SPOILER STATUS
Contains some general spoilers for early season 5 episodes.
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YES,
SHE'S A VAMPIRE SLAYER.
NO, HER SHOW ISN'T KIDS' STUFF
04.01.2001 - From the New
York Times, 1 October 2000:
Though it's popular with
high school and college audiences and has a small following among older
viewers, WB's Buffy the Vampire Slayer has yet to be taken
seriously - to be removed from the status of cult entertainment. Yet
the show is a knockout: as much as The West Wing, which dominated
the recent Emmy Awards, it demonstrates what television can accomplish.
The notion that has
lingered into its fifth season, which began last Tuesday, is that Buffy
is high camp. That misperception may be partly due to the fact that
the 1992 movie of the same name that engendered the series was disposable
nonsense, or that WB is also home to a number of fatuous young-adult
shows, slick, unconvincing portraits of adolescent angst like Dawson's
Creek and Felicity. As of last spring, Buffy was
the only show on television in which both the characters and the dialogue
remind us of the way real teenagers interact - with adults, with one
another, and with their own feelings and impulses.
But the main reason Buffy
is undervalued is that Joss Whedon, who created the series and has written
and directed many of its most memorable episodes (and, oddly enough, wrote
the movie), sets the exploration of the nature of adolescence in the
disreputable horror genre. In the 70s, in pictures like Carrie
and The Fury, Brian De Palma showed that horror movies could
operate as stylized expressions of the outsize emotions with which
teenagers grapple. Mr. Whedon works the same territory. The
premise of Buffy is that Sunnydale, the sleepy California town
where Buffy Summers (Sarah Michelle Gellar) and her divorced mom (Kristine
Sutherland), L.A. natives, have relocated, is built on the Hellmouth, a
convergence of supernatural energies that draws a wide variety of vampires
and demons. So, Sunnydale is the site of repeated attempts by unholy
entities to bring about the apocalypse. For the first three seasons,
Sunnydale High and the local teen hangout, the Bronze, were the favoured
hunting ground of the undead.
It's an ingenious
metaphor: adolescence as the Hellmouth. Buffy is the Slayer,
divinely chosen to combat evil. But since the Slayer traditionally
works in secrecy, Buffy's behaviour often seems violent and antisocial to
those who have authority over her, such as high school administrators and
even her loving but baffled mother. Much of the show's humour has
derived from the tensions between the limitations placed on Buffy by her
not-yet-adult status and her obligation to patrol against the incursion of
demonic forces. Much of its pathos, too, since Buffy has the same
needs and desires as any other girl of her age.
Joyce Summers wasn't let
in on the secret until late in the second season, but there's always been
a steady cadre of friends who, bucking the rules set by the organisation
known as the Watchers' Council, have served as Buffy's confidants and
allies. Besides her personal watcher, the school librarian Rupert
Giles (Anthony Stewart Head), and Angel (David Boreanaz), the vampire with
a soul (it was restored by a Gypsy curse, to haunt him with the horrors of
two centuries of misdeeds), Buffy's gang has included a number of other
youngsters. The original crew included the sweet-natured science and
computer brain Willow (Alyson Hannigan), who struggles with wallflower
tendencies; the hormone-driven Xander (Nicholas Brendon); and Cordelia
(Charisma Carpenter), a debutante whose self-absorption and shallowness,
initially just a running gag, turned out to be a protective shield forged
out of teen insecurities. The second season added Oz (Seth Green), a
guitarist with a deadpan ironic style whose affections started to bring
Willow out of her shell - a process that has continued, unexpectedly, with
her current romance with another young woman, Tara (Amber Benson).
Inevitably, now that
Buffy and Willow have gone on to the local college, the show has shed some
of these characters. Angel moved on to his own show on WB, taking
Cordelia with him, and for the moment Oz seems to have departed as
well. So, irrevocably, has Jenny Calendar (Robia La Morte), the
computer teacher briefly linked with Giles until - in the most terrifying
and upsetting phase of the show - Angel lost his soul again and, still
obsessed with Buffy, the girl who made him feel human, began to prey on
her friends.
The central metaphor of
adolescence as a supernatural battleground has had a rich yield for Mr.
Whedon - who's a kind of genius at imaginative re-creations of the teen
psyche - and for his collaborators. The show finds ways of
dramatizing every feeling that, in teenagers, threatens to become an
explosion: alienation from the grown-up world and from one another, fear
of not belonging, distrust of authority, and the panoply of emotions that
accompany our first romantic impulses.
Watching the characters
figure out how to negotiate the implications of living on the Hellmouth,
we become aware of how teenagers naturally learn to negotiate the puzzling
and infuriating obstacles constantly dropping in their path. Oz
becomes a werewolf, but Willow still adores him; she decides, finally,
that if he can handle her moodiness around her periods, she can put up
with his enslavement to the full moon. (Giles simply locks him in a
cage until he's recovered.) The discovery that Sunnydale's mayor
(Harry Groener) is scheming with the denizens of the Hellmouth to acquire
demon status makes him merely a more flamboyant breed of corrupt
politician; Buffy and her friends wise up fast. The school was
burned to the ground in a full-scale combat with the mayor in his
demon-snake mode at Buffy's graduation - an inspired emblem for how the
end of high school catapults often unwilling teenagers into the next phase
of their lives.
When Buffy loses her
virginity to Angel on her 17th birthday, the moment of perfect happiness
he achieves triggers the other side of the Gypsy curse, and his soul
vanishes. What she experiences is a high school girl's worst
nightmare: she sleeps with the boy she loves and wakes up the next morning
to find that he's turned cold and cruel. And in Faith (Eliza Dusku),
a second slayer added in the third season and seduced over to the mayor's
camp, the show considers the case of the adolescent so deeply damaged that
she confuses love with weakness.
Like Brian De Palma, Mr.
Whedon loves mixed tones. The wisecracks and farce moments don't
defuse the suspense or the horror, or devalue the high-running passions of
the characters. He loves actors, too: the ensemble work on Buffy
the Vampire Slayer is no less impressive than it is on The West
Wing. Performers like Ms. Gellar, Ms. Hannigan and Ms. Duskhu,
over and over again, meet the harrowing emotional demands of characters
who are asked to engage continuously with the terrors of burgeoning
adulthood. Mr. Brendon, Ms. Carpenter in her three seasons with the
show, and especially Mr. Head have witty styles that crack open every now
and then, and the suppressed anguish of the characters leaks out through
the fissures. Mr. Head's Giles has a twee Englishness that his
faithful charges are forever joshing, but anyone who saw the episode in
which Jenny was murdered knows what this actor is capable of: he seemed
paralysed, as if every other emotion had been sponged up by grief.
In his stint as the brooding half-caste Angel, Mr. Boreanaz illuminated
both the tender and rotted sides of romantic obsession.
And the show has produced
a supporting cast of superb villains. The resourceful stage actor
Harry Groener's playful ironies had a surprising underside of wistfulness
in his scenes with Faith. Julie Benz was a too-brief presence early
on as a baby-doll vamp. On the other hand, the scene-stealing James
Marsters, as a Brit-punk bloodsucker named Spike, has become a regular,
and this season marks the return of the maddened semi-invalid vampire who
jilted him, Drusilla. The wildly gifted Juliet Landau (the daughter
of Martin Landau and Barbara Bain) plays Dru like an acid-addled cross
between Ophelia and Cassandra.
Buffy has had
rocky patches. Mr. Whedon and his writing staff have sometimes had
to scramble to find ways to deal with the new phases in the characters'
lives - like Buffy's depression in the aftermath of the Angel crisis and
the onset of college for Buffy and Willow. It took the show most of
last season to work out the alterations in this intimate group of friends
that time has conspired to scatter. These challenges grow out of the
series' insistence on remaining true to its contract: to articulate the
realities of growing up, when perception and loyalties are constantly
shifting. Mr. Whedon keeps faith with his subjects as they approach
adulthood: he honors the drama of their turbulent lives.
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