This '90s Fantasy Series Put a New Twist on the Police Procedural, and It's Now Free To Watch

Long before prestige TV claimed the tortured immortal as its personal property, television was already experimenting with the type. Forever Knight showed up in the same late-night ecosystem as Homicide, Twin Peaks, The X-Files, and NYPD Blue, when shows were allowed to brood and assume the audience could keep up. It aired late enough to feel faintly improper as part of CBS' Crimetime After Primetime cavalcade of shows that included Sweating Bullets (aka Tropical Heat), The Exile, Silk Stalkings, Scene of the Crime, Urban Angel, and Fly by Night.

You can also sense Interview with the Vampire casting its influence over it, less in the romance and more in the exhaustion. Not the spectacle of vampirism or the boredom of being long-lived, but the weight of living too long with your own mistakes. This wasn’t about glamor. It was about endurance. A vampire story that behaved like a police drama and a police drama that behaved like a confession was the perfect mix.

What Is 'Forever Knight' About?

Forever Knight grew out of the 1989 TV movie Nick Knight, which starred Rick Springfield and introduced the idea of a vampire working homicide to keep his darker instincts in check. The series deepened that premise into a moody, patient drama about guilt, restraint, and the exhausting work of choosing to be better night after night. Detective Nick Knight (Geraint Wyn Davies) is not chasing a cure. He’s chasing redemption. He works in homicide because it forces him to look at violence head-on, not indulge in it. Every crime scene is a reminder of what he used to do without thinking or mercy. Every arrest is a small attempt to balance a ledger that will never zero out.

The show treats that choice with respect. Being a cop isn’t a gimmick or a clever hook, but an exercise in discipline. Nick submits himself to rules because he doesn’t trust his instincts or his desire for blood. He needs structure the way other people need sleep. When he slips, the show doesn’t soften it. What makes the premise work is patience; episodes don’t rush him toward clarity, and Nick doesn’t arrive at breakthroughs. He survives for long stretches and manages to get through nights (or days). Redemption here isn’t a destination. It becomes a routine where he tries not to ruin the few connections he still has.

'Forever Knight' Delivers a Charming and Dangerous Villain With LaCroix

In Forever Knight, LaCroix (Nigel Bennett), the vampire who turned Nick, isn’t chasing him to destroy him. He’s chasing him to remind him who he used to be, and that distinction matters. LaCroix embodies the vampire chic that Nick refuses to indulge in anymore: Power without apology, and appetite without guilt. His charm carries a warning label, not because it’s new, but because Nick recognizes it, and that's the problem.

What they have doesn’t resemble a rivalry so much as an argument that never wrapped up. It just keeps restarting, louder, meaner, and more personal every time LaCroix shows up to mess with Nick. LaCroix doesn’t need to win arguments; he just needs to be present. He needs Nick to remember how easy everything once was, and how good it felt to stop pretending to care.

The show never frames LaCroix as temptation alone. He’s proof that Nick’s past isn’t buried, just managed. The incident that changed everything was when LaCroix tricked Nick into killing an innocent ballerina in 1890 to shatter his moral resolve. This event led Nick to vow never to kill a human again. LaCroix is what Nick will become if he stops trying to redeem himself.

Schanke Is the Anchor Nick Can’t Admit He Needs

Detective Don Schanke (John Kapelos) is the show’s most human element, which is exactly why he’s dangerous to Nick. He’s observant without being suspicious, loyal without being naïve. He notices patterns but assumes decency first. That trust is a risk Nick never fully consents to taking. Their partnership works because it’s grounded in routine, like coffee or bad jokes. Schanke doesn’t need grand gestures to believe in someone; he believes through consistency. That’s a problem for a man hiding centuries of blood behind a badge and a trench coat.

The tension isn’t about whether Schanke will find out that Nick's a vampire. It’s about what it would cost Nick if he did. The show understands that secrets don’t just protect the secret-holder. They protect relationships from collapsing under their own weight. Nick keeps his distance, not out of arrogance, but rather of fear.

Atmosphere Over Answers, Consequence Over Comfort

Forever Knight trusts mood more than mechanics. Jazz drifts through scenes like a thought you can’t finish. Lighting stays low, not to hide flaws, but to let them breathe. Flashbacks don’t glamorize the past. They indict it with immortality being grim rather than glamorous. The show resists easy romance or tidy story arcs. Characters change in increments that feel earned or not at all. Some nights end unresolved, and some mistakes don’t come with lessons.

That’s why the series is still fondly remembered. It didn’t chase trends or hammer home its themes. It trusted viewers to sit with discomfort and unfinished thoughts. In a genre that often races toward absolution, Forever Knight stayed with the more complicated idea that you can't erase the past. You just carry it, and if you’re lucky, you'll choose better the next time.