"Arbitrar Of Quality" <tsmtsm@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
> wrote in message
news:56612ddd-a1d5-4d08-8e97-65c90acae3fe@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
> BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER
> Season Seven, Episode 5: "Selfless"
> A story like this requires that the series dip into its
> bag of continuity, and it rises to the occasion, finding clever ways
> to work in things like Willow's ongoing struggle with herself, and her
> amulet from years ago, and what D'Hoffryn is really like.
At times it does tend into continuity ****, especially when going for the
laugh. And there sure is a lot of it. But its function in demonstrating
depth of character and story is astounding in effect. Even the seemingly
throw away jokes over her original name - Aud - ultimately speak to Anya's
lack of personal identity. The humor of it (and that of the whole
episode)
also serves wonderfully to make this a frequently bright feeling episode
in
spite of very dark underlying content. Of course that's trademark BtVS.
But seldom does it pull it off this well.
> My original
> reaction to the brilliantly constructed argument was "ye gods, what a
> great scene," and indeed it is. It's the best "Scoobies arguing"
> sequence, even better than that other one that was so good, and that
> other other one.
Again I'm fascinated at how well it speaks to the S7 themes of the slayer
power all resting on Buffy alone. Arguably it might lay it out better
than
CWDP - perhaps because of the way this conversation ties it back to the
series history of Buffy bearing the burden alone. It certainly sets the
foundation for coming conflict with the Scoobies.
At the same time - in the very best of a BtVS tradition that has always
amazed me - it is spot on for the moment and the immediate crisis at hand.
Indeed, it may be the episode's peak. This ability to layer multiple
powerful implications into a single sequence (it also introduces the
tension
of Buffy expecting more from a reluctant Willow) without sacrificing any
element in favor of another has an awful lot to do with my love affair
with
this series.
> Something that I appreciated comes during the confrontation between
> Anya and Buffy. Something new this viewing, I mean, so that's in
> addition to the already acknowledged killer act break and the equally
> wonderful jump from song to present day. Anya's line "c'mon, Buffy.
> Don't you have a clever retort for me?" calls attention to the way our
> hero is almost completely silent during the fight sequence. Buffy's
> tried to kill her friends before, but this is set apart from the other
> times by her sheer intensity. This is a Slayer, doing what she sees
> as the thoroughly unpleasant job that no one else can.
Buffy's silence during their fight is one of the episode's curiosities to
me. I'll echo Don's observation that Buffy seems to stand there waiting
for
Anya to revive after being stabbed - as if she knew full well that it
wasn't
a killing blow. I don't know if that means she's actively trying to find
another solution - the information available seems insufficient to
confidently assert that. But at the least I believe we're seeing a real
reluctance on Buffy's part. Indeed, in the next episode Buffy will rescue
Anya and bring her under Buffy's wing as one of Buffy's friends - "friend"
specifically used.
I think this is interesting in light of the earlier big argument. Buffy's
logic is pretty much irrefutable - even Willow knows she has no choice.
And
the Angel story effectively establishes that the decision matters to her
in
they way Xander accuses her of it not.
Be that as it may, Buffy's apparent attitude still rings a little hollow
in
light of her history of refusing the expedient solution when faced with no
evident choice. That was a big theme at the end of S3 with regards to
saving both Willow and Angel. And even a bigger theme at the end of S5
with
regards to saving Dawn. As we discussed some back in S2, I've always felt
that skewering Angel in Becoming was so devastating to Buffy that, at
least
subconsciously, she swore to never do that again. Which she's pretty much
lived up to (with the possible exception of Faith, but that gets into side
complexities I don't care to get into now), all the way to choosing her
own
death instead.
So letting go of that stubborn refusal to compromise with those she cares
about scares me some. It's flirting with letting go of her heart as
guiding
light. We'll get more of that this season as she speaks with Giles of her
willingness to make hard decisions; as she pushes Willow and Spike into
risking life, limb and soul; as she treats potentials harshly and
distances
herself from them.
But even though the surface level plot of the season leads to a horrible
break between Buffy and friends as she seemingly is too ready to sacrifice
them for her dubious objectives; there is much to counter that
perspective.
We also see Buffy refuse the dose of demon power because it would take
away
from her humanity. Even though she tries to convince herself that
distancing herself from the potentials will ease the pain of their loss,
we
see her break down privately when one dies. And most of all, Buffy's
stubborn determination to save Spike evidences the same refusal to give
into
expediency that she's held since Becoming.
So I do like to think that something was staying Buffy's hand as she
battled
Anya. Perhaps Xander's words - as un-artful as they were - prodded
Buffy's
heart just enough. The tightrope balancing of attitudes certainly fits
with
the seasonal themes. Also, the repeat of the Becoming scenario of
swordfight while Willow seeks a solution off-stage, differs in the very
im****tant respect that this time Willow intercedes in time. A sequence
that
also pre-sages the series finale of working the critical magic off-stage
while the slayer army tries to survive.
> All in all, I
> rank this as my second favorite episode of _Buffy_, fini****ng behind
> only "Innocence," whose emotional impact is a little more
> overwhelming. One could make the case that "Selfless" is the deeper
> and more substantive of the two, though.
> Rating: SUPERLATIVE
Also one of my favorites, though not quite as high as #2. Rated as
Excellent by me - but I don't have a Superlative rating. I don't have a
feeling for what the dividing line for that would be.
> Season Seven, Episode 6: "Him"
> Writer: Drew Z. Greenberg
> Director: Michael Gershman
>
> What is it that drives a person or people to come up with something
> like Dawn's cheerleading scene? Is there someone who's actually
> amused by the ritual humiliation of theoretically beloved characters?
The scene is mainly about Dawn's sense of hopeless inadequacy. She's
surrounded by people so much more capable than she that it's hopeless for
her to try to match them. When she tries, she makes a fool of herself.
The
same thing had been done earlier when she attempted to have a conversation
with the in crowd in the hallway. And gets repeated on a much grander
scale
when she finds herself in competition with Buffy, Willow & Anya. Most
im****tantly, of course, is the competition with Buffy. The hopelessness
of
it ultimately leads to the suicide attempt as the only way to top them and
get the attention she deserves.
One might carry that further to see it as a response to submerged feelings
about Buffy's death in The Gift. A learned response to hopelessness - and
a
great way to get attention.
I'm not wild about going that deep into a pretty slight episode, but I
think
you have the wrong idea about the scene. I think it's primarily a
character
moment for Dawn where the point very much is supposed to be how Dawn feels
humiliated by the experience. I believe we're supposed to feel sympathy
for
her more so than enjoy her humiliation. To the extent that we do laugh,
we're supposed to feel a little guilty about it. The humorous elements
partly feeds that guilt, but also ease the anguish by softening it some
with
a little natural awkwardness and ineptitude of youth - something we can
both
empathize with and smile at because we know that it will be grown out of.
Probably in part through enduring it.
> It's also possible that the viewer is meant to be cringing out of
> sympathy, but BTVS usually does that by playing for realism and
> universality. Whereas this scene comes in a "comedy" episode through
> a situation that's so contrived that any hope for empathy dissipates.
You've never found yourself in a position that's out of your league?
> The only other thing I even feel like talking about again is the
> nonsense surrounding D'Hoffryn trying to have Anya killed after
> pointedly passing up the chance to do so last week. It's not merely a
> stupid storyline, it's also a non-starter; this topic is briefly
> addressed once more over the whole season, and otherwise disappears
> without explanation. The net effect is the unpleasant feeling that
> the writers aren't paying attention to their own storylines.
The one thing I like about that scene is how it shows Buffy accepting Anya
unreservedly - even acknowledging her as friend. Part of S7's story of
Buffy seeing the possibility for redemption in Willow, Anya, Andrew and,
most especially, Spike. Indeed, this parallels the start of that story
for
Spike. Perhaps the experience of Selfless really moved Buffy to act.
What I really dislike about it - even more than your quite accurate
observation - is the way bringing Anya into the Summer's house (and in
close
contact with Xander) undermines the beautiful conclusion of Selfless where
she finally determines to find her true self, and finally forgives Xander,
but in a final separation sort of way. This episode tries to explain it
away with words, but the kind of words that sound an awful lot like
writers
scrambling to change their minds.
It's not all bad. A decent effort will be made to confront Anya's
specific
problem with rejection, leading to a pretty terrific scene of she and
Xander
having *** again. But other than her end of season musings about the
nature
of humans, I don't think the character ever really recovers from the
interrupted self sufficiency. It's one of my greater disappointments in
S7.
> Rating: Bad
A minor episode with little engaging in it. (Though I continue to like
Buffy with the rocket launcher.) I suppose that officially it kicks off
the
ensuing Spike mini-arc, but really CWDP is the clearer beginning. As a
character episode for Dawn it doesn't seem to achieve much. It's not like
we need a new episode to tell us that Dawn has trust issues with Buffy.
Nor
is this terribly effective at reliving the magic of BB&B - even for those
who liked BB&B. So the episode pretty much demands a poor rating. I just
don't particularly hate it. So it gets a Weak from me rather than Bad.
Still, it's one of the worst episodes of the series.
> Season Seven, Episode 7: "Conversations With Dead People"
> CWDP is an odd one. It's well known by now how it was slapped
> together and all the collaboration-without-interaction and last-minute
> changes that went into it. The end result is strangely unified. I
> still think it's a rather brilliant premise for a concept episode,
> kicked off by a candidate for best teaser on any of Joss's shows (I
> could probably watch just that opening over and over). "Here we go."
> Not everything works perfectly. Dawn's segments are loud and
> screamy. As great as Azura Skye is, I can only read the scripts and
> think of how much more punch it would've had to have the First be
> Tara. Buffy allegedly opening up mostly just seems like her re-
> telling stories we've already heard. The Buffy/Holden thing is the
> big part that doesn't quite do what it's meant to, being simply an
> entertaining conversation and not the introspective (super)human drama
> that's needed to be the base of a mood-piece episode. I don't think
> the superiority/inferiority complex thing, which is apparently the big
> punchline of that part of the story, is particularly revealing or even
> lays much foundation for Buffy's future actions. The result is that
> Holden mainly exists as a font of one-liners and a mechanism to reveal
> the plot point about Spike. But enough works that it clicks often.
> Sure, the actors are on top of their game, and the jokes have a high
> success rate (I kinda want to see the longest version of the "check"
> scene that Strong and Lenk were able to manage, as mentioned on the
> commentary). And sure, Willow's part is quite heart-wrenching, and
> the twists at the end (all of them, but especially Spike) are real
> shocks. There's more to it. The teaser's tone persists through the
> whole thing, because the way the four storylines are cut together lets
> them balance each other out. One would think the screechiness of the
> Dawn part in particular would clash horrifically with the pensive
> Buffy and Willow sequences, but as some people have pointed out, the
> haunted house provides the episode with an infusion of action. That's
> then able to spill over to make the other stories feel like they, too,
> are ramping up to something big. The mix of longing (yeah, I really
> like longing), confusion, and simple weeknight evening listlessness is
> a part of everything, which is the right place for everyone to be in
> order to get hit with a surprise that changes everything. CWDP is
> indeed a mood-piece, one that's much more cohesive than you'd expect
> from the orgy-child of a comedy act, a ghost story, a manifesto of
> evil, and a graveside chat.
> Rating: Good
A lot of people love this episode. I think it's pretty good - enough for
a
Good rating, albeit not a terribly high Good. It does work as a mood
piece
and is mostly constructed well - especially for its opening and closing.
But its weaknesses - which you lay out pretty well above - impinge on its
greatness seriously. It's far from the masterpiece its presentation
suggests it ought to be.
Except for the Trio's scenes, which I think are uniformly Excellent.
> Season Seven, Episode 8: "Sleeper"
> Is this the episode that goes to a commercial break on the thrilling
> act-break note of people talking? That apparently amused some
> people. Anyway, "Sleeper" sounds on paper like it should be an
> im****tant hour - mystery, pathos, revelations, etcetera. I like the
> way the characters really try to think things through rationally, I
> don't like the endless establi****ng shots of people walking or Anya's
> scenes, blah blah blah. I could keep listing ****, but the point is
> that breaking it down into ingredients emphasizes how much I watch the
> episode as a collection of items ("okay, this is kinda cool, this
> happens, this joke is just silly, this ties into the story arc...") and
> not as a unified piece of entertainment. OBS, who likes "Sleeper"
> better than I do, accurately contrasted it with CWDP in that regard.
> As much analysis as I throw at it, it mostly just comes down to Mrs.
> Quality's summary on re-watching: "this is kind of a boring episode,
> isn't it?" It kinda is. Also, we run into a bit of a trap that comes
> with throwing out shock endings like Spike snacking at the end of
> "Conversations." When you (as a writer/plot-designer, I mean) do
> something that extreme and don't actually "mean" it, the explanation
> will always be something of a let-down. I know of no way to avoid
> that.
> Rating: Decent
I still do like the episode better than you. Indeed, a big part of me
wants
to rate it as Good for the way it gets my mind and heart racing -
especially
the culmination of Buffy choosing to help Spike. But I can't ignore how
clumsily it often is made and how labored much of the dialogue is. It
feels
like an episode shot from a rough draft without refinement. And
considering
how much im****tant concepts are only going to get repeated in subsequent
episodes, it doesn't earn more than a Decent rating.
Having said that, I'd still like to praise some of the elements that
really
strike home for me. I love the scene of Buffy trying to follow Spike
through the crowd. The mysterious way Spike seems to change as the odd
tune
gets into his head. How you sense Buffy's growing disquiet as she watches
Spike on the prowl. The fleeting glimpses of what may or may not be Spike
as she loses him in the crowd. And the awful moment when she seems to
catch
him red handed, only to goad him into fini****ng the kill. (I was so
confused and horrified when I first saw that. I thought it was really
Buffy.) "There's my guy."
I love how Spike's true inner strength is revealed as he sees through what
is happening to him and immediately and fearlessly tells Buffy the truth.
I
don't know what exactly happened, but I also loved how tasting Slayer
blood
also stripped away the illusion and made Spike pull back.
I especially love the final conversation between Buffy and Spike. (I
don't
know why you consider the explanation of Spike plagued with inflicted
visions as a let-down.) I love how Spike finally comprehending that his
madness is inflicted moves from despair to hope, stops thinking that he
doesn't deserve help and starts asking for it. And I love how the
realization of what is being done to Spike further clarifies the
possibilities within Spike to Buffy, so that she acts with her heart and
says yes to Spike's pleas.
Spike: Will you... Help me. Can you help me?
Buffy: I'll help you.
At this moment that's a commitment, I believe. In that sense, as powerful
and commanding to Buffy as her commitment to Joyce to protect Dawn in S5.
For me it's one of the most powerful moments of the season - and possibly
the critical element that the Scoobies don't comprehend in their
subsequent
expressions of doubt that will divide our intrepid warriors.
> So let's talk about the First Evil (not yet identified as such) for a
> second. In my hazy recollections of Season Seven, I was sorta
> developing the notion that a commonality in the First's strategy of
> working on the heroes is that it tells people what they're afraid to
> hear, channeling the message through the listener themself or their
> loved ones. You can't make a difference. The world would be better
> with you dead. Don't trust your closest friends. And although the
> dialogue in "Sleeper" isn't as pointed as it could be, it's been
> argued that First-as-Spike and First-as-Dru (in BOTN) play on fear
> too. You're still who you were before the soul, your past has total
> power over you [that message often followed by humming], you'll never
> rise above it. The First could metaphorically serve as the undying
> capacity for evil in human beings driven by fear. Hell, even its
> hatred for the Slayer line could come from The Human Race, fearing
> what's different (and female). That'd also make me feel justified in
> my basically ignoring the First (and more generally, S7's plot) as a
> thing to hang character moments on.
>
> But Andrew throws a wrench into the idea. The First seduces him
> almost entirely with what he craves, not what he fears. First!Warren
> is gentle both pre and post Jonathan.
I'm not convinced that fear need necessarily be the driving component,
though it certainly could be a common one. Be that as it may, I think it
could be argued that Andrew fears facing his own failings, which have
built
into massive immorality. The fantasy life - the story telling - are his
means of avoidance. Warren's way is to feed that avoidance, which only
further adds to the evil ways. Makes it possible for him to act in the
worst manner, beguiled by the sense of heroic adventure that he imagines.
Buffy will eventually force him to see the truth in a scene filled with
his
fear of knowing himself. In CWDP we get an early glimpse of that, I
think,
when he lashes back at Jonathan's fond thoughts about people he knew in
high
school. I think because Andrew cannot bear to have his illusions broken.
So what he craves is just the means for running from his fears.
> Maybe villains (Caleb too) are
> fundamentally different enough that they get treated differently? Why
> the First implants a trigger in Spike and not anyone else confuses me
> too (along with why exactly it's so interested in him to begin with -
> does it see his potential to become a detergent?), since it suggests
> more (semi)coherent planning than the rest of S7 displays.
I don't think the "trigger" is just some mechanical thing The First can
implant in anybody. (Though the seeming mechanical aspect of it probably
does matter, at least in a character sense. The First's means of attack
on
Spike parallels the effect of the chip - in reverse - something unique and
peculiar to Spike.) I think it's more a found op****tunity within Spike
that's capable of overriding the effects of the chip (for reasons not
really
explained) and, more im****tantly, of the soul. It's not even really
implanted. Just discovered. We're eventually shown that it is
associative
memory that psychologically returns him to the time he truly turned evil.
(Theoretically, one might imagine that something similar might have been
prompted by the tune even without The First's presence. Of course The
First
manipulates the effect through the use of visions.)
Once Spike learns what's happening, it ceases to have any power over him.
Again suggesting that it's not something implanted from outside, but
rather
something natural to himself. That actually makes Spike one of the better
examples of how The First is really the evil within oneself.
OBS
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