Why Writers Should Watch Buffy, Part 2

Dear blog,

Last week you were angry with me for writing about Buffy the Vampire Slayer. You said some unkind things. You may have called me a low-brow loser still obsessed with a show that’s been off the air for almost a decade, and suggested I read more Nabakov. Fair enough. I should read more Nabakov. But first I am going to finish what I started, and give all the imaginary writers reading this a brief guide to the seven seasons of Buffy, and suggest what they, as writers, should be looking to glean from their viewing experience.

Watch season 1 for the giggles – they are so cute! It is so silly! – and for the poignancy of superhero Buffy striving for a normal life while also kicking vampire butt. This is urban fantasy (with a dash of paranormal romance!) at its best. More than that, watch it for the final episode when they (meaning the writers of the show) figure it out, the potential of this particular premise with these particular performers. Sarah Michelle Gellar rocks the simple line: “I’m sixteen years old. I don’t want to die.” The superhero quits, then unquits, then dies, then saves the world, then goes to prom. Watching season 1 is like reading a first draft, and seeing the moment when it all clicks into place, offering the first glimpse of the incredible story it’s going to become.

Watch season 2 for the paaaaaaain. While the show becomes more sure-footed and sharper in the following seasons, I still believe that nothing in the series tops the Angelus arc for sheer cathartic angst. Here is a primer in how to twist the knife, how to take your reader into far darker territory than they are expecting, how to show your character’s strength in adversity, how to let them be strong and vulnerable at the same time, how to shock your reader with just how far you’re willing to go. Do I need a spoiler alert for a show that’s been off the air this long? Well, if you have not seen the show, and intend to see the show, do not read the following because it is a major SPOILER: In my opinion, there is no moment in the series, with the possible exception of the spectacular ending to season 5, that matches the moment at the very end of season 2, when Buffy runs Angel through with a sword (Buffy at her strongest) and then crumples (Buffy at her most devastated).

Watch season 3 for its brilliant portrayal of a character’s descent into darkness (slayer Faith), and for the Mayor (played by Harry Groener), who is hi-larious, then can turn on a dime and terrify. This is possibly the strongest season in its confident blend of comedy, darkness, rich metaphor, and increasingly complicated, meaningful relationships. Also: an excellent how-to if you are fumbling around trying to write your villain.

Watch season 4 for the way the show moves out of its comfort zone (high school) and lets the characters tackle young adulthood. There are superb standalone episodes here, in particular the dream-sequence finale, which allows the viewer inside the psyches of our beloved characters, giving dark hints of what is to come. This is powerful stuff. Though it’s one of my favorite seasons, its uncertain arc is a “don’t-do-that”: a promising premise (our beloved Scoobies up against the Initiative, run by the ruthless Maggie Walsh – though I was uncomfortable with the One-And-Only slightly “butch,” non-girly woman in the show being Eeevil) stumbles mid-season, and we are left with the second-lamest villain the show ever concocted.

Watch S5 for how to get truly epic, how to keep on raising the stakes, and how to craft an ending so stunningly beautiful and so unexpected, you can rip out your reader’s heart and lay it to rest with a light joke that will only make them cry harder, if they can catch their breath to cry at all.

Watch season 6 for its experimentation with a much darker tone, and its exploration of consequences. The season as a whole is hit-and-miss, marred by the too-obvious magic-as-heroin metaphor, and lacking some of the sparkle of previous seasons, but I love it for the raw pain of Buffy’s return to the world, her twisted relationship with the vampire Spike, and for being brave enough to let our ever-quippy Buffy truly pay the price for her calling, not just in loss, but within herself. The takeaway: consequences are crucial to believability, your characters do need to pay for the things they do and the things that happen to them, and should change accordingly.

Watch season 7 for the brilliant episode Conversations with Dead People, for badass high school principal Robin Wood, for the return of charismatic slayer-gone-bad-gone-good-again Faith, and for the hilarity and hotness of Faith and Robin Wood getting it on. Oh, and for Buffy plucking the immovable scythe out of the rock, in her lovely King Arthur moment. There’s not much other reason to watch the scrambled and uneven season 7, but honestly, those are reasons enough, unless you’re really busy. Oh, and Nathan Fillion is in it, so there’s that, too.

OK, blog, you’ve been very patient and I really am done writing about Buffy. For now. At some point I do want to do a “close reading” of an episode or two, and write about character deaths in more detail. Until then, I will read some Nabakov and try to win back your good opinion.

Yours, obsessively,

Catherine