mayfair Witches. With Talamasca: The Secret Order, the network attempts to deliver a supernatural spy thriller — an occult-flavored procedural infused with gothic lore, ancient conspiracies, and clandestine surveillance. On paper, it’s an irresistible mix. In execution, it’s a series that can’t quite reconcile its grand ambitions with its uneven storytelling.

Created by John Lee Hancock, the show positions Talamasca as a shadow organization tasked with monitoring supernatural threats: creatures who masquerade as humans, enigmatic forces that slip into contemporary life, and phenomena hidden behind centuries of secrecy. It’s a “CIA for the occult,” and Hancock leans heavily into the paranoid thriller tone. Yet despite its promising premise and stylish production, the show often struggles to decide what kind of story it wants to tell.

At the center is Guy (Nicholas Denton), a brooding young man whose life has been shaped by forces he never understood. The series opens with a recruitment scene—effectively a supernatural job interview—between Guy and Helen (Elizabeth McGovern), a refined senior operative with a talent for keeping dangerous secrets. Guy, aware that he has been watched for years, lays down his non-negotiables: “You never lie to me. No ‘above your pay grade.’ No ‘all will be revealed.’ None of that bullshit.” He demands transparency. Helen promises it. And immediately, viewers know it’s a lie.

This exchange sets the tone for the entire series: Talamasca swears honesty while performing the opposite. The tension between what the order claims to be and what it actually is forms the show’s central conflict. Denton gives Guy a wounded, restless energy, and his performance is among the series’ strengths. His journey from manipulated outsider to reluctant initiate provides a solid emotional spine.

Elizabeth McGovern is equally compelling as Helen, playing her with a calm, aristocratic menace. She projects warmth but wields it like a tool, and her silences say more than her explanations. Meanwhile, William Fichtner brings gravitas as the organization’s experienced, world-weary operative whose allegiance to Talamasca’s murky mission is both reassuring and troubling. His presence gives the series a moral weight it desperately needs.

Where the show falters is in its efforts to merge gothic mystery with espionage pacing. The scripts often juggle competing impulses: atmospheric horror on one hand and sleek spy mechanics on the other. The result is that episodes sometimes feel disjointed, pulling the audience between shadowy convents, candlelit archives, and modern tactical briefings. The moody dread that defined earlier Anne Rice adaptations is present, but sporadically. Just as the series begins to build a chilling supernatural mystery, it pivots into action-thriller mode and loses momentum.

Visually, Talamasca is attractive. The production design leans into baroque libraries, dimly lit corridors, and arcane artifacts that feel appropriately ancient. The cinematography is polished and often lush, giving the series a prestige sheen even when the plot becomes muddled. Fans of gothic aesthetics will find plenty to enjoy in the show’s world-building, which hints at centuries of hidden wars and forgotten lore.

Yet the show’s biggest problem is narrative clarity. The Talamasca’s inner workings remain deliberately opaque, which makes sense for a secret society but not for a viewer trying to follow the story. Motivations shift without explanation. Characters promise honesty but trade in half-truths. Important revelations are teased, then deferred. The show tries to capture the intrigue of a spy network while retaining the mystique of supernatural mythology, and in doing so, often becomes frustratingly vague.

The pacing also suffers. Some episodes unfold slowly, letting tension simmer; others cram in multiple plot twists with little time for emotional impact. As a result, the stakes can feel abstract. We’re told repeatedly that the Talamasca guards humanity from unimaginable horrors, but the series rarely provides a concrete sense of the danger. Without a strong antagonist or a defined threat, the order’s secrecy feels more bureaucratic than ominous.

Still, there are glimmers of the gripping show it wants to be. When Talamasca leans into character drama—Guy confronting the organization’s lies, Helen wrestling with loyalty versus conscience—the series becomes more compelling. The chemistry between Denton and McGovern anchors the narrative, offering moments of genuine tension and emotional conflict.

Ultimately, Talamasca: The Secret Order is an intriguing addition to Anne Rice’s universe but an uneven one. It casts a spell, but not consistently. The potential is unmistakable, yet the execution wavers between gothic thriller and spy procedural without fully committing to either. Fans of the Immortal Universe will likely appreciate the lore expansions, but newcomers may find themselves wanting more clarity, more danger, and more bite.

A supernatural spy thriller is a bold idea. Talamasca occasionally reaches those heights—but too often settles for shadows instead of letting its darkness truly shine.