With the final episode, "Chosen," comes many questions and ideas to discuss. What is the overarching theme/ideal in Buffy? Kaveney (and one of the featurettes on the DVD) suggest the possibility of Buffy as revisionist feminist mythology. But can a feminist myth be created by a man? Perhaps. Another idea suggested on the DVD featurette intrigued me more, however. That was the idea of community. Throughout the series, we are shown Buffy as a solitary figure, despite her band of loyal friends. Her battles always seem to boil down to just Buffy and the Big Bad. The writers worked so hard to show Buffy as lonely that they did everything but play the sad-going-away-music from "The Incredible Hulk" TV show. Yet with Buffy's realization that much of her solitude was self-inflicted ("Touched") comes a greater understanding: she can do something about it. When the Potentials are empowered as Slayers, Buffy becomes one of many. She is no longer special in the all-by-myself sort of way. She is no longer the one-woman doorstop against the portal to Hell. Ideally, the community of Slayers can work in tandem to defeat evil. Not only is Buffy no longer alone, she is now linked in a very special way to something that is worldwide. Her horizons just got a lot bigger than Sunnydale and its pesky Hellmouth.
I argue for community as the overarching theme because it is the one thing that has been present from episode 1 ("Welcome to the Hellmouth.") Buffy, Willow, Xander, Cordelia, and even Joyce were each looking for community, their own circle of friends and acceptance, a place where they can find identity. Even the monsters that the Scooby Gang faced during the "high school is hell" phase of the series were manifestations of the fears of students who were simply looking for a place to belong. For Buffy, finding community took the entire series. And why shouldn't it? If that was truly her quest as the hero, it seems only right that she only find it at the end of everything.
As for Dr. Berry's suggestion that Buffy is the television version of the Romantic novel, well, I remain unconvinced. For one thing, it seems to me as a writer that each season has its own narrative arc with climax and conclusion. While I realize that the sprawling Romantic novel has many subplots and crests and troughs of conflict, I think there are too many in a seven season series to make one giant novel. Perhaps, Buffy is more of a seven-book set. Another factor that hurts the massive-Buffy novel idea is the number of continuity errors in the series. Buffy has more dates of birth than anyone I've ever read about. If vampires don't breathe, why does The First hold Spike underwater to torture him? Why is there an episode about how The First's rise is all resurrected Buffy's fault, and then it is never mentioned again? While I realize that it is often best not to ask these questions and just sit back and enjoy the fun, I do think that these inconsistencies detract from the whole novel idea. To say that Buffy is Joss Whedon's attempt to televise his great, novel-like vision would be to suggest that he had a clear plan for a seven season series when he wrote "Welcome to the Hellmouth." I find this unlikely. A sprawling, Romantic novel may have many subplots and side characters, but ultimately, it should all tie together.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
The Cheese Stands Alone
All of the conflict and dissension that has been building amongst the Scooby Gang in Season 7 comes to a climax in "Empty Places." As the town of Sunnydale is emptied of all its residents, the Summers home is going through its own expulsion. After the badly executed attack on Caleb, Buffy proposes yet another open attack on the winery. The Gang and Potentials revolt, and Buffy is kicked out of her house...and out of the club. The scene of the mutiny resembles some sort of Slayer intervention, and in many ways, it is. While the motives of The Gang seem somewhat less than pure, the resulting solitude for Buffy serves a greater purpose. Perhaps the opportunity to be physically alone gives Buffy the chance to contemplate her lonely status as the Slayer ("Touched.")
Once again, we have Spike as Truth Speaker. This is a role that is played by multiple characters over the entire series (Anya, Cordelia, Spike, Andrew, etc.) While Buffy's epiphany about her own culpability in her solitary status is something she comes to on her own, it is Spike who reminds her of the power and nobility in her role as Slayer. After deciding (with Spike's prompting, of course) to return to her Potentials, Buffy finds the Super Scythe (my name for it, anyway) and rescues the remaining Potentials. ("End of Days") Her return to the group seems to equal her return to power and clear-thinking because she is soon full of ideas, a plan not to hold back The First, but to defeat it.
Once again, we have Spike as Truth Speaker. This is a role that is played by multiple characters over the entire series (Anya, Cordelia, Spike, Andrew, etc.) While Buffy's epiphany about her own culpability in her solitary status is something she comes to on her own, it is Spike who reminds her of the power and nobility in her role as Slayer. After deciding (with Spike's prompting, of course) to return to her Potentials, Buffy finds the Super Scythe (my name for it, anyway) and rescues the remaining Potentials. ("End of Days") Her return to the group seems to equal her return to power and clear-thinking because she is soon full of ideas, a plan not to hold back The First, but to defeat it.
Divided We Fall
In the three episodes we watched for Tuesday ("Potential," "Lies My Parents Told Me," and "Dirty Girls"), we see the Scooby Gang and their army of Potentials become increasingly divided. While it may be argued that they shared the same overarching purpose (fighting evil, or at least, The First), they vary widely on methods and motives. The Summers House is so full of anger, jealousy, revenge, confusion, and loneliness that it threatens to implode without any help from The First.
"Potential" focuses on Dawn and her neverending search for identity. When she is told is a Potential Slayer, however, she does not greet the news with joy or relief. Later, when she realizes that it is not her, but Amamda, who is the Potential she seems even broodier. Though Xander tries to soothe her wounded feelings with a heart-to-heart, Dawn feelings about her "nobody" status remain ambivalent. This seems ironic to me. Dawn was very disturbed (understandably) when she was told in Season 5 that she was The Key. She insisted time and again that she was just a normal teenage girl. Now, suddenly, that's no good either. Perhaps Dawn serves a reminder of how all humans crave what they cannot have. Regardless of any deeper meaning her inner conflict may provide, however, Dawn's discontent is just one example of the rising emotional chaos at 1630 Revello Drive.
In "Lies My Parents Told Me," the Scoobies' lack of unity makes its first major manifestation. When Giles is unable to remove Spike's trigger, he allows himself to be influenced by Wood, whose motives are far from pure. Giles lies to Buffy (could Giles be another of the "parents" referred to in the episode's title?) and keeps her occupied while Wood attempts to kill Spike. Though Giles is not always around, he has always been viewed as at least an ally, if not leader. This betrayal of Buffy for what Giles deems the greater good is further evidence of the breakdown of the Scooby Gang in a way we've not yet seen. Unlike Angel, Willow, or any of the other Scoobies-Gone-Bad, Giles is under no spell. He is not possessed by some demon. He simply decides that he is right and Buffy is wrong and acts on it. His actions foreshadow further rifts in the Scooby Gang unity.
"Dirty Girls" serves as a sort of culmination of the deterioration of the Gang and Buffy's status as Fearless Leader. With the Potentials and Giles questioning her judgement and Faith being added to the already volatile mix, Buffy leads her gang of misfits into a fight with Caleb. When the confrontation ends badly, Buffy is left with the blame. But is it really all her fault? Has she become some power-crazed dictator? I think not. Once again, the Gang has forgotten the pressures of being, not only the Slayer, but also the glue that holds the fight together. In addition to those pressures, Buffy has also temporarily lost her biggest supporter, Xander, and by association, Willow. Xander's loyalty will be shaken by his life-changing injury, and Willow, always soft-hearted when it comes to Xander, will go the way of her one-eyed friend.
"Potential" focuses on Dawn and her neverending search for identity. When she is told is a Potential Slayer, however, she does not greet the news with joy or relief. Later, when she realizes that it is not her, but Amamda, who is the Potential she seems even broodier. Though Xander tries to soothe her wounded feelings with a heart-to-heart, Dawn feelings about her "nobody" status remain ambivalent. This seems ironic to me. Dawn was very disturbed (understandably) when she was told in Season 5 that she was The Key. She insisted time and again that she was just a normal teenage girl. Now, suddenly, that's no good either. Perhaps Dawn serves a reminder of how all humans crave what they cannot have. Regardless of any deeper meaning her inner conflict may provide, however, Dawn's discontent is just one example of the rising emotional chaos at 1630 Revello Drive.
In "Lies My Parents Told Me," the Scoobies' lack of unity makes its first major manifestation. When Giles is unable to remove Spike's trigger, he allows himself to be influenced by Wood, whose motives are far from pure. Giles lies to Buffy (could Giles be another of the "parents" referred to in the episode's title?) and keeps her occupied while Wood attempts to kill Spike. Though Giles is not always around, he has always been viewed as at least an ally, if not leader. This betrayal of Buffy for what Giles deems the greater good is further evidence of the breakdown of the Scooby Gang in a way we've not yet seen. Unlike Angel, Willow, or any of the other Scoobies-Gone-Bad, Giles is under no spell. He is not possessed by some demon. He simply decides that he is right and Buffy is wrong and acts on it. His actions foreshadow further rifts in the Scooby Gang unity.
"Dirty Girls" serves as a sort of culmination of the deterioration of the Gang and Buffy's status as Fearless Leader. With the Potentials and Giles questioning her judgement and Faith being added to the already volatile mix, Buffy leads her gang of misfits into a fight with Caleb. When the confrontation ends badly, Buffy is left with the blame. But is it really all her fault? Has she become some power-crazed dictator? I think not. Once again, the Gang has forgotten the pressures of being, not only the Slayer, but also the glue that holds the fight together. In addition to those pressures, Buffy has also temporarily lost her biggest supporter, Xander, and by association, Willow. Xander's loyalty will be shaken by his life-changing injury, and Willow, always soft-hearted when it comes to Xander, will go the way of her one-eyed friend.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Two Men Enter, One Man Leaves
"Him," the episode we watched in class on Tuesday follows Dawn, Buffy, and the Gang as each female member is struck in turn by a love spell. Within a matter a hours, the group is divided and in danger due to the effects of a high school letterman's jacket. In the end, however, Buffy is able to shake off the spell when someone she loves is in peril. This foreshadows the events that follow in the episodes we watched for Thursday.
In "Conversations With Dead People," the Scoobies are visited separately by disconcerting figures, some of whom are sent by the nefarious First. While Willow and Dawn are both tormented by apparitions who know their deepest thoughts and secrets, Buffy encounters a newbie vamp named Webs whom she knew in high school. Though they are all disturbed by their individual experiences, it is Buffy who takes charge. She slays Webs and realizes that she must find out whether Spike is biting again. Buffy's role is about to change from Mother to General, and her ability to adapt to quickly changing circumstances is about to be tested beyond a blast-from-the-past vamp and a few ghostly baddies.
Buffy's transformation from Mother-Guidance Counselor-Slayer to Commander-in-Chief of the Potentials Army becomes complete in "Showtime." In a moment reminiscent of great motivating pre-battle movie speeches, Buffy rouses her gang of misfit future Slayers by promising that while hell may swallow them up, it would choke on her. When Buffy kills the Uber-Vamp in front of the Potentials, she takes a huge step not only in allaying their fears, but in establishing herself as the leader. It is hard to imagine the old Buffy putting her powers on display as she does in Xander's construction site. Apparently the days of secrecy are over. Also crucial to Buffy's new position as Chief-Slayer-In-Charge is complete unity with her closest confidants, Willow and Xander. They are so united, in fact, that they create their plan to defeat the Uber-Vamp in front of the potentials...in front of the potentials. Using Willow's abilities, they literally become "of one mind." If Buffy is going to be the teacher of the Potentials, she must first establish her credibility and authority, which she does with her Uber-Vamp exhibition. It seems that her time mentoring Dawn and the Sunnydale High School kids was merely a warm-up for the tutoring job she is now undertaking.
Side Note: Am I the only person who laughed hysterically at the Thunderdome references?
In "Conversations With Dead People," the Scoobies are visited separately by disconcerting figures, some of whom are sent by the nefarious First. While Willow and Dawn are both tormented by apparitions who know their deepest thoughts and secrets, Buffy encounters a newbie vamp named Webs whom she knew in high school. Though they are all disturbed by their individual experiences, it is Buffy who takes charge. She slays Webs and realizes that she must find out whether Spike is biting again. Buffy's role is about to change from Mother to General, and her ability to adapt to quickly changing circumstances is about to be tested beyond a blast-from-the-past vamp and a few ghostly baddies.
Buffy's transformation from Mother-Guidance Counselor-Slayer to Commander-in-Chief of the Potentials Army becomes complete in "Showtime." In a moment reminiscent of great motivating pre-battle movie speeches, Buffy rouses her gang of misfit future Slayers by promising that while hell may swallow them up, it would choke on her. When Buffy kills the Uber-Vamp in front of the Potentials, she takes a huge step not only in allaying their fears, but in establishing herself as the leader. It is hard to imagine the old Buffy putting her powers on display as she does in Xander's construction site. Apparently the days of secrecy are over. Also crucial to Buffy's new position as Chief-Slayer-In-Charge is complete unity with her closest confidants, Willow and Xander. They are so united, in fact, that they create their plan to defeat the Uber-Vamp in front of the potentials...in front of the potentials. Using Willow's abilities, they literally become "of one mind." If Buffy is going to be the teacher of the Potentials, she must first establish her credibility and authority, which she does with her Uber-Vamp exhibition. It seems that her time mentoring Dawn and the Sunnydale High School kids was merely a warm-up for the tutoring job she is now undertaking.
Side Note: Am I the only person who laughed hysterically at the Thunderdome references?
Monday, April 27, 2009
Death and Taxes
We've made it through six and a half seasons of Buffy, and we're still talking about destiny (or at least, I am.) Buffy's not the only one who struggles with the concept, however. With the three episodes we watched for Tuesday, we see the Scooby Gang struggle with destiny and her close cousin, fate.
In "Beneath You," Nancy is running from a giant, killer earthworm demon bent on her destruction. While the Gang initially thinks that this might be the danger from beneath that Buffy fears, it turns out to be Nancy's cursed ex-boyfriend instead. It could be argued that the Earthworm of Death (my name for it, not theirs) could be a symbol of the inescapability of the Gang's (and Sunnydale's) fate. It seems that it is no longer only Buffy's destiny to protect Sunnydale and the world. The Scooby Gang has become an intrinsic part of the good vs. evil struggle at the Hellmouth. Perhaps their resurrection of Buffy united them in a deeper way than their loose confederation as "helpers" had ever done. Even though Willow is geographically distant from her fellow fighters, she, too, is linked to the battle which is forthcoming.
Buffy gets a very personal reminder about fate in "Help" when she attempts to save precog Cassie from her envisioned death. Though she fights fate at every turn, there is no escaping death. This episode points to the idea that Buffy's "deaths" were not "her time" as she was always resurrected. Cassie died despite every effort made by Buffy and the Scoobies to prevent said death. Ultimately, her heart just stopped, and there was no bringing her back. Perhaps Buffy can find comfort in the idea that she was brought back for a "purpose." There doesn't appear to be anything random about the Buffyverse, and if fate brought Buffy back, then it must be her destiny to do, well, something. I'm guessing it will involve saving the world.
"Selfless" explores the idea, not only of destiny, but also the inevitability of consequences. Anya (or Aud or Anyanka) seems destined from the beginning to become a vengeance demon. She certainly has a natural gift, not simply for magic, but for sweet revenge. As we are shown her history, her decision to return to her previous lifestyle (as Anyanka) and even her choice of M.O. (literally ripping out the frat boys' hearts) seem mitigated (or at least, slightly more understandable.) Ultimately, however, Anya's decision to revoke her magic has a cost, and this cost is inesapable and irreversible: death. Anya watches D'Hoffryn kill her friend, Halfrek, and is forever changed by her actions and their consequences.
In "Beneath You," Nancy is running from a giant, killer earthworm demon bent on her destruction. While the Gang initially thinks that this might be the danger from beneath that Buffy fears, it turns out to be Nancy's cursed ex-boyfriend instead. It could be argued that the Earthworm of Death (my name for it, not theirs) could be a symbol of the inescapability of the Gang's (and Sunnydale's) fate. It seems that it is no longer only Buffy's destiny to protect Sunnydale and the world. The Scooby Gang has become an intrinsic part of the good vs. evil struggle at the Hellmouth. Perhaps their resurrection of Buffy united them in a deeper way than their loose confederation as "helpers" had ever done. Even though Willow is geographically distant from her fellow fighters, she, too, is linked to the battle which is forthcoming.
Buffy gets a very personal reminder about fate in "Help" when she attempts to save precog Cassie from her envisioned death. Though she fights fate at every turn, there is no escaping death. This episode points to the idea that Buffy's "deaths" were not "her time" as she was always resurrected. Cassie died despite every effort made by Buffy and the Scoobies to prevent said death. Ultimately, her heart just stopped, and there was no bringing her back. Perhaps Buffy can find comfort in the idea that she was brought back for a "purpose." There doesn't appear to be anything random about the Buffyverse, and if fate brought Buffy back, then it must be her destiny to do, well, something. I'm guessing it will involve saving the world.
"Selfless" explores the idea, not only of destiny, but also the inevitability of consequences. Anya (or Aud or Anyanka) seems destined from the beginning to become a vengeance demon. She certainly has a natural gift, not simply for magic, but for sweet revenge. As we are shown her history, her decision to return to her previous lifestyle (as Anyanka) and even her choice of M.O. (literally ripping out the frat boys' hearts) seem mitigated (or at least, slightly more understandable.) Ultimately, however, Anya's decision to revoke her magic has a cost, and this cost is inesapable and irreversible: death. Anya watches D'Hoffryn kill her friend, Halfrek, and is forever changed by her actions and their consequences.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Because I Said So
A Side Note: For the past six years, the Buffyverse has been a very dark place. There are no happy endings or hokey hugs in Scooby gang adventures. So why did Season 6 end with Xander saving the world with a "love conquers all" tactic that nearly put me into a diabetic coma? Could it have had something to do with the fact that this was the first season finale not written by Joss Whedon? Just something to ponder. I was also a little disappointed by the whole Giles-tricks-Willow-into-stealing-his-magic storyline. I could see exactly what he was up to, so why couldn't Willow? On the upside, Spike's trials to regain his soul were the right twist to keep the viewer guessing.
With the final episode of Season 6 ("Grave"), Buffy officially takes on her role as crone. As she and Dawn are trapped in the hole fighting demons, Buffy comes to recognize the importance of passing her knowledge (about Slaying and other otherwise) to Dawn, regardless of Dawn's non-Slayer status. Up to this point in the show, Buffy has treated Dawn's education as being either's someone else's resonsibility or as a burden she tries to avoid. As she watches Dawn fight alongside her, she realizes the fulfillment and meaning she could find in her own life, if she were to serve as Dawn's mentor. "Lessons" (7.1) continues this idea as it begins with Buffy instructing Dawn in slaying tactics, even allowing Dawn to fight an actual vamp.
Initially in Dawn's and Buffy's relationship, it would seem that Buffy tried to follow her mother's example in mothering Dawn. Joyce was more about protecting Buffy than she was about listening to or preparing Buffy (I am mostly referring to the time before she realized that Buffy was the Slayer.) Buffy's answer to everything was to keep Dawn at home where she is "safe," frequently leaving her in the care of others, like Spike or Tara, while she goes off and fights evil. With Buffy's epiphany regarding Dawn's capability and her own need to mentor came a realization that she was repeating her own mother's mistakes. With the beginning of Season 7, we see Buffy recognizing Dawn's capabilities and working to help her become more self-sufficient. Apparently, the writers think this style of parenting is more effective because as Season 7 progresses, Dawn improves from her previously whiny, clepto self.
What seems significant to me is that these major changes in Buffy occur while Giles is absent. Even Spike has fled to his soul quest by the time Buffy turns the corner personally. Earlier in the series, I talked about how Buffy was "controlled" by the men in her life. It seemed that her amazing power was something that was simply harnessed by powerful men (like the Watcher's Council.) Beginning with Buffy's revelation in Season 5 about the Council (when they attempt to pump her for info on Glory) and continuing with the self-realization as she dies to protect Dawn and the world, we see Buffy's growth independent of men. Her changes in "parenting" Dawn are something she arrives at on her own, without guidance from some male sage. Buffy is coming into her own, not just making her own decisions, but also basing those decisions on sound judgement...her own.
With the final episode of Season 6 ("Grave"), Buffy officially takes on her role as crone. As she and Dawn are trapped in the hole fighting demons, Buffy comes to recognize the importance of passing her knowledge (about Slaying and other otherwise) to Dawn, regardless of Dawn's non-Slayer status. Up to this point in the show, Buffy has treated Dawn's education as being either's someone else's resonsibility or as a burden she tries to avoid. As she watches Dawn fight alongside her, she realizes the fulfillment and meaning she could find in her own life, if she were to serve as Dawn's mentor. "Lessons" (7.1) continues this idea as it begins with Buffy instructing Dawn in slaying tactics, even allowing Dawn to fight an actual vamp.
Initially in Dawn's and Buffy's relationship, it would seem that Buffy tried to follow her mother's example in mothering Dawn. Joyce was more about protecting Buffy than she was about listening to or preparing Buffy (I am mostly referring to the time before she realized that Buffy was the Slayer.) Buffy's answer to everything was to keep Dawn at home where she is "safe," frequently leaving her in the care of others, like Spike or Tara, while she goes off and fights evil. With Buffy's epiphany regarding Dawn's capability and her own need to mentor came a realization that she was repeating her own mother's mistakes. With the beginning of Season 7, we see Buffy recognizing Dawn's capabilities and working to help her become more self-sufficient. Apparently, the writers think this style of parenting is more effective because as Season 7 progresses, Dawn improves from her previously whiny, clepto self.
What seems significant to me is that these major changes in Buffy occur while Giles is absent. Even Spike has fled to his soul quest by the time Buffy turns the corner personally. Earlier in the series, I talked about how Buffy was "controlled" by the men in her life. It seemed that her amazing power was something that was simply harnessed by powerful men (like the Watcher's Council.) Beginning with Buffy's revelation in Season 5 about the Council (when they attempt to pump her for info on Glory) and continuing with the self-realization as she dies to protect Dawn and the world, we see Buffy's growth independent of men. Her changes in "parenting" Dawn are something she arrives at on her own, without guidance from some male sage. Buffy is coming into her own, not just making her own decisions, but also basing those decisions on sound judgement...her own.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
And Now For A Very Special Episode Of...
The three episodes we watched for Thursday ("Wrecked," "Dead Things," and "Older and Far Away") could be grouped together and renamed, "Joss Whedon Does the After School Special." All three deal with addictions and dysfunctions, but in a uniquely Whedon-way. There are no happy-ending hugs in the Buffyverse. Rather Whedon explores weaknesses already present in the characters and follows them through to their natural manifestation: dysfunction.
Perhaps the most powerful of the personal undoings is Willow's. Generally seen as the most steady and reliable of the Scoobies, Willow's character takes a turn down the dark path in "Wrecked." This episode seemed especially significant to me because it revisits Willow's insecurity about her place, not only in the Scooby Gang, but also in society. Regardless of what she does or who she becomes, Willow continues to see herself as the shy, awkward girl we met in Season 1. Though Willow has been quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with (in more ways than one), she seems unable to escape her past. Though it was mentioned in class that Willow might also be on the female hero's path, I would argue against that idea. Willow's purpose remains as unclear (at least to her) now as it did five seasons ago. She is brilliant and powerful and many other superlatives, but unlike Buffy, she is unable to recognize/harness those abilities to some specific greater purpose. Willow lacks a destiny.
"Dead Things" follows the dysfunction of someone not in the Scooby Gang, namely Warren and his obssession with the perfect girlfriend. Though this may seem unrelated to my discussion of the Gang and their weaknesses, it is actually closely linked. Like Willow, Warren (and his clueless companions) were on the outside in high school. They were the nerds. Warren's desire to ensnare the ideal woman seems to be all about redefining who he is and showing everyone that he is no longer the outsider.
"Older and Far Away" is probably my favorite episode of this season so far. (How could you not love Clement?) Though the focus is meant to be on Dawn and her wish that one would leave her, I was more intrigued by Buffy and Spike's interaction. Buffy's attraction to and relationship with Spike could also fall into the dysfunction category, and she certainly seems to view it that way. Despite her best efforts to never sleep with him again, she keeps ending up back in his arms. This, of course, begs the question: What keeps drawing her back? I suppose there is the fact that Spike is already dead. Unlike her mother, he can't die. There is also forbidden nature of the relationship that makes it exciting. I submit, however, that what keeps bringing Buffy back for more (besides the fact that Spike is quite attractive) is the fact that Spike understands Buffy and her destiny in a way that her friends and family cannot. Like Angel, Spike is connected to Buffy's otherworldly world in a deep and meaningful way. He understands the killing and fighting and, more importantly, the power. Spike and Buffy, both, are extremely powerful beings (as their building demolishing sex demonstrated), and there is necessarily a kinship because of that. Because of Spike's power, Buffy does not have to feel responsible for him in the way that she does her friends and family. Ultimately, no matter how self-destructive a relationship with Spike might appear to the Scoobies, it must provide some sort of relief (or even catharsis?) for Buffy.
My favorite aspect of Whedon's addiction trilogy is that nothing is simple. There is no good/bad, right/wrong, which is what keeps these episodes from being an after school special. Willow's being a witch has never been portrayed as a bad thing, and, in fact, Tara remains a witch even when Willow swears it off. It is only because witchcraft drives Willow to hurt others that it become a bad thing, and then only in Willow's case. With regard to Warren...sure hypnotizing your ex-girlfriend to make her your sex-slave is never a good thing, but the desire to be loved and viewed as valuable, and dare I say popular? Very normal, and very human. Even Spike and Buffy's relationship is not portrayed as evil. Yes, he tried to kill her...more than once...many times even. But Spike is different now, and in the world of BtVS, being the bad guy is not necessarily a permanent job description.
Perhaps the most powerful of the personal undoings is Willow's. Generally seen as the most steady and reliable of the Scoobies, Willow's character takes a turn down the dark path in "Wrecked." This episode seemed especially significant to me because it revisits Willow's insecurity about her place, not only in the Scooby Gang, but also in society. Regardless of what she does or who she becomes, Willow continues to see herself as the shy, awkward girl we met in Season 1. Though Willow has been quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with (in more ways than one), she seems unable to escape her past. Though it was mentioned in class that Willow might also be on the female hero's path, I would argue against that idea. Willow's purpose remains as unclear (at least to her) now as it did five seasons ago. She is brilliant and powerful and many other superlatives, but unlike Buffy, she is unable to recognize/harness those abilities to some specific greater purpose. Willow lacks a destiny.
"Dead Things" follows the dysfunction of someone not in the Scooby Gang, namely Warren and his obssession with the perfect girlfriend. Though this may seem unrelated to my discussion of the Gang and their weaknesses, it is actually closely linked. Like Willow, Warren (and his clueless companions) were on the outside in high school. They were the nerds. Warren's desire to ensnare the ideal woman seems to be all about redefining who he is and showing everyone that he is no longer the outsider.
"Older and Far Away" is probably my favorite episode of this season so far. (How could you not love Clement?) Though the focus is meant to be on Dawn and her wish that one would leave her, I was more intrigued by Buffy and Spike's interaction. Buffy's attraction to and relationship with Spike could also fall into the dysfunction category, and she certainly seems to view it that way. Despite her best efforts to never sleep with him again, she keeps ending up back in his arms. This, of course, begs the question: What keeps drawing her back? I suppose there is the fact that Spike is already dead. Unlike her mother, he can't die. There is also forbidden nature of the relationship that makes it exciting. I submit, however, that what keeps bringing Buffy back for more (besides the fact that Spike is quite attractive) is the fact that Spike understands Buffy and her destiny in a way that her friends and family cannot. Like Angel, Spike is connected to Buffy's otherworldly world in a deep and meaningful way. He understands the killing and fighting and, more importantly, the power. Spike and Buffy, both, are extremely powerful beings (as their building demolishing sex demonstrated), and there is necessarily a kinship because of that. Because of Spike's power, Buffy does not have to feel responsible for him in the way that she does her friends and family. Ultimately, no matter how self-destructive a relationship with Spike might appear to the Scoobies, it must provide some sort of relief (or even catharsis?) for Buffy.
My favorite aspect of Whedon's addiction trilogy is that nothing is simple. There is no good/bad, right/wrong, which is what keeps these episodes from being an after school special. Willow's being a witch has never been portrayed as a bad thing, and, in fact, Tara remains a witch even when Willow swears it off. It is only because witchcraft drives Willow to hurt others that it become a bad thing, and then only in Willow's case. With regard to Warren...sure hypnotizing your ex-girlfriend to make her your sex-slave is never a good thing, but the desire to be loved and viewed as valuable, and dare I say popular? Very normal, and very human. Even Spike and Buffy's relationship is not portrayed as evil. Yes, he tried to kill her...more than once...many times even. But Spike is different now, and in the world of BtVS, being the bad guy is not necessarily a permanent job description.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Who's On First?
I am unsure what we are viewing for Tuesday since 6.6 is listed in the syllabus as "Bargaining Part Two," when in fact, it is "All The Way." I am also unsure what was shown since "Once More With Feeling" was moved to Tuesday class time. So I will write about "Bargaining Part One and Two," "All The Way," and "Once More With Feeling" in this blog. I will cover the next three on the syllabus in my next blog. They may be out of order, but I will cover everything I'm supposed to (I hope.)
I was especially intrigued by something that was in the Kaveney Chapter 5 reading. In the section on politics, Playdon suggests that political structure of the Scooby Gang is participative rather than hierarchial, and that only the evil organizations of the Buffyverse follow a hierarchial structure. This was demonstrated quite clearly in the two part episode, "Bargaining." Though Playdon argues that the "leader" of the Scooby Gang is a fluid position, the Scoobies themselves seem to see Buffy as their fearless leader. With her death, there is a shift in power. Though Willow is named by Xander as the "boss of us," the power shifts from member to member as they conspire to resurrect Buffy. In times of conscience, Xander leads. When they need a level head, Tara steps up to the plate. Willow is the decisive one, which is probably why she is seen as the leader by the Scoobies. Anya rarely serves as leader except possibly in the area of organization/planning, a skill which she possess when she is not panicking. Interestingly, Giles is rarely seen as the leader in the later seasons. He serves more of a consultant's role.
As the Scoobies put their plan into action, Willow leads them through the ritual, until she goes all snaky, that is. Then Tara steps in to stop Xander and Anya from stopping the ritual. When the demon gang interrupts and the Gang is forced to separate and flee, it is Anya and Tara who are able to find their way to the Magic Box unaided. Apparently, organized and clear-headed are a better combination than emotional and decisive.
With the return of Buffy in "All The Way" and "Once More With Feeling," one might expect Buffy to resume her role as Chief-Slayer-In-Charge. Traumatized by her return from Heaven, however, she takes a bit of a backseat and allows the others to fill in the gaps in her leadership. When Dawn sneaks out and gets into trouble "necking" with a vampire (pardon my pun), Buffy allows (nay, relies on) Giles to talk with Dawn and show her the error of her ways. Buffy's backseat role is revisited in "Once More With Feeling," as she laments the distance she has felt from her feelings and her life. When she offers herself up to Sweet, the nattily dressed demon who has taken Dawn captive, Spike, a Scoobie-come-lately, steps up to the leadership plate and rescues Buffy from her own apathy.
While these three episodes certainly support Playdon's idea of participative structure, they don't really address the idea of hierarchial structure as the structure of choice for Buffyverse Bads. Fortunately, I have whole blogs dedicated to this very topic. How convenient!
I was especially intrigued by something that was in the Kaveney Chapter 5 reading. In the section on politics, Playdon suggests that political structure of the Scooby Gang is participative rather than hierarchial, and that only the evil organizations of the Buffyverse follow a hierarchial structure. This was demonstrated quite clearly in the two part episode, "Bargaining." Though Playdon argues that the "leader" of the Scooby Gang is a fluid position, the Scoobies themselves seem to see Buffy as their fearless leader. With her death, there is a shift in power. Though Willow is named by Xander as the "boss of us," the power shifts from member to member as they conspire to resurrect Buffy. In times of conscience, Xander leads. When they need a level head, Tara steps up to the plate. Willow is the decisive one, which is probably why she is seen as the leader by the Scoobies. Anya rarely serves as leader except possibly in the area of organization/planning, a skill which she possess when she is not panicking. Interestingly, Giles is rarely seen as the leader in the later seasons. He serves more of a consultant's role.
As the Scoobies put their plan into action, Willow leads them through the ritual, until she goes all snaky, that is. Then Tara steps in to stop Xander and Anya from stopping the ritual. When the demon gang interrupts and the Gang is forced to separate and flee, it is Anya and Tara who are able to find their way to the Magic Box unaided. Apparently, organized and clear-headed are a better combination than emotional and decisive.
With the return of Buffy in "All The Way" and "Once More With Feeling," one might expect Buffy to resume her role as Chief-Slayer-In-Charge. Traumatized by her return from Heaven, however, she takes a bit of a backseat and allows the others to fill in the gaps in her leadership. When Dawn sneaks out and gets into trouble "necking" with a vampire (pardon my pun), Buffy allows (nay, relies on) Giles to talk with Dawn and show her the error of her ways. Buffy's backseat role is revisited in "Once More With Feeling," as she laments the distance she has felt from her feelings and her life. When she offers herself up to Sweet, the nattily dressed demon who has taken Dawn captive, Spike, a Scoobie-come-lately, steps up to the leadership plate and rescues Buffy from her own apathy.
While these three episodes certainly support Playdon's idea of participative structure, they don't really address the idea of hierarchial structure as the structure of choice for Buffyverse Bads. Fortunately, I have whole blogs dedicated to this very topic. How convenient!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Blood IS Thicker Than Water
I was interested in something that Locklin mentions in the beginning of his article: the idea of the mutual exclusivity of family and community. Locklin describes the argument that family must necessarily pursue the best interests of the family which may or may not (and probably not) align with the best interests of the community. While Buffy may have had to make decisions to benefit the community in the past (like when she sent Angel to Hell in order to save the world), she chooses family over community in the final episodes of season 5.
In "Spiral," Buffy's focus is entirely on protecting Dawn. Even though she knows what Dawn is, she is willing to risk everything, including the safety not only of oher friends but of the world, in order to protect her from Glory. Interestingly in this episode, Giles, who was initially sent to guide Buffy in her role as protector of the world, praises her on her ability to "follow her heart" at all costs. Ultimately, Buffy pays a price for her willingness to sacrifice everything to save Dawn. The ancient soldiers that surround the Scooby gang are murdered by Glory. Though Buffy had no problem killing these soldiers when they were attacking the Winnebago, she does seem to have a problem with their mass murder.
Apparently, the conflict between Buffy's destiny as Slayer and her committment to family is too much for her beleagured mind to take, and in "The Weight of the World," she collapses in on herself and withdraws into her own mind. When Willow enters Buffy's mind to retrieve her from her self-pity and guilt, it is still an emphasis on family that draws Buffy from her catatonia and not some sense of duty to the unsuspecting world. It seems that with the addition of Dawn, the world is only safe if its needs coincide with Dawn's since Giles' announcement of the need to kill Dawn is met with threats and denial from Buffy.
With "The Gift," Buffy makes the ultimate sacrifice for family. Though her choice to give her life does save the world, it appears to be motivated more by Buffy's desire to save her sister. It would certainly serve the community better to have Dawn die and keep its powerful Slayer, yet Buffy chooses to interpret the First Slayer's prophecy as a directive to dive into the swirling vortex.
In "Spiral," Buffy's focus is entirely on protecting Dawn. Even though she knows what Dawn is, she is willing to risk everything, including the safety not only of oher friends but of the world, in order to protect her from Glory. Interestingly in this episode, Giles, who was initially sent to guide Buffy in her role as protector of the world, praises her on her ability to "follow her heart" at all costs. Ultimately, Buffy pays a price for her willingness to sacrifice everything to save Dawn. The ancient soldiers that surround the Scooby gang are murdered by Glory. Though Buffy had no problem killing these soldiers when they were attacking the Winnebago, she does seem to have a problem with their mass murder.
Apparently, the conflict between Buffy's destiny as Slayer and her committment to family is too much for her beleagured mind to take, and in "The Weight of the World," she collapses in on herself and withdraws into her own mind. When Willow enters Buffy's mind to retrieve her from her self-pity and guilt, it is still an emphasis on family that draws Buffy from her catatonia and not some sense of duty to the unsuspecting world. It seems that with the addition of Dawn, the world is only safe if its needs coincide with Dawn's since Giles' announcement of the need to kill Dawn is met with threats and denial from Buffy.
With "The Gift," Buffy makes the ultimate sacrifice for family. Though her choice to give her life does save the world, it appears to be motivated more by Buffy's desire to save her sister. It would certainly serve the community better to have Dawn die and keep its powerful Slayer, yet Buffy chooses to interpret the First Slayer's prophecy as a directive to dive into the swirling vortex.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Death Becomes Her
As season 5 begins to wind down, we see a change in the tone of BtVS. Always dark and usually sardonic, the show takes an even darker turn with the death of Buffy's mother, Joyce. Though her mother has played a smaller role since Buffy left for college, she is still a steadying presence in Buffy's life. Never the all-wise counselor, her mother was at least a source of unconditional love ("Becoming Part 2," 2.22 notwithstanding). Season 4 may have ended with a solid affirmation of the Scoobies' union ("Restless"), but the addition of Dawn and the loss of Joyce in season 5 seem to point to a more isolated Buffy. She may be surrounded by friends, but ultimately, she is alone in her destiny. None of her friends are linked by fate to the eternal battle of good versus evil in the way that Buffy is (the only possible exceptions being Giles and Spike, if you count him as a friend.) Whatever is coming is in the end of the season (and by now, I'm sure we all know what that is), she will have to face it alone.
In "I Was Made To Love You," Buffy is reminded of her solitary status in her discussion with Warren and her final conversation with April, the love robot. Buffy relates to Warren's confusion when he didn't love the "perfect" mate. She understands April's frustration that Warren abandoned her without giving her an opportunity to "fix" whatever was wrong. Her failed relationship with Riley and the recognition that perhaps all her relationships are doomed to fail are underlying themes punctuated at the end of the episode with the death of Joyce. Buffy's loneliness is emphasized when she finds her mother while alone in the house. This continues in the next episode, "The Body," where Buffy must deal with the death of her mother alone. She has to call the paramedics, and in a scene that stretched my credibility more than some of the vampire stuff, she is left alone in the house with the body until the coroner arrives. Only when Giles arrives does she finally have some support, but even then, she seems very separate from Giles and her friends. When she tells Dawn of their mother's death, Dawn doesn't believe her, and Buffy is even more alone in her grief.
The death of Joyce also seems to mark the end of Buffy's childhood. She alone is now responsible for Dawn, whereas before, she carried the burden of Dawn's safety, while Joyce maintained Dawn's emotional support. As things get hairier with Glory and the Key, Buffy will go further into herself and ultimately face her destiny alone.
As Buffy becomes more isolated, she also becomes more independent. While Giles does come and promise to take care of the necessary paperwork so that Buffy may grieve, it is still Buffy alone who must deal with the real dirty work, such as saving Dawn from the undead guy in the morgue. As I mentioned in a previous blog, Whedon saw Dawn as Buffy's love interest in season 5, and Dawn certainly seems like a catalyst in Buffy's transformation into an independent, free-thinking Slayer. Buffy may learn in "Intervention" that her gift is death, but without Dawn to protect, she would never have had anyone on whom to bestow her gift.
In "I Was Made To Love You," Buffy is reminded of her solitary status in her discussion with Warren and her final conversation with April, the love robot. Buffy relates to Warren's confusion when he didn't love the "perfect" mate. She understands April's frustration that Warren abandoned her without giving her an opportunity to "fix" whatever was wrong. Her failed relationship with Riley and the recognition that perhaps all her relationships are doomed to fail are underlying themes punctuated at the end of the episode with the death of Joyce. Buffy's loneliness is emphasized when she finds her mother while alone in the house. This continues in the next episode, "The Body," where Buffy must deal with the death of her mother alone. She has to call the paramedics, and in a scene that stretched my credibility more than some of the vampire stuff, she is left alone in the house with the body until the coroner arrives. Only when Giles arrives does she finally have some support, but even then, she seems very separate from Giles and her friends. When she tells Dawn of their mother's death, Dawn doesn't believe her, and Buffy is even more alone in her grief.
The death of Joyce also seems to mark the end of Buffy's childhood. She alone is now responsible for Dawn, whereas before, she carried the burden of Dawn's safety, while Joyce maintained Dawn's emotional support. As things get hairier with Glory and the Key, Buffy will go further into herself and ultimately face her destiny alone.
As Buffy becomes more isolated, she also becomes more independent. While Giles does come and promise to take care of the necessary paperwork so that Buffy may grieve, it is still Buffy alone who must deal with the real dirty work, such as saving Dawn from the undead guy in the morgue. As I mentioned in a previous blog, Whedon saw Dawn as Buffy's love interest in season 5, and Dawn certainly seems like a catalyst in Buffy's transformation into an independent, free-thinking Slayer. Buffy may learn in "Intervention" that her gift is death, but without Dawn to protect, she would never have had anyone on whom to bestow her gift.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
It's What's On The Inside That Doesn't Count
With each season comes a new Big Bad, and season 5 brings Glory, a blonde haired beauty with a god's powers and a lunatic's temperament. Glory has a secret, however. She is also unassuming Ben (from the hospital.) As we learn later (after the episodes we've watched so far), Ben is an innocent in all of Glory's evil plans and doings. Unfortunately, Ben's innocence doesn't protect Buffy or Dawn. When Dawn confesses her identity to Ben ("Blood Ties"), she opens herself up to danger (and not just from the soon-to-appear Glory.) Once Ben knows who Dawn is, he is faced with a choice of how to proceed.
Dawn's storyline also progresses in these three episodes. With Riley gone, Buffy can focus her attention on protecting the Key (Dawn) from Glory. In the season 5 featurette on the DVD, the writers talk about how Dawn is Buffy's love interest in season 5, and Buffy certainly does shift most of her emotional energy to sister, even as she tries to take care of her ailing mother. Buffy sees Dawn as an innocent, regardless of the fact that she isn't really her sister. The origins of Dawn's inner power are irrelevant to Buffy. She sees only the innocent young girl.
Both Dawn and Ben are beings created to house a powerful force. Neither is completely aware or understands the power that they contain. Regardless of what their inner force does (in the case of Ben's inner Glory) or is capable of (Dawn as the Key), Dawn and Ben are seen as separate from the forces. Dawn and Ben possess no free will regarding the forces inside them and, therefore, are not held responsible for the actions/repurcussions of these inner beings. This seems to be a recurring theme in Buffy: Actions/appearances can only be judged as evil if you intentionally choose evil for evil's sake. The flip side of this rule is applied to Riley, who despite his conflicted feelings about Buffy, is judged in the wrong by the Slayer because of his choice to be serviced by vampire prostitutes. Even though Xander convinces Buffy to show him mercy, Riley is ultimately judged guilty by the gods of the Buffyverse (or at least the writers) as he and Buffy miss each other, and he flies away.
Dawn's storyline also progresses in these three episodes. With Riley gone, Buffy can focus her attention on protecting the Key (Dawn) from Glory. In the season 5 featurette on the DVD, the writers talk about how Dawn is Buffy's love interest in season 5, and Buffy certainly does shift most of her emotional energy to sister, even as she tries to take care of her ailing mother. Buffy sees Dawn as an innocent, regardless of the fact that she isn't really her sister. The origins of Dawn's inner power are irrelevant to Buffy. She sees only the innocent young girl.
Both Dawn and Ben are beings created to house a powerful force. Neither is completely aware or understands the power that they contain. Regardless of what their inner force does (in the case of Ben's inner Glory) or is capable of (Dawn as the Key), Dawn and Ben are seen as separate from the forces. Dawn and Ben possess no free will regarding the forces inside them and, therefore, are not held responsible for the actions/repurcussions of these inner beings. This seems to be a recurring theme in Buffy: Actions/appearances can only be judged as evil if you intentionally choose evil for evil's sake. The flip side of this rule is applied to Riley, who despite his conflicted feelings about Buffy, is judged in the wrong by the Slayer because of his choice to be serviced by vampire prostitutes. Even though Xander convinces Buffy to show him mercy, Riley is ultimately judged guilty by the gods of the Buffyverse (or at least the writers) as he and Buffy miss each other, and he flies away.
Monday, March 23, 2009
The Hard, Crunchy Shell With A Soft, Gooey Center
In BtVS, things are rarely how they appear. Angel is a vampire, but he's good. The mayor embraces a surface morality, but he's bad. It is not simply that the line between good and evil is blurred. Good and evil are often reversed in that appearances mean very little. In the Buffyverse, it is not so much who you are or what what you do, as it is what your motives are and whether or not you have free will.
Initially, in "Buffy vs. Dracula," the Scooby Gang is slightly star struck by the appearance of the infamous Dracula. Upon encountering him, they seem not so much afraid as wanting to ask for an autograph. Whether their awe is strictly from Dracula's mind trip or actual hero worship remains unclear. Whatever the case, Buffy and Xander are soon in Dracula's "thrall." Before the episode is over, Xander has led Buffy to Dracula, and she has not only allowed Drac to bite her, but also sucked his blood. Ultimately, however, she comes to her senses and defeats him. Neither Buffy nor Xander is held accountable for their actions since they were under the control of the legendary blood-sucker. The fact that they (or at least Buffy) did the "right" thing in the end seemed to erase her earlier wavering allegiances (a fact that it might serve Buffy to remember later with Riley (see 5.10 "Into The Woods.")
In "No Place Like Home," Buffy learns that Dawn is not really her sister. It is not revealed to her whether the "Key" (Dawn) is actually an evil force or good. Buffy, instead, looks at the surface innocence of the young girl/sister that she sees. This would seem to fly in the face of what I said earlier about appearances and motives, except that Dawn, in essence, lacks free will. She had no choice in becoming the human embodiment of this force. Her lack of choice equals innocence in the Buffyverse, and Buffy decides to protect her at all costs.
The final episode for Tuesday, "Fool for Love," explores the history of Spike, arguably the most morally ambigious character in Seasons 4 and 5. From the beginning of the series, we have been told that Spike was evil, highly entertaining, but evil. Since the addition of the Initiative's chip into his brain, however, he has lost the ability to commit physical acts of violence against humans. Though he can still cause michief (see "The Yoko Factor"), his efficacy as top vampire baddie has slipped. With the revelation of Spike's past, pre-vampire life, his actions (even the evil ones) become tempered by his personal hardships. As we learn more about what makes Spike tick, we become less convinced of his baddie status. Even when he decides to brave the pain and kill Buffy, he is completely disarmed when he finds her in a puddle of tears. So is Spike bad? His latest actions say "no", but his black leather duster says "yes."
Initially, in "Buffy vs. Dracula," the Scooby Gang is slightly star struck by the appearance of the infamous Dracula. Upon encountering him, they seem not so much afraid as wanting to ask for an autograph. Whether their awe is strictly from Dracula's mind trip or actual hero worship remains unclear. Whatever the case, Buffy and Xander are soon in Dracula's "thrall." Before the episode is over, Xander has led Buffy to Dracula, and she has not only allowed Drac to bite her, but also sucked his blood. Ultimately, however, she comes to her senses and defeats him. Neither Buffy nor Xander is held accountable for their actions since they were under the control of the legendary blood-sucker. The fact that they (or at least Buffy) did the "right" thing in the end seemed to erase her earlier wavering allegiances (a fact that it might serve Buffy to remember later with Riley (see 5.10 "Into The Woods.")
In "No Place Like Home," Buffy learns that Dawn is not really her sister. It is not revealed to her whether the "Key" (Dawn) is actually an evil force or good. Buffy, instead, looks at the surface innocence of the young girl/sister that she sees. This would seem to fly in the face of what I said earlier about appearances and motives, except that Dawn, in essence, lacks free will. She had no choice in becoming the human embodiment of this force. Her lack of choice equals innocence in the Buffyverse, and Buffy decides to protect her at all costs.
The final episode for Tuesday, "Fool for Love," explores the history of Spike, arguably the most morally ambigious character in Seasons 4 and 5. From the beginning of the series, we have been told that Spike was evil, highly entertaining, but evil. Since the addition of the Initiative's chip into his brain, however, he has lost the ability to commit physical acts of violence against humans. Though he can still cause michief (see "The Yoko Factor"), his efficacy as top vampire baddie has slipped. With the revelation of Spike's past, pre-vampire life, his actions (even the evil ones) become tempered by his personal hardships. As we learn more about what makes Spike tick, we become less convinced of his baddie status. Even when he decides to brave the pain and kill Buffy, he is completely disarmed when he finds her in a puddle of tears. So is Spike bad? His latest actions say "no", but his black leather duster says "yes."
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Three is Company, Four is a Scooby Gang
From the beginning of BtVS, we have seen the Scoobies unite as a gathering of loners. Prior to Buffy's arrival in Sunnydale, each was a loner in his or her own way. Buffy was alone because of her secret. Willow and Xander, though friends with each other, were still loners in that they were on the outside socially. Giles was alone in a country that wasn't his own, working in a job(s) that facilitated an isolated lifestyle (Watcher and librarian.) After the core Scooby group was formed, it became clear that there was power in their union. Alone each became smaller and unsure, but together they defeated every Big Bad that came through Sunnydale. Repeatedly, we've been shown that what each one seems to fear most is separation from the group and the connection and identity it provides.
The three episodes we watched for Thursday echo the theme that there is power in the Scoobies' numbers. Beginning in "The Yoko Factor," Adam and Spike recognize that Buffy's weakness is in separation from the group, and Spike works to divide them by playing on their insecurities. When the four quarrel, work comes to a standstill, and the bad guys make headway. Buffy is left baffled by the group's strange behavior and in a temper exclaims that she now understands why there's no prophecy about a slayer and her friends (a reference that comes into play in "Restless.")
The feuding Scoobies are reunited in "Primeval" when they finally recognize Spike's whisperings for what they are: clever plays on their tender places. As the fight against the Initiative culminates, it is only by uniting in a powerful spell that they are able to defeat Adam. Buffy alone was unable to fight him. Despite her friends' worries that they were superflous or irrelevant, they were, indeed, necessary and invaluable.
Their moment of sublime (or demonic) union arouses the spirit of the first Slayer, and "Restless," the season 4 finale, follows the four Scoobies' dreams as they fight the first Slayer's attempts to kill them. Though each has very different dreams, they spend much of their time searching for each other within their dreams. Once again, it is only through the dreams' internal conversations between the friends that Buffy is able to decipher the dream and fight off the first Slayer. While I am certain that the creepy, crazy guy with the cheese slices was suggestive of something that is to come, he also seems significant in that he was in all four dreams. Even in their separate dreams, the Scoobies are united. Together they are an unstoppable force that gives Buffy her distinctive power. After all, she has lived longer than the other previous slayers mentioned in the show.
The three episodes we watched for Thursday echo the theme that there is power in the Scoobies' numbers. Beginning in "The Yoko Factor," Adam and Spike recognize that Buffy's weakness is in separation from the group, and Spike works to divide them by playing on their insecurities. When the four quarrel, work comes to a standstill, and the bad guys make headway. Buffy is left baffled by the group's strange behavior and in a temper exclaims that she now understands why there's no prophecy about a slayer and her friends (a reference that comes into play in "Restless.")
The feuding Scoobies are reunited in "Primeval" when they finally recognize Spike's whisperings for what they are: clever plays on their tender places. As the fight against the Initiative culminates, it is only by uniting in a powerful spell that they are able to defeat Adam. Buffy alone was unable to fight him. Despite her friends' worries that they were superflous or irrelevant, they were, indeed, necessary and invaluable.
Their moment of sublime (or demonic) union arouses the spirit of the first Slayer, and "Restless," the season 4 finale, follows the four Scoobies' dreams as they fight the first Slayer's attempts to kill them. Though each has very different dreams, they spend much of their time searching for each other within their dreams. Once again, it is only through the dreams' internal conversations between the friends that Buffy is able to decipher the dream and fight off the first Slayer. While I am certain that the creepy, crazy guy with the cheese slices was suggestive of something that is to come, he also seems significant in that he was in all four dreams. Even in their separate dreams, the Scoobies are united. Together they are an unstoppable force that gives Buffy her distinctive power. After all, she has lived longer than the other previous slayers mentioned in the show.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Monsters Inc.
The three episodes we watched for Tuesday share the common image of the monster within. Regardless of how good or innocent someone might seem, their appearance is only a veneer. They are still capable of evil. In "A New Man," Giles' inner monster comes out, and soon he is loping around Sunnydale, hiding his new demon form and speaking in a demon tongue. His transformation serves as a metaphor for his checkered past returning to haunt him in the form of past pal, Ethan Rayne. Giles may be Buffy's goody-two-shoes, former watcher, but he has also dabbled in dark magic. His new demon self is forced to form an alliance with the ambivalent Spike, their kinship another symptom of his transformation. Ultimately, Giles is unable to save himself and must rely on Buffy to recognize him and save him.
In "Goodbye Iowa," Riley must face the monster within as he comes to realize that he has been Maggie's pawn. She has been pumping him full of drugs that have been manipulating him. Not only is his inner monster emerging, but he has for some time been unaware of his own complicity in the process. Later, Adam says that he and Riley are the same. It's not until a later episode that Riley is able to "extract" the monster from within. Unlike Giles, he is able to save himself.
Oz returns in "New Moon Rising." Perhaps no one better emobodies the metaphor of monster within than Oz, with his struggle to control his inner werewolf. When he gets back to Sunnydale, he explains to Willow that he can now control his monthly werewolf flares. When he realizes that Willow and Tara are a couple, he loses control and transforms, nearly killing Tara. Once again, Whedon and his writers revisit the idea I discussed in a previous blog entry where the tenor of the metaphor (Oz's jealousy of Willow) is more frightening or dangerous than the vehicle (Oz as werewolf).
In "Goodbye Iowa," Riley must face the monster within as he comes to realize that he has been Maggie's pawn. She has been pumping him full of drugs that have been manipulating him. Not only is his inner monster emerging, but he has for some time been unaware of his own complicity in the process. Later, Adam says that he and Riley are the same. It's not until a later episode that Riley is able to "extract" the monster from within. Unlike Giles, he is able to save himself.
Oz returns in "New Moon Rising." Perhaps no one better emobodies the metaphor of monster within than Oz, with his struggle to control his inner werewolf. When he gets back to Sunnydale, he explains to Willow that he can now control his monthly werewolf flares. When he realizes that Willow and Tara are a couple, he loses control and transforms, nearly killing Tara. Once again, Whedon and his writers revisit the idea I discussed in a previous blog entry where the tenor of the metaphor (Oz's jealousy of Willow) is more frightening or dangerous than the vehicle (Oz as werewolf).
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The Sound of Music And Other Evils...
The first paragraph of my blog is specifically for Dr. Berry. He mentioned that he wanted us to comment on the music in "Hush." Since there was no speaking through most of the episode, music became an even more important part of the show than usual. I thought that the whole episode had a very Tim Burton feel, and the music certainly had that same eerie effect that Danny Elfman always achieves in Burton's films. Lots of strings, lots of pizzicato. I wonder why plucking a stringed instrument makes the music sound creepier? I also loved that Giles played Saint Saens' Danse Macabre during his overhead projector presentation.
The four episodes we watched for Thursday share a common underlying element: the Initiative. Once again, the writers seem to be pointing to a distince distaste for forced hierarchies. The Initiative could easily stand in as a metaphor for organized religion or any form of enforced morality. Buffy seems to managing the usual Sunnydale influx of evil just fine when the Initiative moves into town. Immediately, the viewer is confronted with the ethical questions surrounding the Initiatives' practices. The standard Buffy blurring of good and evil occurs as we see bad guy Spike at odds with his captors. We root for his escape. Never mind that he's tried to kill Buffy countless times. He's being imprisoned, and we feel the wrongness of it. What makes it feel so wrong? Perhaps it is the experimentation that goes on in the underground lab.
The Initiative's practices contrast sharply with Buffy's upfront killing style. She has a live-and-let-live attitude that means the demons are only in danger if they cause trouble. Somehow, Buffy's way of defending Sunnydale just feels more moral. When Buffy joins the Initiative in "The I in Team," her usefulness as the Slayer is hampered by their regulations and practices. The good/evil line is blurred beyond all recognition when Professor Walsh takes a walk on the dark side and attempts to have Buffy killed. Ultimately, forcing a structure/hierarchy on Buffy makes her less effective, not more.
Monday, March 9, 2009
All Grown Up And No Place To Go
The three episodes we watched for Tuesday emphasized Buffy's "in-between" status (not a child, not quite and adult) that was mentioned in our reading (Ch 16, Fighting The Forces.) Though Buffy is finally free from high school and the daily meddling of her mother, she seems trapped by a prison of her own making: insecurity. She may be a beautiful, demon butt-kicking Slayer, but she is overwhelmed at every turn by college life (both social and academic.) Our reading would seem to suggest, however, that her uncertainty as she navigates the path to adulthood is what keeps her aware of evil and how to defeat it. Though these episodes don't deal specifically with fairty tales like the examples in the reading, they do explore evils that Buffy must defeat specifically because she is in that in-between stage.
In "Living Conditions," Buffy must get pass the infamous college hurdle of The Roommate. While Kathy at first seems like a harmless, goody-two-shoes and Buffy like a spoiled, only child, it soon becomes clear that there is something darker going on in their massive dorm room. Though Buffy's reactions to Kathy are heightened by the soul-stealing process, the end of the episode shows that Buffy does, in fact, have a little trouble with sharing. If she had not possessed this arguably childish trait, she might have remained unaware of what Kathy (who is actually a demon) is up to during the night. Though Buffy has entered a form of the adult world (college), her connection to her still recent childhood is ultimately what saves her in this episode.
Buffy gets a taste of adulthood in "The Harsh Light of Day." As Willow reminds her, she is grown up and can do what she wants with regard to guys. She pursues and is pursued by Parker, who deceives her. After sleeping with him, she realizes that he is not what he seemed at first. Her disillusionment is a very adult experience. Her reaction, however, seems more childlike as she finds and questions and Parker, seeming more sad and hurt than angry. Her childlike vulnerability and willingness to blame herself serves as a sharp contrast, not only to her Slayer-self, but also to the adult situation in which she has placed herself.
"Fear Itself" seemed to me like a transitional episode in Buffy's personal development. The college Halloween party falls easily into the more childish end of the spectrum. The gang is dressed in costumes, and they are looking for fun. After the fear demon starts wreaking havoc, though, the adult ideas start to surface. The things they fear are far from childish (though some seem transitional, like Xander's fear of being invisible to his friends that have moved on.) Most significant, however, is the size of the fear demon once he is revealed. He is so tiny that Buffy simply squashes him with her foot. Could this signal a firm step into adulthood for Buffy?
In "Living Conditions," Buffy must get pass the infamous college hurdle of The Roommate. While Kathy at first seems like a harmless, goody-two-shoes and Buffy like a spoiled, only child, it soon becomes clear that there is something darker going on in their massive dorm room. Though Buffy's reactions to Kathy are heightened by the soul-stealing process, the end of the episode shows that Buffy does, in fact, have a little trouble with sharing. If she had not possessed this arguably childish trait, she might have remained unaware of what Kathy (who is actually a demon) is up to during the night. Though Buffy has entered a form of the adult world (college), her connection to her still recent childhood is ultimately what saves her in this episode.
Buffy gets a taste of adulthood in "The Harsh Light of Day." As Willow reminds her, she is grown up and can do what she wants with regard to guys. She pursues and is pursued by Parker, who deceives her. After sleeping with him, she realizes that he is not what he seemed at first. Her disillusionment is a very adult experience. Her reaction, however, seems more childlike as she finds and questions and Parker, seeming more sad and hurt than angry. Her childlike vulnerability and willingness to blame herself serves as a sharp contrast, not only to her Slayer-self, but also to the adult situation in which she has placed herself.
"Fear Itself" seemed to me like a transitional episode in Buffy's personal development. The college Halloween party falls easily into the more childish end of the spectrum. The gang is dressed in costumes, and they are looking for fun. After the fear demon starts wreaking havoc, though, the adult ideas start to surface. The things they fear are far from childish (though some seem transitional, like Xander's fear of being invisible to his friends that have moved on.) Most significant, however, is the size of the fear demon once he is revealed. He is so tiny that Buffy simply squashes him with her foot. Could this signal a firm step into adulthood for Buffy?
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
If High School Is Hell, Then College Sucks
In the article we read for today's viewing, the writer explored the "high school is hell" metaphor that permeates the first three seasons of BtVS. It even gives specific examples about the first two episodes we watched, "Graduation Day Part 1" and "Graduation Day Part 2." It would certainly seem that the old idea of nothing ever being the same after high school was true for Buffy and her friends.
After watching the first episodes of season 4, however, I wondered if high school was hell, what is college? Once again the writers take common themes for freshman college students (loneliness, depression, feeling overwhelmed) and make those emotions the monster. Buffy, who is feeling a little disoriented and blue herself, realizes that other students like her are disappearing from campus, leaving behind nothing but a handwritten note. Though the vampire, Sunday, and her gang are the culprits in the actual disappearances, one could argue that as much blame lies with the overbearing professors (like Buffy's psych professor), the cliques, and the system in general for making these particular students more vulnerable to attack.
This metaphor of vampire-abducted students ties closely to the ideas in Little's article. She suggests that in BtVS, frequently the tenor of the metaphor is scarier than the vehicle (the monster). Certainly Buffy is more at risk from her funk about school than she is in danger from Sunday's vampire gang. In fact, it is her depression that seems to weaken Buffy in her first encounter with Sunday, a fight that she eventually has to flee. This unBuffylike behavior is brought about not by some super villain with new and surprising skills, but rather by a timidity of spirit resulting from a day of being a tiny fish in a very big pond.
After watching the first episodes of season 4, however, I wondered if high school was hell, what is college? Once again the writers take common themes for freshman college students (loneliness, depression, feeling overwhelmed) and make those emotions the monster. Buffy, who is feeling a little disoriented and blue herself, realizes that other students like her are disappearing from campus, leaving behind nothing but a handwritten note. Though the vampire, Sunday, and her gang are the culprits in the actual disappearances, one could argue that as much blame lies with the overbearing professors (like Buffy's psych professor), the cliques, and the system in general for making these particular students more vulnerable to attack.
This metaphor of vampire-abducted students ties closely to the ideas in Little's article. She suggests that in BtVS, frequently the tenor of the metaphor is scarier than the vehicle (the monster). Certainly Buffy is more at risk from her funk about school than she is in danger from Sunday's vampire gang. In fact, it is her depression that seems to weaken Buffy in her first encounter with Sunday, a fight that she eventually has to flee. This unBuffylike behavior is brought about not by some super villain with new and surprising skills, but rather by a timidity of spirit resulting from a day of being a tiny fish in a very big pond.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Perhaps Buffy's Doppelganger is Well-Read
After watching the last three episodes, I am even fuzzier on how Whedon and his writers are trying to portray Buffy. On one hand, you have Buffy the poor student, and it isn't simply a matter of being too busy slaying to study (though that certainly plays a part.) Buffy admits that school, books, and learning aren't her thing. She even admits in a previous episode that prior to being called as the Slayer, she was even flightier than Cordelia. So how does this non-reading, C (or D or F) student make references like she did in "Enemies" where she says that Faith "makes Godot look punctual." Her witty sarcasm and clipped remarks are frequently filled with these sorts of highbrow literary and cultural references that seem out of sync with her life experience. So what is Whedon trying to say? There's more to Buffy than meets the eye? I get that, but where does she obtain this vast knowledge that seems to escape her when other people make these same sorts of references?
On the flip side, I find some of these Buffy inconsistencies quite compelling. Here you have a young woman who has faced demons and tons of otherwordly horrors, and yet she still manages a very high school jealousy over Faith and Angel in "Enemies" and "Earshot." The immaturity behind this insecurity is highlighted by its juxaposition against Angel's age and experience. Angel has seen it all and done it all, while Buffy is obviously feeling her way through this. She even tries to read Angel's mind in "Earshot" in order to determine his thoughts and feelings about Faith. This serves as a sharp reminder that the girl who has had to grow up too fast ("Anne") is still exactly that, a girl. She may kill baddies and fight demons, but ulitimately, she's not the best at human relationships (as was discussed in the Leon article.)
On a separate and unrelated note, I have to mention the Mayor, who is quite possibly the most entertaining Buffy bad guy yet. His G-rated quips contrast sharply with Faith's morality-free lifestyle/attitude. I am intrigued that the one person in Sunnydale who is most concerned with living a good, clean life is also the one that plans to destroy the town and its inhabitants. This would seem to echo my previous suggestion that Whedon is against any authority that establishes any external/artificial set of rules and regulations. The Mayor could stand in for government, organized religion, even heavy handed parenting. It is also significant that once again the rebellious Faith has sought out someone to tell her what to do. Certainly she has chosen a leader more in line with what she wants, but still, the Mayor treats her much like a father would, and she submits willingly to his control.
On the flip side, I find some of these Buffy inconsistencies quite compelling. Here you have a young woman who has faced demons and tons of otherwordly horrors, and yet she still manages a very high school jealousy over Faith and Angel in "Enemies" and "Earshot." The immaturity behind this insecurity is highlighted by its juxaposition against Angel's age and experience. Angel has seen it all and done it all, while Buffy is obviously feeling her way through this. She even tries to read Angel's mind in "Earshot" in order to determine his thoughts and feelings about Faith. This serves as a sharp reminder that the girl who has had to grow up too fast ("Anne") is still exactly that, a girl. She may kill baddies and fight demons, but ulitimately, she's not the best at human relationships (as was discussed in the Leon article.)
On a separate and unrelated note, I have to mention the Mayor, who is quite possibly the most entertaining Buffy bad guy yet. His G-rated quips contrast sharply with Faith's morality-free lifestyle/attitude. I am intrigued that the one person in Sunnydale who is most concerned with living a good, clean life is also the one that plans to destroy the town and its inhabitants. This would seem to echo my previous suggestion that Whedon is against any authority that establishes any external/artificial set of rules and regulations. The Mayor could stand in for government, organized religion, even heavy handed parenting. It is also significant that once again the rebellious Faith has sought out someone to tell her what to do. Certainly she has chosen a leader more in line with what she wants, but still, the Mayor treats her much like a father would, and she submits willingly to his control.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Respect My Authority
With this week's episodes, we revisit the idea that authority is bad in the Buffyverse. In "Revelations," the new watcher, Gwendolyn Post, turns out to be an evil, power-crazed baddie. What I did find interesting, however, was that while Buffy and her crew never liked the new watcher, Faith, the resident rebel, felt inexplicably connected to her. This made me wonder what Whedon was suggesting here...that those who cannot self-regulate are the only ones who need an absolute authority? It is an interesting suggestion that could have far reaching implications on everything from government to religion.
In "Helpless," Giles is forced to put Buffy through a test which could potentionally harm/kill her. This echoes the same theme found in "Revelations." Buffy and Giles seem to be managing just fine on their own until Quentin from the Council shows up. Once again, the writers seem to be pointing to people's need to regulate/control themselves so that less capable dictator types aren't given a foothold. This would also seem to tie in well with the chapter we read on Buffy and religion. Perhaps Whedon is suggesting the existence of good and evil as intrinsic values rather than manifestations of a deity. If that is the case, then it would make sense that he would be against any sort of imposed external regulation like religion.
Both "Bad Girls" and "Consequences" show what happens when absolute authority goes bad. The Mayor, already powerful in Sunnydale, becomes invincible. The new watcher's attempts to control Faith end badly. Whatever else Whedon and his writers are suggesting by their characterizations of adults in the Buffyverse, it is clear that they have little faith in authority.
In "Helpless," Giles is forced to put Buffy through a test which could potentionally harm/kill her. This echoes the same theme found in "Revelations." Buffy and Giles seem to be managing just fine on their own until Quentin from the Council shows up. Once again, the writers seem to be pointing to people's need to regulate/control themselves so that less capable dictator types aren't given a foothold. This would also seem to tie in well with the chapter we read on Buffy and religion. Perhaps Whedon is suggesting the existence of good and evil as intrinsic values rather than manifestations of a deity. If that is the case, then it would make sense that he would be against any sort of imposed external regulation like religion.
Both "Bad Girls" and "Consequences" show what happens when absolute authority goes bad. The Mayor, already powerful in Sunnydale, becomes invincible. The new watcher's attempts to control Faith end badly. Whatever else Whedon and his writers are suggesting by their characterizations of adults in the Buffyverse, it is clear that they have little faith in authority.
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Good, The Bad, and the Really, Really Ugly
One might expect the storylines of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to follow a strict good-versus-evil rule. After all, stories that are clearly black and white, with no pesky gray area, have always done well in the fantasy genre. (See movies like Star Wars and Lord of the Rings.) But from the very beginning of the series, the line between good and bad has been far from stationary. Buffy does fight and kill vampires and other hellish baddies, but to do so, she must break rules and deceive those she loves (like her mother.) She further muddies the waters by dating a vampire, and not just any vampire. Angel has killed many, many people. He may have a soul now, but that does not erase the fact that he committed unspeakable crimes.
In the three episodes we watched for Tuesday (2/24), we see even further evidence of the skewed vision of good and evil that exists in Sunnydale. In "Becoming Part Two," Buffy must face the demon, Acathla, and her former lover, Angel, who is now set on destroying the world. When things look bleakest, she finds help from the most unlikely source, Spike. That Spike has tried to kill both Buffy and those she loves is not what is most ironic, however. It is the fact that Spike is willing to help Buffy because of his love for Drusilla (well, that and his desire to stop the destruction of the world.) Though the viewer has seen Spike as a ruthless (though charming) killer, they suddenly feel at least a twinge of empathy for a character who is trying to keep his beloved. Buffy is conflicted by Spike's offer, but she ultimately decides to accept it in order to pursue a greater good. (If the Buffy/Spike detente is not an example of one big moral gray area, I don't know what is.)
In "Anne," Buffy slips away from Sunnydale to live in some unnamed town. It would appear, however, that the moral dilemnas followed her to her new location. She is immediately confronted by someone who needs her help, a girl from Sunnydale. Though "Lily" seems helpless and hopeless, she still tries to get money from Buffy and turns on Buffy when things go downhill. A character who might at first seem good (though not to regular viewers of BtVS) because of his apparent desire to help the needy, turns out to be an evil demon sent to recruit workers for some mysterious and deadly factory. Buffy must choose between protecting herself and helping others (a choice she makes often in the series) and, of course, chooses the latter. Though this episode does not necessarily show situational gray areas, it does play on our expectations of who is good and who is bad.
When it comes to moral dilemnas and gray areas, no character except Angel has ventured so far as Faith. In "Faith, Hope, and Trick," the new slayer (to replace Kendra) enters with an entourage of otherworldly baddies close behind. Though Faith is a slayer called to fight evil, she does so with much more relish than Buffy. She seems to enjoy the violence, whereas Buffy sees it more as a means to an end. Is Faith a "good" character? Her motives seem far from pure. Did she assume that Kakistos would follow her to Sunnydale? Did she hope that she could then let Buffy take over and relieve her of her pursuers? When she heard about Kakistos, she immediately tried to run (something Buffy would never do.) She is far more concerned about her own personal safety and fulfillment than the safety of those around her. It seems clear that the line between good and evil will only get more blurry the longer Faith is in the picture.
Buffy must also deal with her own gray areas as she finally admits to Giles and Willow that she killed Angel after he regained his soul. Yes, she was working toward the greater good. Killing Angel (or, at least, sending him to Hell) saved the world, but she also proved once and for all that when it came to choosing between love and slaying, she could make the right choice. It could also be argued, however, that she was "saving" Angel. She could have no way of knowing that Angel would return. Maybe she thought that by killing him she was freeing him from his tortured soul.
In the three episodes we watched for Tuesday (2/24), we see even further evidence of the skewed vision of good and evil that exists in Sunnydale. In "Becoming Part Two," Buffy must face the demon, Acathla, and her former lover, Angel, who is now set on destroying the world. When things look bleakest, she finds help from the most unlikely source, Spike. That Spike has tried to kill both Buffy and those she loves is not what is most ironic, however. It is the fact that Spike is willing to help Buffy because of his love for Drusilla (well, that and his desire to stop the destruction of the world.) Though the viewer has seen Spike as a ruthless (though charming) killer, they suddenly feel at least a twinge of empathy for a character who is trying to keep his beloved. Buffy is conflicted by Spike's offer, but she ultimately decides to accept it in order to pursue a greater good. (If the Buffy/Spike detente is not an example of one big moral gray area, I don't know what is.)
In "Anne," Buffy slips away from Sunnydale to live in some unnamed town. It would appear, however, that the moral dilemnas followed her to her new location. She is immediately confronted by someone who needs her help, a girl from Sunnydale. Though "Lily" seems helpless and hopeless, she still tries to get money from Buffy and turns on Buffy when things go downhill. A character who might at first seem good (though not to regular viewers of BtVS) because of his apparent desire to help the needy, turns out to be an evil demon sent to recruit workers for some mysterious and deadly factory. Buffy must choose between protecting herself and helping others (a choice she makes often in the series) and, of course, chooses the latter. Though this episode does not necessarily show situational gray areas, it does play on our expectations of who is good and who is bad.
When it comes to moral dilemnas and gray areas, no character except Angel has ventured so far as Faith. In "Faith, Hope, and Trick," the new slayer (to replace Kendra) enters with an entourage of otherworldly baddies close behind. Though Faith is a slayer called to fight evil, she does so with much more relish than Buffy. She seems to enjoy the violence, whereas Buffy sees it more as a means to an end. Is Faith a "good" character? Her motives seem far from pure. Did she assume that Kakistos would follow her to Sunnydale? Did she hope that she could then let Buffy take over and relieve her of her pursuers? When she heard about Kakistos, she immediately tried to run (something Buffy would never do.) She is far more concerned about her own personal safety and fulfillment than the safety of those around her. It seems clear that the line between good and evil will only get more blurry the longer Faith is in the picture.
Buffy must also deal with her own gray areas as she finally admits to Giles and Willow that she killed Angel after he regained his soul. Yes, she was working toward the greater good. Killing Angel (or, at least, sending him to Hell) saved the world, but she also proved once and for all that when it came to choosing between love and slaying, she could make the right choice. It could also be argued, however, that she was "saving" Angel. She could have no way of knowing that Angel would return. Maybe she thought that by killing him she was freeing him from his tortured soul.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Parental Guidance Suggested
Thus far in Buffy, we have seen adults/authority figures portrayed in a less than flattering light. Either the adults in Buffy's life are completely clueless idiots (Principal Flutie), secretly sinister (Principle Snyder, the Praying Mantis teacher), or they are powerless in the face of evil or danger. The four episodes that we watched for Thursday (2/19) focused on the latter group, though there were a few sinister sneaks thrown in for good measure.
In "What's My Line? Part Two," Giles is portrayed (as he is so often is) as a slightly bumbling, well-intentioned advisor. He may have book smarts, but he is seen (at least by the kids) as someone who is more about thought than action. When Kendra reminds Buffy to return to her watcher for "orders," Buffy is insulted. She informs Kendra that she "doesn't take orders." Though Giles is technically an authority figure in Buffy's life, obviously, she feels that when it comes to a crisis, she should trust her own judgement. Giles may come up with clever plans, but ultimately, it is the kids who implement them. Willy, on the other hand, appears incompetent at first only to become a somewhat spineless bad guy.
Giles' role of kindly father figure contines in "Surprise" and "Innocence." Though he does hours and hours of research on the Judge, it is Buffy and Xander who come up with and implement the plan to steal a weapon and destroy the Judge. Jenny Calendar is sent to protect the curse on Angel that keeps him good. She is conflicted when she must weigh her ancestral traditions against her relationships with Giles and Buffy. In the end, she fails to protect Angel or Buffy.
Buffy's mother, however, seems the most clueless adult so far in the series. She ignores her daughter's bizarre behavior and unexplainable circumstances at every turn almost as if she is under a spell. She is frustrated with Buffy, and in "Becoming" her lack of faith in her daughter comes to the fore. She may have defended Buffy with an axe in "School Hard" and declared her to be a self-reliant young woman, but those days are over.
I am curious about Whedon's motivation for portraying adults in this manner. It could, of course, simply be a matter of appealing to a young viewer. Every teenager thinks their parents are idiots at some point. In Sunnydale, the parents really are. It could also be a device to emphasize Buffy's isolation and loneliness because of her Slayer calling. Buffy is 17 and is moving quickly toward adulthood/womanhood. If we are following the pattern of the female hero, the time is approaching for her to break away from home/mother/adult guidance and move toward independence. Perhaps Whedon is showing how Buffy's circumstances are forcing her to grow up too quickly.
The adults' blindness to the mayhem and danger that surround them could also be a metaphor. Children and teenagers generally have a very strong sense of personal justice. They are outraged by people and situations that adults just accept as being part of life. Parents remind their teenage children that "life isn't fair." Sometimes as adults, though, we become blind to the evils and injustice that surround us on a daily basis. We accept bad circumstances because "that's just the way things are." Perhaps Whedon is pointing to the power of youth to recognize wrongs in our society and to bring them to light.
In "What's My Line? Part Two," Giles is portrayed (as he is so often is) as a slightly bumbling, well-intentioned advisor. He may have book smarts, but he is seen (at least by the kids) as someone who is more about thought than action. When Kendra reminds Buffy to return to her watcher for "orders," Buffy is insulted. She informs Kendra that she "doesn't take orders." Though Giles is technically an authority figure in Buffy's life, obviously, she feels that when it comes to a crisis, she should trust her own judgement. Giles may come up with clever plans, but ultimately, it is the kids who implement them. Willy, on the other hand, appears incompetent at first only to become a somewhat spineless bad guy.
Giles' role of kindly father figure contines in "Surprise" and "Innocence." Though he does hours and hours of research on the Judge, it is Buffy and Xander who come up with and implement the plan to steal a weapon and destroy the Judge. Jenny Calendar is sent to protect the curse on Angel that keeps him good. She is conflicted when she must weigh her ancestral traditions against her relationships with Giles and Buffy. In the end, she fails to protect Angel or Buffy.
Buffy's mother, however, seems the most clueless adult so far in the series. She ignores her daughter's bizarre behavior and unexplainable circumstances at every turn almost as if she is under a spell. She is frustrated with Buffy, and in "Becoming" her lack of faith in her daughter comes to the fore. She may have defended Buffy with an axe in "School Hard" and declared her to be a self-reliant young woman, but those days are over.
I am curious about Whedon's motivation for portraying adults in this manner. It could, of course, simply be a matter of appealing to a young viewer. Every teenager thinks their parents are idiots at some point. In Sunnydale, the parents really are. It could also be a device to emphasize Buffy's isolation and loneliness because of her Slayer calling. Buffy is 17 and is moving quickly toward adulthood/womanhood. If we are following the pattern of the female hero, the time is approaching for her to break away from home/mother/adult guidance and move toward independence. Perhaps Whedon is showing how Buffy's circumstances are forcing her to grow up too quickly.
The adults' blindness to the mayhem and danger that surround them could also be a metaphor. Children and teenagers generally have a very strong sense of personal justice. They are outraged by people and situations that adults just accept as being part of life. Parents remind their teenage children that "life isn't fair." Sometimes as adults, though, we become blind to the evils and injustice that surround us on a daily basis. We accept bad circumstances because "that's just the way things are." Perhaps Whedon is pointing to the power of youth to recognize wrongs in our society and to bring them to light.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Destiny Bites
The three episodes we watched for Tuesday seemed to focus especially on Buffy's internal struggle over her destiny and the "normal" life she was giving up to be the Slayer. While "School Hard" and "What's My Line" centered on the school life and career she would never have, "Halloween" looked more at what she was losing personally, as a girl. Between the three episodes, a complete picture was painted of everything Buffy's life was not. Each time, she was given a choice: Slayer or girl. Though she may have sampled some of the normal activities (mostly to a bad end), she ultimately "chose" her destiny every time. I suppose it could be argued that she had no choice, no free will, but it seemed to me that that the writers were trying to portray her as deeply noble, someone who would make the right choice regardless. The inevitability of her fate seems almost irrelevant when she willingly makes sacrifices for her friends.
In "School Hard," we once again revisit the cruel injustice that is high school - only for Buffy that is magnified a thousand times. Her mother thinks she's trouble, and the principal is itching to expel her for the slightest infraction. Despite the fact that she is good and responsible (at least for a sixteen year old), she is contantly questioned and never trusted or given the benefit of the doubt. Certainly everyone who has lived past their sixteenth birthday could relate to this sort of treatment on a smaller scale, but Buffy is the ultimate misunderstood teenager. Though the episode highlights the respect and admiration she has to sacrifce to be a secret of slayer of vampires, she does as, at least, gain a nod from her mother. It is obvious, however, that this conflict is far from over.
"Halloween" links to a conflict I mentioned in a previous blog - that of Buffy's becoming something altogether different because of how she must live. Darla may point to what Buffy could become (evil), but there are other things Buffy could become. She is dating a vampire. So who is she? A teenage valley girl who love to shop? A butt-kicking vampire slayer? A hardened killer? Her transformation into a clueless noblewoman is her identity crisis come to life.
Of the three episodes, "What's My Line" seemed the most poignant portrayal of Buffy's internal conflict. It isn't simply about her life now. It's about her future. What can possibly become of her? Should she even worry about it since she probably won't live that long? When the replacement Slayer shows up, however, Buffy is shown that her life could be worse. Her life is far more "normal" than Kendra's. Once again, we are reminded of what Buffy could become and what she has to lose.
In "School Hard," we once again revisit the cruel injustice that is high school - only for Buffy that is magnified a thousand times. Her mother thinks she's trouble, and the principal is itching to expel her for the slightest infraction. Despite the fact that she is good and responsible (at least for a sixteen year old), she is contantly questioned and never trusted or given the benefit of the doubt. Certainly everyone who has lived past their sixteenth birthday could relate to this sort of treatment on a smaller scale, but Buffy is the ultimate misunderstood teenager. Though the episode highlights the respect and admiration she has to sacrifce to be a secret of slayer of vampires, she does as, at least, gain a nod from her mother. It is obvious, however, that this conflict is far from over.
"Halloween" links to a conflict I mentioned in a previous blog - that of Buffy's becoming something altogether different because of how she must live. Darla may point to what Buffy could become (evil), but there are other things Buffy could become. She is dating a vampire. So who is she? A teenage valley girl who love to shop? A butt-kicking vampire slayer? A hardened killer? Her transformation into a clueless noblewoman is her identity crisis come to life.
Of the three episodes, "What's My Line" seemed the most poignant portrayal of Buffy's internal conflict. It isn't simply about her life now. It's about her future. What can possibly become of her? Should she even worry about it since she probably won't live that long? When the replacement Slayer shows up, however, Buffy is shown that her life could be worse. Her life is far more "normal" than Kendra's. Once again, we are reminded of what Buffy could become and what she has to lose.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The Master of Metaphor
Some of the Buffy baddies are far from subtle in the metaphor department. In “The Witch”, the overachieving cheerleader wannabe was really her own evil, overbearing mother trying to relive her glory days. This tied in nicely with Buffy’s own desire to be popular and also with her lack of an involved mother. The evil mom and her struggling daughter were everything that Buffy and her mother were not.
Not all the villains were quite as obvious, however. Darla, the Master’s Girl-Friday and Angel’s ex, seemed to represent everything that Buffy was fighting against becoming – someone who completely lacks empathy and kills for fun. It is interesting however, that she is so similar in appearance to Buffy – blonde, attractive, young (looking anyway). I think this physical similarity points to what Buffy is capable of, even if she never becomes a vampire. Buffy must balance her need for cold objectivity in the face of death with her desire to remain human and empathetic with her fellow man.
Perhaps the most challenging character to crack is the Master. Does he represent Buffy’s absent father? Death? Or more convincingly, is the Master a metaphor for Buffy’s destiny, forced upon her against her will? The Master was already in Sunnydale waiting for Buffy to arrive. No matter how many vampires she faced in Season 1, the Master came up with yet another evil plan that cost Buffy more of her precious “normal” time. Even with the Master’s Death in “Prophecy Girl,” she cannot completely escape him. He forces her to face her death, and then in the Season 2 opener, he nearly rises again. It seems that, like her destiny as the Slayer, Buffy cannot escape the Master. Even though she has crushed his bones to dust, his Anointed remains to cause trouble for the unwilling Slayer.
Not all the villains were quite as obvious, however. Darla, the Master’s Girl-Friday and Angel’s ex, seemed to represent everything that Buffy was fighting against becoming – someone who completely lacks empathy and kills for fun. It is interesting however, that she is so similar in appearance to Buffy – blonde, attractive, young (looking anyway). I think this physical similarity points to what Buffy is capable of, even if she never becomes a vampire. Buffy must balance her need for cold objectivity in the face of death with her desire to remain human and empathetic with her fellow man.
Perhaps the most challenging character to crack is the Master. Does he represent Buffy’s absent father? Death? Or more convincingly, is the Master a metaphor for Buffy’s destiny, forced upon her against her will? The Master was already in Sunnydale waiting for Buffy to arrive. No matter how many vampires she faced in Season 1, the Master came up with yet another evil plan that cost Buffy more of her precious “normal” time. Even with the Master’s Death in “Prophecy Girl,” she cannot completely escape him. He forces her to face her death, and then in the Season 2 opener, he nearly rises again. It seems that, like her destiny as the Slayer, Buffy cannot escape the Master. Even though she has crushed his bones to dust, his Anointed remains to cause trouble for the unwilling Slayer.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Follow the Leader
In addition to watching the first three episodes of Season 1 this weekend, I went ahead and watched the whole first season. While I can definitely see some of the patterns that were mentioned in the article on the female hero (Buffy's in the "Virgin" stage, obviously), I think it is significant that unlike the stories mentioned in the article, Buffy (the character/tv show) was created by a man. Yes, Buffy is physically powerful. She is resourceful and clever, but ultimately, she needs a man (Giles) in order to fulfill her destiny. Though creator, Joss Whedon, says he wants a strong female character, he still creates a girl who is often ruled by her passions and must be led by a man. As we learn from the first episode on, her slaying duties at her old school did not end well for her, and no specific mention of a previous watcher is made. Giles quickly becomes the "brains" of the operation. Even Willow, the only female character so far who is betrayed as really intelligent, is mostly taking orders from Giles. Of course, they are still kids, and Giles is an adult. It would be beyond unrealistic to create teenage characters who exist completely in their own realm with no adult supervision/interaction (not that this show is reality based), but it seemed to me that, at least in the first three episodes, Buffy is ruled mostly by her emotions, and Giles must use his intellect and vast knowledge of vampire lore to rein her in time and again. This seemed to be particularly true of episode three, "The Witch," where Buffy's desire to fit in and be a popular cheerleader led her into trouble and almost cost her her life.
Joss Whedon's possible slip into patriarchy aside, he does create a strong, clever character who uses witty banter and sarcasm as much as she uses her fists. She and her friends, Willow and Xander, often communicate in a quick, almost telegraphic style of language that is full of humor and historical and cultural references. I did find it funny, however, that while they completely understood Cordelia's comment about hyperbole in "The Witch," they were unable to decipher the meaning of the words "mythological entomology" in the following episode, "Teacher's Pet." Overall, though, Whedon has created a character that is an interesting juxtaposition between street smart tough and innocent lamb.
Joss Whedon's possible slip into patriarchy aside, he does create a strong, clever character who uses witty banter and sarcasm as much as she uses her fists. She and her friends, Willow and Xander, often communicate in a quick, almost telegraphic style of language that is full of humor and historical and cultural references. I did find it funny, however, that while they completely understood Cordelia's comment about hyperbole in "The Witch," they were unable to decipher the meaning of the words "mythological entomology" in the following episode, "Teacher's Pet." Overall, though, Whedon has created a character that is an interesting juxtaposition between street smart tough and innocent lamb.
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