
During the less frantic times of the semester, Jen and I usually spend our evenings watching independent films, musicals, sitcoms like Seinfeld or Father Ted that we haven't seen before. But due to some idiosyncrasy in my personality, I find it impossible to absorb new media during stressful periods. Hence, the return of the slayer into my life. But this time around, as I rewatched numerous episodes, beginning with the picky criteria of watching only the quirkier stand alone episodes, I began to wonder why this show, unlike any other, has won my life long affection.
First of all, the fact that the show is endlessly rewatchable must have something to do with it. I've seen, and purchased, many films before that I found extraordinary, even breath-taking, but realized I couldn't bring myself to watch them again and again. For example, Muholland Drive is an amazing film with several beautiful shots that fascinated me the first time through. But on a second watching, I found the movie's mood a little suffocating. Once you know that the exciting mystery of the dream is only a dream in the mind of a depressed and washed up Hollywood extra, Muholland loses its drive and just becomes downright depressing.
Despite the wonkiness of linking Lynch to Whedon, I think there's something to it. Buffy is the opposite of suffocating. It's a breath of fresh air, a wide open vista. You would not expect this not to be the case in a show about a handful of characters guarding something called the "hellmouth" that releases all order of evil into the world on a regular basis. But I think that's just it, the show shines in the face of darkness.
For example, my favorite episode of all time is one called "lover's walk," which takes place in season three. In this episode, Spike, a British vamp, who dresses like the lead singer of the sex pistols and is particularly bad ass (as opposed to generally bad ass, I guess), who has just been spurned by his psycho vamp lover, Drusilla, returns to Sunnydale (the venue of the show for all seven of its seasons) to make Willow, Buffy's friend, who's been dabbling in the black arts, concoct a love potion for him. First of all, this is wonderful because the rebel without a cause comes crawling home whining and not very dangerous in his temporarily neutered state, a perfect example of the fragility of villainy. But a quick dose of the action in always happening old Sunnydale provides a much needed restorative, and he drives off into the sunset (with his windows spray-painted black to avoid immolation of course) to chain and torture his mad X until she sees reason.
Remarkably, minus the girlfriend torture, this is very close to how I feel when I watch the show. I might start in a pouty mood but after a full shot of its wit, pep, and action, I become a new man.
Here are some other passing observations I've had in attempting to account for the show's magnetic attraction:
The heroes are all highly self-critical; that is, humble. But this means that they're not always raring to go. And the show deals with this constant battle against the demons of motivation in addition to the ones that draw real blood.
Lines like Buffy's "I didn't jump to conclusions. I took a small step, and conclusions there were." or Spike's "If every vampire who said he was at the Crucifixion was actually there it would've been like Woodstock. I was at Woodstock. I fed off a flower person and I spent six hours watching my hand move."
The fact that the characters manage to be more than their occupations, their objectives, or their desires. Sometimes the show lets you simply enjoy their company as they dally.
And finally, the presence of magic. I'm normally not a massive fantasy fan although I take in the occasional otherworldly flic. But the episodes premised on magic lead to some highly amusing situations, like a botched love spell that makes one man the scarily obsessed over crush of every woman who comes near him; an invoked amulet that makes everyone burst out in song, turning Sunnydale into Brigadoon; or another spell gone wrong that makes the scooby gang (as Buffy and her friends are often called) all forget their memory and stand around for half the episode figuring out who they are. Not only do these episodes that are based on a slightly tweaked or completely eliminated law of nature provide oodles of entertainment, they somehow manage to further explore the personality of the characters and further move the plot along.
I'm sure that it will never become perfectly clear why Buffy so captures my heart, and I probably won't ever know since my inability to judge it with a level head is part of the reason I love it. It does something emotionally that no technical masterpiece could ever do intellectually.
4 comments:
I like how much you like Buffy, Kevin.
Have you and Jen seen Twin Peaks? Reading this makes me think that you might enjoy it. It's one of my favorite t.v. shows ever (up until about episode 20 or so).
And I know exactly what you're talking about with the new media in times of stress thing. I used to have a finals week tradition of watching all the Whit Stillman films over and over again in chronological order until I finished my papers.
Oh god - I can't handle twin peaks. That Bob guy - whoa. And the short guy, and the tall guy! So scary.
Makes me wonder if Muholland drive would have turned out to be another have-cheer-in-the-face-of-darkness show if it had gone on to be a series as Lynch intended.
Yeah, it is scary. I tend to forget that the first time I saw it, it scared the crap out of me. Maybe that's why all I remember most of the time is how hilarious it is. Some kind of traumatic defense mechanism.
But anytime you guys want to watch Down with Love, let me know :)
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