Catherine Egan's Blog - Posts Tagged "buffy"
(10 Reasons) Why Writers Should Watch Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Dear Blog,
I vaguely remember watching my first episode or two of Buffy The Vampire Slayer with a friend who couldn’t shut off the running commentary, a long, long time ago. “She’s a witch,” he explained, in what I found at the time a peculiarly avid-with-a-side-of-sheepish way. “They’re both witches. They’re gay. That’s their cat.” Uh-huh.
It didn’t make an impression, at the time.
A few years later, in a dreary Tokyo suburb, That Guy sat me down to watch his newly acquired Buffy DVDs. (Reader: I married him). He showed me a few episodes from the early seasons, out of order, trying to find the right one to hook me with. The hook turned out to be the two-part episode Innocence and Surprise, in which Buffy loses her virginity and her vampire lover loses his soul (before such things were the stuff of cliché). Schmaltzy moments in the first ep notwithstanding, I was struck by the raw pain Sarah Michelle Gellar conveyed as Buffy, and entirely won over by this girl who had to save the world first and nurse her broken heart afterwards. The very end of the episode (rather embarrassingly, since That Guy and I were still a sort-of newish couple) actually made me cry. I was a convert. I told That Guy we were starting from the beginning, Season 1, episode 1, and watching the whole damn series. And we did.
Buffy is a show a lot of writers get quite frothy about (to name a few of my own favourites, Susanna Clarke, Patrick Rothfuss, and Justine Larbelastier are all self-proclaimed fans). It has absolutely had an impact on my own writing, and while writing for TV is, I’m sure (I’ve never tried it), very different from writing a novel, I think watching the show is a totally valid form of “study” for any serious (or non-serious) writer. Here, then, is a list of reasons for writers to watch, and rewatch:
1. The dialogue. Oh my god, the dialogue! The central characters manage to sound both like authentic teenagers, and also (importantly) far wittier and sharper than any actual authentic teenagers. Once you know the show a little, you could read any line in the series and know exactly which character says it. Their voices are so distinctive, so entirely theirs, that you could never mistake them.
2. The rrrrromance. The series has something for everyone, and provides great examples of how to fire up (and shatter) relationships that viewers / readers care about, without just doing the same thing over and over again. For Twoo Wuv, schmaltzy romance for supper and searing pain for dessert, Buffy and Angel is the ship for you. For the wreckage addiction can make of a perfect relationship, see Willow and Tara. For opposites-attract humor, some very real sweetness, and some very real sadness, see Xander and Anya, or for that matter, Xander and Cordelia. For a complicated adult(ish) relationship in which trying hard isn’t quite enough to make up for its lopsidedness (“she doesn’t love me” Riley says, without self-pity, in one of his finer, more clear-eyed moments), see Buffy and Riley. For hot sex and self-loathing, see Buffy and Spike. For Cute All Over, see Willow and Oz (“All monkeys are French – you didn’t know that?”). For creeps, see Spike and Druscilla. The romantic relationships keep moving and growing with the characters. They (usually) don’t work out, much as you (sometimes) want them to.
3. It is freaking hilarious, and it will also make you cry, often. The magical blend of drama, horror, sex, and sharp, brilliant comedy is a writer’s dream. Note to self: learn how to do that.
4. It is character-driven and never stagnant. The characters grow. The relationships change. This is a big part of what makes re-watching such a pleasure. It is so poignant going back to the first season to watch the characters you’ve grown to love at the beginning of their journey, before all the loss and change you know is headed their way. Nobody watches Buffy for the special effects. People will read your stories if they want to follow your characters. They will reread them (and recommend them to all their friends!) if they fall in love with those characters.
5. It takes risks. I think the show does this every season in its willingness to change, to shake things up, to end successful pairings and to let its characters grow up, move on, or die, but the most obvious, famous examples of risk-taking are the episodes in which the show’s creators try something entirely different. In Hush (season 4), demons steal the voices of everyone in town, rendering our characters mute for the entire episode, and the result is spectacular. A show more driven by excellent dialogue than anything else I’ve seen on television proves how entirely successful, how hilarious, how suspenseful, and how moving it can be, without any dialogue. (The remarkable actors provide comedy gold here – it is one of the funnier, scarier episodes in the series). In season 6, another demon (there is always a convenient demon on hand!) has the whole town breaking into song. Once More With Feeling is a one-hour musical of original songs. It is a fan favorite, and has spawned singalong viewings all over North America. It is entirely original and surprising, and like all the best episodes, it drives the action forward, offering laughter with one fist, loss and pain with the other. Plus, catchy songs! If there is a lesson here, it is not to get caught in a rut of “what has worked so far,” but to keep pushing your own comfort zone, trying to do something you have no idea how to do.
6. Death is Your Gift. Beloved characters can and sometimes should die. While the fandom is by no means in agreement on this, I felt nearly every death in the series was, in retrospect, essential. To up the stakes, to show us nobody is safe (no matter how popular they may be), to drive the other characters forward in necessary ways (I could write a whole separate blog post on this). And of course, to break our hearts, again, and again, and again. Buffy is nothing if not cathartic.
7. Villains are more interesting when they love someone, when in spite of ourselves we are forced to empathize with their desires and their suffering. While there is something to be said for almost all the Big Bads that make Sunnydale truly hell for Buffy and her friends, the most successful, in my opinion, are the villains we feel for most: Vampire Spike, with his devotion to his mad lover Druscilla, and the evil, immortal Mayor, whose fatherly love for bad-slayer Faith and her own uncertain, touching reciprocation shows us who she might have been if she’d been loved by somebody not bent on becoming a giant demon-snake-thing. Villains who love are richer and more interesting characters, and it complicates the viewing / reading experience, because we care about them, evil as they are.
8. The show is sometimes bad. You can see the cracks, and learn from them as well. For example, when trying to bring your epic series to a close, do not turn your main character into a boring, didactic bossy-pants and introduce a whole passel of distracting, annoying new characters (I hate you, season 7, except for the bits I love). For all that the writing is (rightly!) revered, there is a lot of sloppy writing too. I suspect this is the inevitable result of trying to hack out 22+ episodes a year. The series does not offer the perfectionist, finely wrought television experience of, say, The Wire or Mad Men. The romances in the early seasons can be cheesy, the plots sometimes providing little more than a weak scaffolding for overwrought emotional moments, the motivations on occasion imperceptible beyond convenience. There are plenty of “Don’t-Do-That” lessons in a show that I still maintain is more loveable and re-watchable than many less flawed shows.
9. This show knows pain, and how to deliver it. Joss Whedon wants to hurt you. True Fact.
10. Passes Bechdel’s Test with flying colors, and so should everything you write. A blog post for another time might be “Why Writers (and everyone else) should read Alison Bechdel’s graphic novels”, but anyway, in a now 20+ year old strip, the rule (about movies, but it applies to any story with characters in it) is described thusly: (1) It has to have at least two women in it, (2) who talk to each other, (3) about something besides a man. Yup.
I know, blog, I know. This is supposed to be a books-and-writing blog, and I am talking about television. But good storytelling is good storytelling, and like it or not, I’m citing Joss Whedon et al as major influences, um, if anybody ever asks. Next week: a guide to what writers can look for in each of the seven seasons of Buffy.
Yours, still pathetically missing the show ten years on,
Catherine
I vaguely remember watching my first episode or two of Buffy The Vampire Slayer with a friend who couldn’t shut off the running commentary, a long, long time ago. “She’s a witch,” he explained, in what I found at the time a peculiarly avid-with-a-side-of-sheepish way. “They’re both witches. They’re gay. That’s their cat.” Uh-huh.
It didn’t make an impression, at the time.
A few years later, in a dreary Tokyo suburb, That Guy sat me down to watch his newly acquired Buffy DVDs. (Reader: I married him). He showed me a few episodes from the early seasons, out of order, trying to find the right one to hook me with. The hook turned out to be the two-part episode Innocence and Surprise, in which Buffy loses her virginity and her vampire lover loses his soul (before such things were the stuff of cliché). Schmaltzy moments in the first ep notwithstanding, I was struck by the raw pain Sarah Michelle Gellar conveyed as Buffy, and entirely won over by this girl who had to save the world first and nurse her broken heart afterwards. The very end of the episode (rather embarrassingly, since That Guy and I were still a sort-of newish couple) actually made me cry. I was a convert. I told That Guy we were starting from the beginning, Season 1, episode 1, and watching the whole damn series. And we did.
Buffy is a show a lot of writers get quite frothy about (to name a few of my own favourites, Susanna Clarke, Patrick Rothfuss, and Justine Larbelastier are all self-proclaimed fans). It has absolutely had an impact on my own writing, and while writing for TV is, I’m sure (I’ve never tried it), very different from writing a novel, I think watching the show is a totally valid form of “study” for any serious (or non-serious) writer. Here, then, is a list of reasons for writers to watch, and rewatch:
1. The dialogue. Oh my god, the dialogue! The central characters manage to sound both like authentic teenagers, and also (importantly) far wittier and sharper than any actual authentic teenagers. Once you know the show a little, you could read any line in the series and know exactly which character says it. Their voices are so distinctive, so entirely theirs, that you could never mistake them.
2. The rrrrromance. The series has something for everyone, and provides great examples of how to fire up (and shatter) relationships that viewers / readers care about, without just doing the same thing over and over again. For Twoo Wuv, schmaltzy romance for supper and searing pain for dessert, Buffy and Angel is the ship for you. For the wreckage addiction can make of a perfect relationship, see Willow and Tara. For opposites-attract humor, some very real sweetness, and some very real sadness, see Xander and Anya, or for that matter, Xander and Cordelia. For a complicated adult(ish) relationship in which trying hard isn’t quite enough to make up for its lopsidedness (“she doesn’t love me” Riley says, without self-pity, in one of his finer, more clear-eyed moments), see Buffy and Riley. For hot sex and self-loathing, see Buffy and Spike. For Cute All Over, see Willow and Oz (“All monkeys are French – you didn’t know that?”). For creeps, see Spike and Druscilla. The romantic relationships keep moving and growing with the characters. They (usually) don’t work out, much as you (sometimes) want them to.
3. It is freaking hilarious, and it will also make you cry, often. The magical blend of drama, horror, sex, and sharp, brilliant comedy is a writer’s dream. Note to self: learn how to do that.
4. It is character-driven and never stagnant. The characters grow. The relationships change. This is a big part of what makes re-watching such a pleasure. It is so poignant going back to the first season to watch the characters you’ve grown to love at the beginning of their journey, before all the loss and change you know is headed their way. Nobody watches Buffy for the special effects. People will read your stories if they want to follow your characters. They will reread them (and recommend them to all their friends!) if they fall in love with those characters.
5. It takes risks. I think the show does this every season in its willingness to change, to shake things up, to end successful pairings and to let its characters grow up, move on, or die, but the most obvious, famous examples of risk-taking are the episodes in which the show’s creators try something entirely different. In Hush (season 4), demons steal the voices of everyone in town, rendering our characters mute for the entire episode, and the result is spectacular. A show more driven by excellent dialogue than anything else I’ve seen on television proves how entirely successful, how hilarious, how suspenseful, and how moving it can be, without any dialogue. (The remarkable actors provide comedy gold here – it is one of the funnier, scarier episodes in the series). In season 6, another demon (there is always a convenient demon on hand!) has the whole town breaking into song. Once More With Feeling is a one-hour musical of original songs. It is a fan favorite, and has spawned singalong viewings all over North America. It is entirely original and surprising, and like all the best episodes, it drives the action forward, offering laughter with one fist, loss and pain with the other. Plus, catchy songs! If there is a lesson here, it is not to get caught in a rut of “what has worked so far,” but to keep pushing your own comfort zone, trying to do something you have no idea how to do.
6. Death is Your Gift. Beloved characters can and sometimes should die. While the fandom is by no means in agreement on this, I felt nearly every death in the series was, in retrospect, essential. To up the stakes, to show us nobody is safe (no matter how popular they may be), to drive the other characters forward in necessary ways (I could write a whole separate blog post on this). And of course, to break our hearts, again, and again, and again. Buffy is nothing if not cathartic.
7. Villains are more interesting when they love someone, when in spite of ourselves we are forced to empathize with their desires and their suffering. While there is something to be said for almost all the Big Bads that make Sunnydale truly hell for Buffy and her friends, the most successful, in my opinion, are the villains we feel for most: Vampire Spike, with his devotion to his mad lover Druscilla, and the evil, immortal Mayor, whose fatherly love for bad-slayer Faith and her own uncertain, touching reciprocation shows us who she might have been if she’d been loved by somebody not bent on becoming a giant demon-snake-thing. Villains who love are richer and more interesting characters, and it complicates the viewing / reading experience, because we care about them, evil as they are.
8. The show is sometimes bad. You can see the cracks, and learn from them as well. For example, when trying to bring your epic series to a close, do not turn your main character into a boring, didactic bossy-pants and introduce a whole passel of distracting, annoying new characters (I hate you, season 7, except for the bits I love). For all that the writing is (rightly!) revered, there is a lot of sloppy writing too. I suspect this is the inevitable result of trying to hack out 22+ episodes a year. The series does not offer the perfectionist, finely wrought television experience of, say, The Wire or Mad Men. The romances in the early seasons can be cheesy, the plots sometimes providing little more than a weak scaffolding for overwrought emotional moments, the motivations on occasion imperceptible beyond convenience. There are plenty of “Don’t-Do-That” lessons in a show that I still maintain is more loveable and re-watchable than many less flawed shows.
9. This show knows pain, and how to deliver it. Joss Whedon wants to hurt you. True Fact.
10. Passes Bechdel’s Test with flying colors, and so should everything you write. A blog post for another time might be “Why Writers (and everyone else) should read Alison Bechdel’s graphic novels”, but anyway, in a now 20+ year old strip, the rule (about movies, but it applies to any story with characters in it) is described thusly: (1) It has to have at least two women in it, (2) who talk to each other, (3) about something besides a man. Yup.
I know, blog, I know. This is supposed to be a books-and-writing blog, and I am talking about television. But good storytelling is good storytelling, and like it or not, I’m citing Joss Whedon et al as major influences, um, if anybody ever asks. Next week: a guide to what writers can look for in each of the seven seasons of Buffy.
Yours, still pathetically missing the show ten years on,
Catherine
