"In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer." - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Opening Credits
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Complete First Season DVD Review
By Marlo Serritella
Perhaps it was the name that kept so many of you away. Your questions were valid: Who was this "Buffy," and was she "slaying" these vampires with her superb comedic timing or a pointy stick? Buffy sounds like a girl who has to cheat off your Chemistry mid-term because she was up late making out with her dumb (but hot) jock of a boyfriend. Her resume might include looking perky in a cheerleading uniform and grappling with the fear that Ross and Rachel won't end up together. She certainly doesn't sound like she could do anything other than grasp her heaving bosom should she run into a vampire. And that, for all you nay Sayers, non-believers and detractors--is exactly the point of the show. This Buffy, played masterfully by Sarah Michelle Gellar, can date the school hottie, stir the jealousy of the brooding leading man, battle the undead and save her friends from certain death all in the same night (while wearing a fabulous ensemble, natch). But don't dare compare her to Farrah, Wonder Woman, or any of the other jiggly television butt-kickers of primetime past. When the first ever Buffy the Vampire Slayer aired on March 10, 1997, it was clear-this wasn't your parents' vampire story, and it certainly wasn't your ordinary TV hero.
Created by Joss Whedon (please take a moment to kneel) and first introduced to the world via the failed movie version, BtVS subverts everything we, the popcorn-eating, nail-biting audience, have come to expect from horror movies. Lest you think that this groundbreaking show simply plays with a few stereotypes, make no mistake. Buffy the Vampire Slayer doesn't just turn the entire horror genre on its head (blond girl feared instead of hunted); it reinvents what a feminist hero can mean, and in the process creates a figure that, for the devout, has become nothing short of an icon. For years now, philosophers have debated the significance of BtVS, its interpretation of ethics, contribution to popular culture and relationship to Christian mythos (no, I'm completely serious). Volumes have been written about Buffy and postmodernism, fascism, utilitarianism and Marxism, as well as a whole host of other "ism's" beloved by liberal arts grad students. For my money, this little show that started humbly as a mid-season replacement on the once fledgling WB network isn't only one of the best-written, wildly smart, witty and sexy pieces of entertainment to come out of the vast wasteland of television; it's also a unique commentary on love, sacrifice, morality, friendship, violence, religion, feminism and maybe most importantly-redemption. This doesn't mean that you can't just enjoy the show without pondering the meaning of existence, but I dare you to try.
The two-part pilot episode opens on a guy and girl breaking into a high school for a little mischief and probably some heavy petting ("Welcome to the Hellmouth"). The audience knows what's coming of course. Dressed in her virginal plaid mini-skirt and whimpering about "get[ting] in trouble" for their transgression, the Catholic-school girl is clearly marked for death. But when blondie turns out to be the undead bloodsucker, well, Dorothy, we are clearly not in Kansas anymore. Cut to Buffy's first day at Sunnydale High where we are introduced to the ensemble in a way that endears these characters without ever being manipulative or obvious. Attempting to ask Buffy if she needs help with the spilled contents of her book bag, Xander (Nicholas Brendon) fumbles the first time he opens his mouth: "Can I have you?" When resident miss priss, Cordelia (Charisma Carpenter) greets Willow (Alyson Hannigan) with a sharp insult about her "softer side of Sears" style, it's clear who Buffy will befriend. And when the devastatingly handsome Angel (David Boreanaz) introduces himself as "a friend," who "doesn't bite," it's all this girl can do to keep from hoping for just a little nibble.
It's not until the "extreme dead guy" falls out of a gym locker and Buffy confronts Mr. Giles (Anthony Head)-school librarian and the "Watcher" assigned to train the Slayer-that we learn not only about her destiny as the "chosen one" but her initial rejection of it. Hidden in the library stacks ala Three's Company, Xander unwittingly overhears this conversation revealing Buffy's secret identity (minus the wacky misunderstanding). But it's not until Xander and Willow see the dust from the show's very first slain vampire that they come into the fold. Hoping to save their friend who has been kidnapped, Buffy, Willow and Xander assemble around Giles in the library where they devise a plan for the first of what will be seven glorious seasons of rescue missions. And thus, the Holy Trinity is born. By the time the second installment of the pilot ends with "The Harvest," we've learned that Buffy will continuously struggle with her sacred duty ("I'm retired"); that she initially considers this a solo gig ("there is no 'we,' I'm the Slayer); and that she can spot vampires by their lack of fashion sense ("deal with that outfit for a moment.") Who am I kidding? They had me at hello.
While it might be tempting to categorize BtVS as just another show populated with teenage characters who, when convenient, attend high school in sunny California; these kids inhabit an entirely unique zip code. As the twelve-episode season unfolds, Whedon skillfully depicts the trials and tribulations of high school life like no other show before or since. (Calm down, I loved My So-Called Life too, though in a very different way). But don't hold your breath for "a very special Buffy." Instead, every week offers a new opportunity to giggle like a schoolgirl and have your heart ripped out all in the same moment. However, BtVS doesn't exactly examine teenage angst under a microscope. Whedon's perspective is more like looking through a prism; yet, somehow the strange distortion makes the humor and the pain all the more sharp. In the world we live in, a girl's mother will kill you for that coveted spot on the cheerleading squad. In Buffy's world, she might do it by switching bodies with her daughter through dark magic (big diff). What's a little trans-possession among mothers and daughters? ("The Witch"). That clique of intimidating cool kids who roam the halls looking for prey really is a pack of wild animals ("The Pack"); the substitute teacher may actually eat you alive ("Teacher's Pet"); and that wall-flower who everyone ignores will literally become invisible, making it convenient for her to slice and dice the reigning May Queen ("Out of Sight, Out of Mind"). Just enjoy the ride and thank God that Mr. Whedon clearly had a dateless high school existence.
In case you haven't caught on already, high school truly is demonic. Built on the "mouth of hell," Sunnydale is at the convergence of all things mystical. This might explain why a really cranky vampire, who's older than dirt and known only as "The Master," spends the entire season in an effort to break free from an inter-dimensional portal, bring hell to earth and end the world. I'm not sure delicious is a word I should use to describe such a villainous creature, but how else would you characterize a demon who wants his band of vampires to function as a family (not to mention that the actor portraying him is better known as Neidemeyer from Animal House)? How about yummy? In the season finale, Buffy learns that a prophecy foretells that not only will she face The Master, but she'll die in the process ("Prophecy Girl"). Facing her death at the tender age of 16, Buffy ultimately embraces her sacred duty. Makes you feel a little bit guilty about bitching about the SAT.
After the "feeble banter portion of the fight," The Master does in fact leave our drowned hero to die. But, while Buffy may be in love with Angel (the vampire with a soul who we'll get to in season 2), it's the unrequited love of Xander that ultimately breaths life back into her body. So, our savior dies, is resurrected and defeats evil and death: "I may be dead, but I'm still pretty." This leaves me questioning when Whedon will just fess up and come out of the Christian closet already. (No one is buying this whole atheism thing.) The season ends, and you're left wondering how you ever got along without this "little girl" who has a special gift for saving the world. It's not just that she embraces the possibility of her death in a white satin prom dress; it's not just that she comments on her foe's "fruit punch mouth" before she dusts him; it's that we believe our lives are better for knowing her. Thank God, or thank Joss Whedon-to the Buffy devotee, it's just semantics.
