For the first two seasons, the mystery of the Book of Leaves —a pre-flood archive of ancient science—drives a thrilling global chase. Leo travels from the sewers of Rome to the temples of the Incas (yes, really) and the caves of the Middle East. The show argues, rather beautifully, that the Church suppressed science not out of malice, but out of fear that knowledge would make man equal to God.
Created by David S. Goyer (the mind behind The Dark Knight trilogy and Blade ) and aired on Starz from 2013 to 2015, Da Vinci’s Demons is not a historical biopic. It is a gonzo, glorious, and gloriously messy historical fantasy. It is Assassin’s Creed by way of Sherlock —a fever dream of clockwork ornithopters, labyrinthine conspiracies, and a Florentine genius who fights the Pope with a tank built out of church bells. Da Vinci-s Demons
Three seasons. Thirty episodes. One perfect, chaotic vision. Here is why Da Vinci’s Demons deserves your attention, even a decade later. The year is 1477. A young, arrogant, and impossibly handsome Leonardo da Vinci (Tom Riley) is at the height of his creative powers in Florence. He is not yet the old master of the Mona Lisa ; he is a rock star. He is a heretic, a brawler, a lover, and a genius who is bored by the slow pace of human progress. For the first two seasons, the mystery of
8/10 (Perfect first two seasons, messy final act). Created by David S
It is a visceral experience. It is a show that believes, with every fiber of its being, that a man with a quill can change the world faster than a man with a sword.
But Leo has a ghost: his mother, Caterina, who vanished when he was a child. This personal quest for the truth collides with a global conspiracy known as the and the “Book of Leaves” —a mythical repository of all knowledge (a stand-in for the actual Codex Atlanticus ). To find his mother and the Book, Leo must battle the ruthless Pope Sixtus IV, navigate the political snake pit of the Medici bank, and invent the future one impossible gadget at a time. The Character: Not Your Old Master’s Da Vinci Tom Riley’s performance is the anchor of the storm. His Leonardo is a whirlwind of ADHD-fueled mania. He talks too fast, fights like a brawler, and sees the world in exploded diagrams. When he looks at a wall, he sees the scaffolding behind it. When he looks at a bird, he sees the torque and lift of a flying machine.