The Plague: Requiem, a Tale of Hope in the Midst of Cruelty

All you need is a body to get started. Little Hugo and his older sister Amicia de Rune have abandoned their house in 14th-century France to seek refuge in the region.

Amicia and Hugo go along the coast of the Mediterranean to a city that seems untouched by the horrors of the Hundred Years’ War.

The Black Death. The first victim that Amicia discovers is crumpled in the dark, their face marred and deformed by the telltale marks of the plague: dark, necrotized flesh, and pus-filled pimples.

One dead body inevitably leads to the discovery of another. Moreover, there is another. Another example.

Amicia soon finds herself sifting through piles of bodies in an old stone auditorium and the alleys surrounding it, where the onset of the plague has been kept secret from the locals.

The original “A Plague Tale,” “A Plague Tale: Innocence,” came out in 2019, when stories about a medieval outbreak didn’t bring to mind the all-too-realistic visions.

Thankfully, the over-the-top expressionist style used in “Requiem” prevents its horrors from being too realistic, even though they are set in a bloody 14th century.

Amicia’s plight to protect her younger brother, whose cursed blood holds mysterious powers, resumes immediately following the events of “Innocence.”

The catharsis “Requiem” delivers a valuable salve, even if pandemic fiction may seem like the last thing spectators need right now.