The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy. – Helen Hayes
Previously, on Fear, Itself: the gang has been invited to a haunted house party at Alpha Delt, but a hinky icon painted on the floor infuses the building with serious mojo. Decorations animate and mortal fears manifest. Trapped inside, our crew discovers frat brother Chaz cowering in a closet.
Chaz babbles to himself, rocking frantically. Buffy demands to know what is going on. Chaz flicks a glance at Buffy then screams. The homicidal skeleton looms behind Buffy, stabbing her in the shoulder. She wheels and kicks it in the face. When it lands, it’s a simple dime store skeleton again. Buffy decides she will go upstairs while they find a way out. Willow is astonished: You’re telling us to run away and leave you behind? Buffy yanks a small crossbow from her basket. We need help. We need the only person who can make sense of what’s happening. Giles.
The man of the hour sits alone, deflated by his lack of trick-or-treaters - a ringing metaphor for his diminished role in life. Someone finally knocks on his door. He springs up, poised to launch into a Happy Halloween chorus when Anya bursts in. Xander’s trapped. Giles frowns. Buffy and the others? Oh, they’re trapped too. But we’ve got to save Xander. Giles implores Anya to slow down. She gives him the lowdown on the missing door and disappearing window, leading Giles to hypothesize about matter distortion and summoning spells. Re-energized, he gathers supplies, grateful for a purpose. I shouldn’t worry too much about Xander. At least he’s among friends.
Not for long. Buffy and Willow dispute strategy. Buffy can’t do her job if she has to worry about them. Well, she’s not the only able-bodied person here, is she? Willow can cast a guiding spell to light the way. Let’s be honest, Will. Your basic spells are usually about fifty-fifty. Oops. These high school buddies are experiencing college level friction. Willow huffs off. I’m not your sidekick, she snaps. Buffy stops short while Oz pursues Willow.
Buffy is peeved but also a little dejected. Willow is more independent and self-assured than ever. She loves school, has a steady boyfriend, and a cool developing ability that doesn’t repel men. Slayer strength isn’t exactly an aphrodisiac. Academics – not exactly Buffy’s strength. Her father deserted her, Angel dumped her, and Parker disposed of her. Life was a lot easier in high school. If you ignore the vampires and demons and Hellmouth part. And the fact Angel transformed into a murderous psychopath during junior year. Other than that, life was a cake walk. You bet.
Xander tries to smooth things over – we’re all a little spooked. Willow’s upset. And Buffy has been pushing them away recently. Now’s not the time to fight. I’m still with you. Right by your side. Buffy looks straight at him then spins in alarm. Xander? Xander, where are you? Now Xander’s alarmed. What is she talking about? He’s right here. He yells her name. Nothing. She doesn’t see him. This is so typical of him, Buffy grouses. Typical? Xander is wounded. What does that mean? And why is he suddenly invisible? He pats himself down, looks up, and Buffy is gone. He’s alone. Abandoned.
Willow sheds pieces of her costume as she marches down the hallway. She thinks I’m not ready to be a full blown witch - a rye observation given Willow started the episode with this very worry. I can control dark forces just as good as anyone. Oz suspects they’re not thinking clearly, rubbing his hand in a distracted way. Suddenly it’s matted with fur. His fingernails are yellow and claw-like. He’s changing. B-but, you can’t be. There’s no moon tonight, Willow exclaims. He has to get away. He can’t wait for Giles. He has to leave NOW. He pushes her away, accidentally slashing her. She sees the feral light in his eyes, the dread. He bolts. Oz, she cries. Don’t leave me!
Xander wanders until he finds a mirror. His reflection is there. So why can’t his friends see him? He’s fading away, just as he’s feared. College has opened new avenues closed to him. The odd man out.
Willow chants to the goddess of the lost and conjures light, a dancing firefly dot that hovers awaiting instruction. Tickled pink, Willow asks it to lead her to Oz. The firefly darts to the door, then Willow wavers. Reconsiders. No, they should try to find people trapped upstairs. Objective muddled, the unstable firefly divides in two, then four, then eight, replicating at an alarming rate. Suddenly it’s an aggressive swarm buzzing Willow’s head. She swats at it, calling for help. Some zip into her mouth. She coughs and gags, terrified, and charges off.
On the other side of a wall, Buffy hears Willow’s shouts. Frantic, Buffy surveys a door on the opposite wall. She grips the doorknob. Locked. She charges and crashes through, only to fall two stories to the basement floor. She’s knocked out briefly, but comes to and hears a voice: All alone. Josh shuffles into view, his head cocked at a sickening angle. They all ran away from you. They always will. Josh affirms Buffy’s greatest fear. Open your heart to someone and… His smile is maniacal. Hands burst through the ground and lash at Buffy. Several zombies crawl through to ambush her.
Outside, Giles reads from a text and feels the wall where the front door used to be. They must create a new opening. Unexpectedly, he drops the book and hoists a chain saw, carving a hole into the side of the house. Meanwhile, Buffy fights off zombies and escapes through a small door into the party room. Terrified students in costume quiver at her feet. She finds Oz, who looks normal again. Willow races into the room, slapping at fireflies no longer orbiting. Oz calms her. We need to get out of here, Buffy declares. Sitting to the side, Xander offers his opinion, but you jerks aren’t going to hear it anyway. Not that “didn’t go to college boy” is worth listening to. Buffy walks over and asks, What is wrong with you? She can hear him! He’s not invisible anymore.
The house separated us, Oz deduces. It wanted to scare us. Buffy agrees. They were drawn to this room. Why? They glance down, see the symbol painted on the ground. Xander spies the book from which Chaz took the symbol. Willow translates. It’s the Mark of Gachnar. Somehow the summoning spell was triggered. Gachnar is trying to manifest. The demon feeds on fear - they must stop nourishing it. Giles suddenly kicks in the door. The contrast of Giles brandishing a chain saw while Anya bounces harmlessly through the door to hug Xander is priceless.
Giles informs them the hallways have closed behind them. He takes command of the spell book and explains Gachnar’s presence infects the reality of the house. They can’t let it achieve full manifestation. Can’t Buffy fight it? Buffy, this is Gachnar - Giles shows her its picture. A huge, horrid-looking creature stares back. Buffy shudders. Let’s shut it down. Giles recites: The summoning spell for Gachnar can be shut down in one of two ways. Destroying the Mark of Gachnar –
Buffy drops to her knees and punches through the floorboards, mangling the icon.
-- is not one of them and will, in fact, immediately bring forth the Fear Demon. Whoops. Giles glares at Buffy. A terrible roar shakes the room. Gachnar, in all his hideous glory, rises from below. Dead silence ensues as everyone realizes Gachnar is barely six inches tall. His cartoon helium voice threatens: I am the Dark Lord of nightmares, the bringer of terror. Tremble before me! No one is trembling now, except with laughter. Giles reminds Buffy that size doesn’t matter in slaying. She approaches Gachnar, who tries to redirect her: They’re all going to abandon you, you know. Buffy isn’t buying that. Not today. She stomps him like a grape.
The Scooby gang tackles the speed bumps of college just as they did those of high school: at full speed and head-on. Responsibilities double, friends drift, paths diverge. Though college agrees with Willow, she still suffers bouts of her old self-doubts. Xander’s abandonment issues continue to fester like a wound in need of constant dressing. Buffy sprints towards adulthood, but the inevitability of her vocation weighs more heavily, slowly crushing her secret longing to be normal.
Despite the stability friends and family bring her, Buffy resists. Fate challenges her desire for emotional attachments. She’s an anomaly. Slayers are supposed to be lone creatures, hunters who protect and serve in isolation. None fashion everlasting relationships outside of their watcher. Even there, slayers rarely form the paternal bond Buffy enjoys with Giles. She’s bucked the system since day one. She’s only too aware how precarious her position is.
Buffy’s on borrowed time. Cursed with a job she doesn’t want, blessed with friends she shouldn’t have. She’s condemned to this life. They aren’t. It’s only a matter of time before they realize it and jump ship.
But friendship’s a funny thing. Sometimes it withers and dies. Sometimes it sticks like gum to the undercarriage of life - forever. Noble intentions may drive Buffy to push Willow and Xander overboard, but love and affection anchor them to her. Fear is no match for faith and fealty. The Scoobies are determined to stay together. Through dissension, defection, disaster, and desertion. No matter the odds.
Showing posts with label Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Friday, October 31, 2008
Fear, Itself: Part One
Everything I’ve ever done was out of fear of being mediocre – Chet Atkins
Happy Halloween! Fear, Itself was the second Halloween-themed episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, advertising each character’s worst nightmare like a Walmart circular. An entire show devoted to black moments. For writers, it doesn’t get any better than this.
Situated in season four, the Scooby gang has graduated from high school and moved on. The newly single slayer and blossoming witch Willow now attend Sunnydale U. Endearingly insecure Xander is living in his parents’ basement, working odd jobs and trying to shed the self-adhered label of loser. Angel, Buffy’s vampire love interest, has moved to LA to start his own show. Business. I mean business. The hilariously vain Cordelia has followed in his footsteps.
Giles, Buffy’s watcher and former school librarian, wrestles with unemployment now that Sunnydale High is history. In a tradition all students should experience, the last graduating class attacked their keynote speaker who schemed to use graduation as a launching pad for demon ascension. Thus transformed, he planned to eat the entire senior class. But these forewarned, future captains of industry thwarted his plans. They cornered him/it in the school, blew the place to smithereens, and saved the world.
New cast members Anya and Oz fill in the gaps. Oz is a newly minted werewolf and Willow’s love puppy. Anya is a former vengeance demon reacquainting herself with mortal life. She’s been a demon for centuries thus oblivious to the finer points of congeniality. To call her socially inept would be talking it up.
The night before Halloween, Buffy, Willow and Oz lounge at Xander’s, but the reliably perky Buffy is decidedly perkless. Fresh from her breakup with Angel, she took a gamble with Parker Abrams, an unscrupulous womanizer who discarded Buffy with nary a Dear Jane warning. Buffy is drowning in rejection. To cheer her up, Xander holds up the scary movie he has planned for tomorrow night - Fantasia. Head slap. It was supposed to be Phantasm. Willow reminds them they’ve been asked to the Alpha Delt Halloween bash.
This is news to Xander. Already sensitive about his non-matriculating status, he feigns indifference. Willow issues a belated invite and he lunges for it like a dingy in a sea of sharks. Buffy exits early to the dismay of her friends who conclude she’s still suffering post-Parker depression. Buffy slogs home, droopy and despondent. She reacts on instinct when a demon approaches, slapping him to the ground. He cries in pain and rips off his mask, revealing an aggrieved human teenager. What the hell is wrong with you? Buffy wonders the same thing.
The next afternoon at the college cafe, Willow chats with Buffy about her budding witchcraft skills. She’s got the basics down, but moving into the next level intimidates her. She should be ready. She wants to be ready. But she’s kind of . . . not. Oz joins them, hoping Buffy isn’t encouraging Willow. He lays out his concerns. As a werewolf, he knows what it’s like to get in touch with dark forces. He can’t control the furry side once it emerges. It’s worrisome. He’s concerned for her, but he’ll back whatever decision she makes regarding her steps toward magical mastery.
A burst of laughter draws Buffy’s attention to a table where Parker is enjoying a conscience-free lunch with a pretty co-ed. Buffy abandons her food and rushes off. Willow catches her in the hall. Don’t let jerky Parker chase you away. He’s not. Buffy just doesn’t want to deal right now. Nor does she want to meet anyone at the party. She’ll probably patrol tonight instead. But it’s Halloween, Willow reminds her. The one evening vampires and their ilk go on holiday. Buffy will touch base with Giles, but she’s pretty sure he doesn’t hold with the whole Halloween thing.
On the contrary. Candy bowl in hand, Giles enthusiastically greets Buffy dressed in a festive sombrero and matching poncho. She apprises him of her plans. She doesn’t want to be caught off guard - like one Halloween, when Ethan Rayne turned everyone into their costumes (see the GMC&D of Trick or Treat). Giles reassures her. That was a rare exception. I promise you, there’s little chance of any supernatural activity tonight.
Giles, Giles, Giles. Such guarantees should never be voiced aloud in Sunnydale. To prove it, the Alpha Delts are feverishly decorating their hallways. One brother has found a fearsome image to paint on the floor. He holds a book open to a page with a satanic symbol. Great! The portents just keep on a’coming.
Xander is on his way out when Anya appears. You haven’t called, she complains. Xander’s eyes widen. You said you were over me. She only said that because she thought it’s what he wanted to hear. It’s been one week since they copulated and she hoped they could celebrate that anniversary. Xander already has plans. Anya doesn’t understand why he persists on associating with them. They go to college, you don’t. They no longer live at home, you do…. Xander’s mediocrity meter shoots into the red and he switches subjects by inviting her along. Like a date? He admits there are date-like qualities to his request. This pleases her until he tells her to wear a costume. What kind of costume? She’s an ex-demon who terrorized men for millennia. He’s sure she’ll come up with something.
On the top floor where creeped out corridors lead to the party room, the two frat brothers, Chaz and Josh, put the finishing touches on the supernatural symbol. Xander and Oz haul in sound equipment. After helping Oz set it in place, Xander wanders over and admires their diabolical design. What’s it mean? No idea, Chaz replies. Just copped it from some old tome. Josh tells Xander to consider pledging to the house. Oz informs them Xander isn’t a student. Oh. A townie. He looks so normal.
Xander takes that jab with a brittle laugh while Oz tests the speakers. His super wolf senses detect a sputter in one of the speakers. With a pocket knife, he trims a wire but nicks his finger in the process. It’s nothing, he says, and walks toward the circle, shaking it off. Flecks of his blood dapple the demon symbol. And doesn’t it just figure, the symbol on the floor starts to waver and glow? And a plastic tarantula lying within the perimeter suddenly quivers to life and scurries off? And doesn’t it escape the notice of every male in the room? Typical.
Back home, Buffy’s mom, Joyce, alters a red cape from a childhood costume to fit the grown-up Buffy. They reminisce about Halloweens past when Buffy’s dad insisted on escorting her, even when she was twelve. Your father loved spending time with you. The cheery mood evaporates when Buffy ponders this. Not enough, I guess. Buffy’s absentee dad has been a constant source of conflict, especially since his disappearing act coincided with her new occupation as vampire slayer. She harbors considerable guilt about the breakup of her parents’ marriage, even though her mother insists the divorce had nothing to do with her. I don’t know…there’s a pattern here. Open your heart to someone and he...he bails on you. Maybe it’s easier to not let anyone in anymore.
Joyce admits she felt that way too, but she has a nice circle of friends now. She squeezes Buffy’s hand. I’ll always be here for you. And you’ve got Mr. Giles. And your friends. Believe me, there’s nothing to be afraid of. She didn’t just say that, did she? Does no one in this town have a memory? As they speak, Josh leads his blindfolded girlfriend into the frat party room. He tells her to stick her hand in a bowl of eyeballs, which are actually peeled grapes. The joke’s on him. When she lifts the blindfold and peeks down, what she’s holding is genuine eyeballs. Bwaaa-ha-ha-ha-haaa!
Currently unaware, the gang assembles in front of the frat house. Buffy is Little Red Riding Hood with a twist – she has weapons in her basket, just in case. Xander is suited and suave secret agent man – insurance, in case he gets turned into his costume again. Willow is medievally garbed Joan of Arc – on account of her being almost burned at the stake (for being a witch, in the previous season’s Gingerbread episode) and because of her close personal relationship with God. Oz is dressed like everyday Oz, until he lifts his outer shirt to reveal a name tag that announces: Hi. My name is God.
Xander explains Anya is having trouble deciding on a costume so she’s going to meet them here later. Buffy grimaces. Everyone has a date but her. Third-wheel Buffy. Willow denies that and takes Buffy’s arm. We’re gonna have the best time.
Inside the house, panic reigns. Strobe lights flash. Students scream. Doors slam and lock inexplicably. Josh races toward the steps then plummets down, breaking his neck. A malevolent voice demands to be free. However, when the gang enters the front door, silence is their host. The utter lack of noise and people is unsettling. They follow signs, passing spider webs and various standard spooky props. A skeleton shoots out of a closet, wielding a toy knife. But a live spider drops onto Willow’s shoulder and rattles everyone.
Oz frowns at a wall where a corridor used to be. Buffy kneels down to touch something on the carpet. Blood. She sniffs. Real blood. Then they’re swarmed by bats. Real bats. One snags in Buffy’s hair. She yanks it free and tosses it while the rest fly off. When Oz picks it up, it’s just a rubber toy. What is going on? The malevolent voice demands to be released again. They’ve been around the block before. This is not some simple frat house prank. It’s the real deal.
Outside, Anya clops up the front walk dressed as a giant bunny. Terrifying. She halts on the porch and realizes there’s no door. Just a wall and a “hellcome” mat. Strange. She backtracks and peers up at the second story. A shrieking girl stands in a window, pounding on glass smeared with blood. The window is suddenly swallowed by the cement edifice. Anya’s only thought is Xander and she hurries off.
The gang retraces their steps to the front door but it’s vanished. They hear someone whimpering and find Chaz huddled in the closet, mumbling to himself: I’m sorry, I didn’t know…I didn’t know… Didn’t know what? It’s alive. We pan to a nearby hallway where the skeleton dangles, knife in hand. But it’s no longer a harmless collection of plastic. It’s sinewy and sinister and armed with a homicidal agenda. And a butcher blade.
Who will be its first target? Find out in the conclusion of Fear, Itself.
Happy Halloween! Fear, Itself was the second Halloween-themed episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, advertising each character’s worst nightmare like a Walmart circular. An entire show devoted to black moments. For writers, it doesn’t get any better than this.
Situated in season four, the Scooby gang has graduated from high school and moved on. The newly single slayer and blossoming witch Willow now attend Sunnydale U. Endearingly insecure Xander is living in his parents’ basement, working odd jobs and trying to shed the self-adhered label of loser. Angel, Buffy’s vampire love interest, has moved to LA to start his own show. Business. I mean business. The hilariously vain Cordelia has followed in his footsteps.
Giles, Buffy’s watcher and former school librarian, wrestles with unemployment now that Sunnydale High is history. In a tradition all students should experience, the last graduating class attacked their keynote speaker who schemed to use graduation as a launching pad for demon ascension. Thus transformed, he planned to eat the entire senior class. But these forewarned, future captains of industry thwarted his plans. They cornered him/it in the school, blew the place to smithereens, and saved the world.
New cast members Anya and Oz fill in the gaps. Oz is a newly minted werewolf and Willow’s love puppy. Anya is a former vengeance demon reacquainting herself with mortal life. She’s been a demon for centuries thus oblivious to the finer points of congeniality. To call her socially inept would be talking it up.
The night before Halloween, Buffy, Willow and Oz lounge at Xander’s, but the reliably perky Buffy is decidedly perkless. Fresh from her breakup with Angel, she took a gamble with Parker Abrams, an unscrupulous womanizer who discarded Buffy with nary a Dear Jane warning. Buffy is drowning in rejection. To cheer her up, Xander holds up the scary movie he has planned for tomorrow night - Fantasia. Head slap. It was supposed to be Phantasm. Willow reminds them they’ve been asked to the Alpha Delt Halloween bash.
This is news to Xander. Already sensitive about his non-matriculating status, he feigns indifference. Willow issues a belated invite and he lunges for it like a dingy in a sea of sharks. Buffy exits early to the dismay of her friends who conclude she’s still suffering post-Parker depression. Buffy slogs home, droopy and despondent. She reacts on instinct when a demon approaches, slapping him to the ground. He cries in pain and rips off his mask, revealing an aggrieved human teenager. What the hell is wrong with you? Buffy wonders the same thing.
The next afternoon at the college cafe, Willow chats with Buffy about her budding witchcraft skills. She’s got the basics down, but moving into the next level intimidates her. She should be ready. She wants to be ready. But she’s kind of . . . not. Oz joins them, hoping Buffy isn’t encouraging Willow. He lays out his concerns. As a werewolf, he knows what it’s like to get in touch with dark forces. He can’t control the furry side once it emerges. It’s worrisome. He’s concerned for her, but he’ll back whatever decision she makes regarding her steps toward magical mastery.
A burst of laughter draws Buffy’s attention to a table where Parker is enjoying a conscience-free lunch with a pretty co-ed. Buffy abandons her food and rushes off. Willow catches her in the hall. Don’t let jerky Parker chase you away. He’s not. Buffy just doesn’t want to deal right now. Nor does she want to meet anyone at the party. She’ll probably patrol tonight instead. But it’s Halloween, Willow reminds her. The one evening vampires and their ilk go on holiday. Buffy will touch base with Giles, but she’s pretty sure he doesn’t hold with the whole Halloween thing.
On the contrary. Candy bowl in hand, Giles enthusiastically greets Buffy dressed in a festive sombrero and matching poncho. She apprises him of her plans. She doesn’t want to be caught off guard - like one Halloween, when Ethan Rayne turned everyone into their costumes (see the GMC&D of Trick or Treat). Giles reassures her. That was a rare exception. I promise you, there’s little chance of any supernatural activity tonight.
Giles, Giles, Giles. Such guarantees should never be voiced aloud in Sunnydale. To prove it, the Alpha Delts are feverishly decorating their hallways. One brother has found a fearsome image to paint on the floor. He holds a book open to a page with a satanic symbol. Great! The portents just keep on a’coming.
Xander is on his way out when Anya appears. You haven’t called, she complains. Xander’s eyes widen. You said you were over me. She only said that because she thought it’s what he wanted to hear. It’s been one week since they copulated and she hoped they could celebrate that anniversary. Xander already has plans. Anya doesn’t understand why he persists on associating with them. They go to college, you don’t. They no longer live at home, you do…. Xander’s mediocrity meter shoots into the red and he switches subjects by inviting her along. Like a date? He admits there are date-like qualities to his request. This pleases her until he tells her to wear a costume. What kind of costume? She’s an ex-demon who terrorized men for millennia. He’s sure she’ll come up with something.
On the top floor where creeped out corridors lead to the party room, the two frat brothers, Chaz and Josh, put the finishing touches on the supernatural symbol. Xander and Oz haul in sound equipment. After helping Oz set it in place, Xander wanders over and admires their diabolical design. What’s it mean? No idea, Chaz replies. Just copped it from some old tome. Josh tells Xander to consider pledging to the house. Oz informs them Xander isn’t a student. Oh. A townie. He looks so normal.
Xander takes that jab with a brittle laugh while Oz tests the speakers. His super wolf senses detect a sputter in one of the speakers. With a pocket knife, he trims a wire but nicks his finger in the process. It’s nothing, he says, and walks toward the circle, shaking it off. Flecks of his blood dapple the demon symbol. And doesn’t it just figure, the symbol on the floor starts to waver and glow? And a plastic tarantula lying within the perimeter suddenly quivers to life and scurries off? And doesn’t it escape the notice of every male in the room? Typical.
Back home, Buffy’s mom, Joyce, alters a red cape from a childhood costume to fit the grown-up Buffy. They reminisce about Halloweens past when Buffy’s dad insisted on escorting her, even when she was twelve. Your father loved spending time with you. The cheery mood evaporates when Buffy ponders this. Not enough, I guess. Buffy’s absentee dad has been a constant source of conflict, especially since his disappearing act coincided with her new occupation as vampire slayer. She harbors considerable guilt about the breakup of her parents’ marriage, even though her mother insists the divorce had nothing to do with her. I don’t know…there’s a pattern here. Open your heart to someone and he...he bails on you. Maybe it’s easier to not let anyone in anymore.
Joyce admits she felt that way too, but she has a nice circle of friends now. She squeezes Buffy’s hand. I’ll always be here for you. And you’ve got Mr. Giles. And your friends. Believe me, there’s nothing to be afraid of. She didn’t just say that, did she? Does no one in this town have a memory? As they speak, Josh leads his blindfolded girlfriend into the frat party room. He tells her to stick her hand in a bowl of eyeballs, which are actually peeled grapes. The joke’s on him. When she lifts the blindfold and peeks down, what she’s holding is genuine eyeballs. Bwaaa-ha-ha-ha-haaa!
Currently unaware, the gang assembles in front of the frat house. Buffy is Little Red Riding Hood with a twist – she has weapons in her basket, just in case. Xander is suited and suave secret agent man – insurance, in case he gets turned into his costume again. Willow is medievally garbed Joan of Arc – on account of her being almost burned at the stake (for being a witch, in the previous season’s Gingerbread episode) and because of her close personal relationship with God. Oz is dressed like everyday Oz, until he lifts his outer shirt to reveal a name tag that announces: Hi. My name is God.
Xander explains Anya is having trouble deciding on a costume so she’s going to meet them here later. Buffy grimaces. Everyone has a date but her. Third-wheel Buffy. Willow denies that and takes Buffy’s arm. We’re gonna have the best time.
Inside the house, panic reigns. Strobe lights flash. Students scream. Doors slam and lock inexplicably. Josh races toward the steps then plummets down, breaking his neck. A malevolent voice demands to be free. However, when the gang enters the front door, silence is their host. The utter lack of noise and people is unsettling. They follow signs, passing spider webs and various standard spooky props. A skeleton shoots out of a closet, wielding a toy knife. But a live spider drops onto Willow’s shoulder and rattles everyone.
Oz frowns at a wall where a corridor used to be. Buffy kneels down to touch something on the carpet. Blood. She sniffs. Real blood. Then they’re swarmed by bats. Real bats. One snags in Buffy’s hair. She yanks it free and tosses it while the rest fly off. When Oz picks it up, it’s just a rubber toy. What is going on? The malevolent voice demands to be released again. They’ve been around the block before. This is not some simple frat house prank. It’s the real deal.
Outside, Anya clops up the front walk dressed as a giant bunny. Terrifying. She halts on the porch and realizes there’s no door. Just a wall and a “hellcome” mat. Strange. She backtracks and peers up at the second story. A shrieking girl stands in a window, pounding on glass smeared with blood. The window is suddenly swallowed by the cement edifice. Anya’s only thought is Xander and she hurries off.
The gang retraces their steps to the front door but it’s vanished. They hear someone whimpering and find Chaz huddled in the closet, mumbling to himself: I’m sorry, I didn’t know…I didn’t know… Didn’t know what? It’s alive. We pan to a nearby hallway where the skeleton dangles, knife in hand. But it’s no longer a harmless collection of plastic. It’s sinewy and sinister and armed with a homicidal agenda. And a butcher blade.
Who will be its first target? Find out in the conclusion of Fear, Itself.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Lie to Me - Part 4
The truth is rarely pure and never simple – Oscar Wilde
Previously on Lie To Me, Buffy follows Ford to the club. Ford is using her as bait to bring vampires down upon them so they can be turned. Diego locks them in with no way out. They are sitting ducks for the mob about to descend.
Chantarelle and Diego don’t understand why Buffy is so worked up. They will ascend to a new level of awareness as vampires. This is a beautiful day! Can’t you see? They have no clue what’s in store. Buffy begs Ford to let them go. He may have options, but his friends will not pass go, will not collect life everlasting. Besides, becoming a vampire is not what it’s cracked up to be. A demon sets up shop in your old house. It walks and talks and remembers your life but it's not you.
His friends don’t deserve to die. Maybe not. But Ford is dying. He has a cluster of brain tumors so excruciating he vomits from the pain. In six months his mind will be liquefied. He won’t die that way. Buffy sympathizes, but mass murder is not allowed on her watch. He has a choice, a crappy one, but a choice. His friends don’t. They’re fiend fodder. Ford almost capitulates then whacks Buffy over the head with a crowbar. Sunset is upon them.
Spike and his crew burst in. Spike falls upon Chantarelle while his men spread out and feed. Buffy wrenches the crowbar from Ford’s grip and slams him into a pillar, knocking him unconscious. Drusilla floats in behind the rest of the merry band and observes the party from the balcony. Armed with her new knowledge, Buffy leaps up next to Dru. She points a stake at Dru’s heart and shouts at Spike.
Stricken, Spike releases Chantarelle and orders his men to fall back. Buffy demands they let everyone go or Dru fits in an ashtray. Oh, the poetry. All the believers race out the door unchallenged. With Dru as her shield, Buffy edges over until she’s near enough to thrust Dru at Spike, dart through the opening, and slam it shut behind her. Spike glares at the door. Where’s the doorknob?
Outside, Angel, Xander and Willow arrive to tend the wounded. Buffy explains the situation and recommends they wait till later to come back. Come back for what? She looks at the closed door. The body. Inside Ford wakes to find Spike and company locked in. No Buffy. No one to feed on. Except him. Ford insists he lived up to his end of the bargain. Where’s his reward?
Much later, at Ford’s gravesite, Buffy doesn’t know what to say, what to think. So much simpler if she could hate Ford. But he was just a kid afraid to die. The truth is a painful reminder how fragile the line between good and evil can be. At her side, Giles agrees. Buffy fears the more she knows, the more confused she is. How do you know who to love, who to hate…who to trust? It’s called growing up, Giles tell her.
Does it get easier? Ford - now a vampire - erupts from the ground at their feet. Buffy stakes him without so much as a glance. You mean life? Giles asks. What would she have him say? Buffy thinks a moment. Lie to me. As they stroll away, Giles weaves a fairytale where good guys are always good, bad guys are always bad, and no one ever dies. Buffy hesitates. With affection, she mutters, Liar.
Let’s take a look at Ford’s GMCD. His goal: become a vampire (external) and escape the tenuous nature of life (internal). Why? He’s dying from a debilitating disease (external) and he’s terrified to die that way (internal). What’s standing in his way? Buffy. Not just the slayer (external) but an old friend whom he remembers with fondness (internal). How does it end? Disastrously. Buffy always gets her man (external), but she can’t hate him - which would have made Ford’s betrayal easier on both of them (internal).
Two prominent writing elements - theme and foreshadowing – headline a simple premise: a childhood pal re-emerges and gives Buffy the chance to experience friendship unfettered by her superhero status.
The thematic question – Is honesty the best policy? - reverberates through every major character. First, Buffy catches Angel in a lie. Her conjecture he’s seeing Drusilla is refuted, but the truth proves worse: Dru is a vampire of his own making. A gently bred girl he menaced and dehumanized before siring. How do you love a man who’s done such a depraved thing? The reality of Angel’s past begins to seep into their present, suggesting a less than propitious future.
Next, Ford hides his knowledge of her identity. Not a lie precisely. But it demonstrates Ford’s ability to keep things close to the vest when it suits him. And it suits him just fine, thanks. He’s not there to sing “Auld Lang Syne.” He’s chasing a top spot on Buffy’s to-be-killed list. She comes to grips with it because she must, but a straightforward task becomes far harder when he admits the truth - he’s dying in the worst way possible and will do anything to escape the agony. Even become an unrepentant monster.
Finally, Buffy contends with her friends’ subversion. Up until now, Willow and Xander have been an unshakable foundation of faith and fealty. Suddenly they join forces with Angel and snoop on Ford. Does it matter that their intentions are good? It doesn’t diminish the disloyalty she feels. Can she trust them as she once did? Is it wise to trust anyone that much?
Foreshadowing comes in two flavors: episode level and the season long variety. Drusilla implies Angel knows her from the start. This leads to the backstory disclosure that Angel sired Drusilla. When Ford meets Buffy at The Bronze, he jokes, I know all your darkest secrets. He’s already aware Buffy’s the slayer. In the same scene, Angel admits to Buffy there’s a lot you don’t know about me. This observation pulls double-duty. It hints at his bond to Dru and presages how much more we’ve yet to learn, especially one crucial aspect of the curse which reinstated his soul. The whole story arc will turn on this revelation – far too late to avoid disaster.
Several season long denouements are portended in the opening conversation alone. Angel’s warning: If you don’t leave…it’ll go badly. For all of us. Dru’s prediction about Buffy: Poor thing. She has no idea what’s in store. Her promise that this is just the beginning. All hint at future plot developments. Once the tide changes, things go south for any warrior that picks up a stake in the name of justice. Eventually it’s also bad for the villains as Buffy finds a way to extinguish the fuse whizzing towards human annihilation. But the solution proves lethal to someone Buffy loves and her series-long goal of being a normal girl is dealt a devastating blow.
The pressures of adulthood begin an inexorable push into Buffy’s teenaged existence. People aren’t good or bad. They’re a confusing mishmash of both. Ford converts to the dark side b/c of an inescapable death sentence. Steady Willow and steadfast Xander commit a friendship faux pas under the heading of good intentions. Spike - a creature with zero scruples - sacrifices an easy meal and a chance at the slayer to save fickle, fey Drusilla. And Buffy’s spotless champion, Angel, exposes some glaring blemishes on his white charger resume.
What’s her lesson? Take your pick. Friends are imperfect. Villains have layers. Heroes hide their fatal flaws. Weakness burrows beneath the surface of decency, integrity within the most decadent heart. Life isn’t black and white anymore. It’s grayer and grayer. Buffy’s first step into this shadowy realm - in the words of Drusilla - is just the beginning.
Dialogue in italics from “Lie to Me” by Joss Whedon
Previously on Lie To Me, Buffy follows Ford to the club. Ford is using her as bait to bring vampires down upon them so they can be turned. Diego locks them in with no way out. They are sitting ducks for the mob about to descend.
Chantarelle and Diego don’t understand why Buffy is so worked up. They will ascend to a new level of awareness as vampires. This is a beautiful day! Can’t you see? They have no clue what’s in store. Buffy begs Ford to let them go. He may have options, but his friends will not pass go, will not collect life everlasting. Besides, becoming a vampire is not what it’s cracked up to be. A demon sets up shop in your old house. It walks and talks and remembers your life but it's not you.
His friends don’t deserve to die. Maybe not. But Ford is dying. He has a cluster of brain tumors so excruciating he vomits from the pain. In six months his mind will be liquefied. He won’t die that way. Buffy sympathizes, but mass murder is not allowed on her watch. He has a choice, a crappy one, but a choice. His friends don’t. They’re fiend fodder. Ford almost capitulates then whacks Buffy over the head with a crowbar. Sunset is upon them.
Spike and his crew burst in. Spike falls upon Chantarelle while his men spread out and feed. Buffy wrenches the crowbar from Ford’s grip and slams him into a pillar, knocking him unconscious. Drusilla floats in behind the rest of the merry band and observes the party from the balcony. Armed with her new knowledge, Buffy leaps up next to Dru. She points a stake at Dru’s heart and shouts at Spike.
Stricken, Spike releases Chantarelle and orders his men to fall back. Buffy demands they let everyone go or Dru fits in an ashtray. Oh, the poetry. All the believers race out the door unchallenged. With Dru as her shield, Buffy edges over until she’s near enough to thrust Dru at Spike, dart through the opening, and slam it shut behind her. Spike glares at the door. Where’s the doorknob?
Outside, Angel, Xander and Willow arrive to tend the wounded. Buffy explains the situation and recommends they wait till later to come back. Come back for what? She looks at the closed door. The body. Inside Ford wakes to find Spike and company locked in. No Buffy. No one to feed on. Except him. Ford insists he lived up to his end of the bargain. Where’s his reward?
Much later, at Ford’s gravesite, Buffy doesn’t know what to say, what to think. So much simpler if she could hate Ford. But he was just a kid afraid to die. The truth is a painful reminder how fragile the line between good and evil can be. At her side, Giles agrees. Buffy fears the more she knows, the more confused she is. How do you know who to love, who to hate…who to trust? It’s called growing up, Giles tell her.
Does it get easier? Ford - now a vampire - erupts from the ground at their feet. Buffy stakes him without so much as a glance. You mean life? Giles asks. What would she have him say? Buffy thinks a moment. Lie to me. As they stroll away, Giles weaves a fairytale where good guys are always good, bad guys are always bad, and no one ever dies. Buffy hesitates. With affection, she mutters, Liar.
Let’s take a look at Ford’s GMCD. His goal: become a vampire (external) and escape the tenuous nature of life (internal). Why? He’s dying from a debilitating disease (external) and he’s terrified to die that way (internal). What’s standing in his way? Buffy. Not just the slayer (external) but an old friend whom he remembers with fondness (internal). How does it end? Disastrously. Buffy always gets her man (external), but she can’t hate him - which would have made Ford’s betrayal easier on both of them (internal).
Two prominent writing elements - theme and foreshadowing – headline a simple premise: a childhood pal re-emerges and gives Buffy the chance to experience friendship unfettered by her superhero status.
The thematic question – Is honesty the best policy? - reverberates through every major character. First, Buffy catches Angel in a lie. Her conjecture he’s seeing Drusilla is refuted, but the truth proves worse: Dru is a vampire of his own making. A gently bred girl he menaced and dehumanized before siring. How do you love a man who’s done such a depraved thing? The reality of Angel’s past begins to seep into their present, suggesting a less than propitious future.
Next, Ford hides his knowledge of her identity. Not a lie precisely. But it demonstrates Ford’s ability to keep things close to the vest when it suits him. And it suits him just fine, thanks. He’s not there to sing “Auld Lang Syne.” He’s chasing a top spot on Buffy’s to-be-killed list. She comes to grips with it because she must, but a straightforward task becomes far harder when he admits the truth - he’s dying in the worst way possible and will do anything to escape the agony. Even become an unrepentant monster.
Finally, Buffy contends with her friends’ subversion. Up until now, Willow and Xander have been an unshakable foundation of faith and fealty. Suddenly they join forces with Angel and snoop on Ford. Does it matter that their intentions are good? It doesn’t diminish the disloyalty she feels. Can she trust them as she once did? Is it wise to trust anyone that much?
Foreshadowing comes in two flavors: episode level and the season long variety. Drusilla implies Angel knows her from the start. This leads to the backstory disclosure that Angel sired Drusilla. When Ford meets Buffy at The Bronze, he jokes, I know all your darkest secrets. He’s already aware Buffy’s the slayer. In the same scene, Angel admits to Buffy there’s a lot you don’t know about me. This observation pulls double-duty. It hints at his bond to Dru and presages how much more we’ve yet to learn, especially one crucial aspect of the curse which reinstated his soul. The whole story arc will turn on this revelation – far too late to avoid disaster.
Several season long denouements are portended in the opening conversation alone. Angel’s warning: If you don’t leave…it’ll go badly. For all of us. Dru’s prediction about Buffy: Poor thing. She has no idea what’s in store. Her promise that this is just the beginning. All hint at future plot developments. Once the tide changes, things go south for any warrior that picks up a stake in the name of justice. Eventually it’s also bad for the villains as Buffy finds a way to extinguish the fuse whizzing towards human annihilation. But the solution proves lethal to someone Buffy loves and her series-long goal of being a normal girl is dealt a devastating blow.
The pressures of adulthood begin an inexorable push into Buffy’s teenaged existence. People aren’t good or bad. They’re a confusing mishmash of both. Ford converts to the dark side b/c of an inescapable death sentence. Steady Willow and steadfast Xander commit a friendship faux pas under the heading of good intentions. Spike - a creature with zero scruples - sacrifices an easy meal and a chance at the slayer to save fickle, fey Drusilla. And Buffy’s spotless champion, Angel, exposes some glaring blemishes on his white charger resume.
What’s her lesson? Take your pick. Friends are imperfect. Villains have layers. Heroes hide their fatal flaws. Weakness burrows beneath the surface of decency, integrity within the most decadent heart. Life isn’t black and white anymore. It’s grayer and grayer. Buffy’s first step into this shadowy realm - in the words of Drusilla - is just the beginning.
Dialogue in italics from “Lie to Me” by Joss Whedon
Friday, May 9, 2008
Lie to Me - Part 3
Men occasionally stumble upon the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing ever happened – Sir Winston Churchill
Previously on Lie To Me, we learn both Angel and Ford are hiding things from Buffy.
Something feels off about Ford so Angel goes to see Willow. She opens the door to her bedroom balcony but he can’t come in until she invites him. It’s a vampire thing. But what is once done cannot be undone - without some serious magical mojo. The decision hardly seems momentous here, but it will exacerbate a plot crisis in an upcoming episode when Drusilla’s premonitions bear fruit. Another foreshadowing slight of hand.
Angel asks Willow to look Ford up on the internet. Is he jealous? Angel never used to be, but yeah, with Buffy, he is. Willow pokes around and discovers something weird. Ford’s school transcripts haven’t been transmitted as he claims. Willow’s mother comes to the door and prevents further surfing. Willow shoos Angel out, promising to meet the next evening. He asks her not to tell Buffy. Lie to Buffy? Willow’s not good at lying. It’s like asking a cat to care. Never happen. He advises her not to bring it up then. It’s probably nothing, anyway. Sure. You know how bad things hardly ever happen in Sunnydale.
The next day, Ford and Buffy reminisce about prom night at Hemery when Buffy was forced to burn down the gym to destroy a nest of vampires. The worst moment of her life is seen differently through Ford’s eyes. She saved a lot of people. One minute you're a kid, living in your safe kid world, and then - truth hits you in the face. Vampires. I'll never forget that night.
Knowing what we do now, it’s clear this has meaning beyond what Buffy comprehends. It’s also significant beyond what the audience understands, but we don’t realize that until the end. We know he’s a fraud - but he’s not ready to reveal himself. He wonders why everyone in school acted like the fire in the gym never happened. Buffy replies, People ignore truths they don’t like. She will soon discover how true this is.
On the way to class, they pass Willow, who is edgy, bordering on manic, afraid her covert ops will be discovered. When she races off, Ford comments she’s a nice girl. There aren't two of those in the world, Buffy assures him. Another interesting presage, as there will, indeed, be two Willows loose in a couple of future episodes. You have to see it to believe it.
That evening, Buffy and Ford take a walk around campus and come upon a pair of vampires skulking near the admin building. Ford takes out his own stake and follows the female vamp while Buffy trails the bigger male. They separate. Ford catches his vampire but promises to free her if she tells him what he wants to know. By the time Buffy dispatches her vamp and rejoins him, he maintains he’s dusted the girl vamp.
Near the club, Xander, Willow and Angel are searching for Diego. Willow tracks some of Ford’s e-mails from Diego to this address, so Angel uses Ford’s name to gain access. Once inside, they cop to the vampire theme and are approached by Chantarelle. She explains vampires are the Lonely Ones, misunderstood as monsters who just want to suffer the mantle of immortality in peace. Angel’s seen this kind of thing before, kids making up bedtime stories about friendly vampires to comfort themselves in the dark. Lying to avoid truth. A theme resounds.
After sending Ford home, Buffy beeps Giles and Miss Calendar so they can discuss the sighting of vampires on school grounds. Then she spies an old photo of a woman in one of Giles’ books. Giles explains it’s Drusilla, the on-again, off-again girlfriend of Spike. Buffy informs them Dru is in town and was last seen in the company of Angel. Suddenly, the girl vampire Ford supposedly staked lunges out of nowhere, swipes one of the texts, and bolts away. Ford didn’t dust the vamp. He lied to Buffy. What’s going on?
In a darkened warehouse, Drusilla gazes into a birdcage, crooning to a dead bird. Spike, her peroxide prince of darkness, saunters up behind her, unhappy to learn she met Angel while out questing for humans. Angel is the enemy now. Dru prattles on, cajoling the bird to sing. Spike pronounces the bird dead. She didn’t feed it and now it’s dead, just like the last one. She pulls a pout until Spike offers to get her another.
Ford emerges from the shadows of the warehouse, his face aglow with Disneyland fervor. He didn’t go home like a good soldier. In fact, he’s been a very bad boy. He hands Spike the text he had pinched from Giles. Ford knows all about Spike and wants to be a vampire like him. Yawn. Spike is unimpressed and doesn’t feature Ford living forever. When Ford promises to deliver the slayer, Spike changes his tune.
Angel seeks Buffy out at home to tell her Ford isn’t what he appears. Who is, these days? Willow ran a check on Ford. Wait – he and Willow went behind her back? And Xander knew? And no one saw fit to fill her in? Betrayal. Point blank, she hits Angel with Drusilla. He confesses he lied, but he was trying to protect her. Sometimes the truth is worse than a lie. He’s lived long enough to know.
Drusilla was one of the most unconscionable crimes Angel committed as Angelus. Dru became an obsession. She was pure and pious and he turned her into something corrupt and profane. He drove her insane - murdered her family, tortured her for days. She escaped to a convent but he made her into a vampire before she could take her vows. Dru’s earlier assertion about Angel resonates with new menace. Of course he remembers Dru’s mother. He executed her. Who could forget that?
Somber, sincere Angel sired the demented, dangerous Drusilla. Certainly not the kind of thing you want to hear about the man you love. Buffy knows the truth now. She wishes she didn’t, but she asked for it. She can’t hide from it now. Well, she could, but that’s not how Buffy operates. She has to face the fact Ford is lying, too. No friend of the slayer would apply to a secret society that reveres vampires. Disaster in duplicate. Or triplicate, if you count her friends’ we-did-it-for-your-own-good conspiracy. Buffy is smarting.
The next day, Ford flags Buffy down and asks if they can go out hunting vampires again. He’s got a surprise for her. Oh, she bets he does. They make plans to meet later. She watches him go with a heavy heart.
Ford and the True Believers congregate at the club, discussing the coming event when they will be “blessed.” Diego hopes Ford’s friends don’t show up - they’re not true believers. Ford freezes. What friends? The two guys and girl who showed up last night, Diego supplies. They weren’t friends. Chantarelle worries this will interfere with the blessing, but Ford says it won’t be a problem.
Buffy materializes behind Ford and begs to differ. She wants to know what Ford’s up to. To be become a vampire, of course. Funny thing - vampires are picky about who they turn. Then Buffy realizes Ford offered her up as a trade for the “blessing.” At Ford’s signal, Diego locks them in with a special rig that can only be opened from the outside. No doorknob. No way out. They’re trapped. Vampires will enter and no one will leave. Not with a pulse, anyway.
We’ll wrap up tomorrow with the conclusion, review the writing elements spotlighted, and do another GMCD check.
Dialogue in italics from “Lie to Me” by Joss Whedon
Previously on Lie To Me, we learn both Angel and Ford are hiding things from Buffy.
Something feels off about Ford so Angel goes to see Willow. She opens the door to her bedroom balcony but he can’t come in until she invites him. It’s a vampire thing. But what is once done cannot be undone - without some serious magical mojo. The decision hardly seems momentous here, but it will exacerbate a plot crisis in an upcoming episode when Drusilla’s premonitions bear fruit. Another foreshadowing slight of hand.
Angel asks Willow to look Ford up on the internet. Is he jealous? Angel never used to be, but yeah, with Buffy, he is. Willow pokes around and discovers something weird. Ford’s school transcripts haven’t been transmitted as he claims. Willow’s mother comes to the door and prevents further surfing. Willow shoos Angel out, promising to meet the next evening. He asks her not to tell Buffy. Lie to Buffy? Willow’s not good at lying. It’s like asking a cat to care. Never happen. He advises her not to bring it up then. It’s probably nothing, anyway. Sure. You know how bad things hardly ever happen in Sunnydale.
The next day, Ford and Buffy reminisce about prom night at Hemery when Buffy was forced to burn down the gym to destroy a nest of vampires. The worst moment of her life is seen differently through Ford’s eyes. She saved a lot of people. One minute you're a kid, living in your safe kid world, and then - truth hits you in the face. Vampires. I'll never forget that night.
Knowing what we do now, it’s clear this has meaning beyond what Buffy comprehends. It’s also significant beyond what the audience understands, but we don’t realize that until the end. We know he’s a fraud - but he’s not ready to reveal himself. He wonders why everyone in school acted like the fire in the gym never happened. Buffy replies, People ignore truths they don’t like. She will soon discover how true this is.
On the way to class, they pass Willow, who is edgy, bordering on manic, afraid her covert ops will be discovered. When she races off, Ford comments she’s a nice girl. There aren't two of those in the world, Buffy assures him. Another interesting presage, as there will, indeed, be two Willows loose in a couple of future episodes. You have to see it to believe it.
That evening, Buffy and Ford take a walk around campus and come upon a pair of vampires skulking near the admin building. Ford takes out his own stake and follows the female vamp while Buffy trails the bigger male. They separate. Ford catches his vampire but promises to free her if she tells him what he wants to know. By the time Buffy dispatches her vamp and rejoins him, he maintains he’s dusted the girl vamp.
Near the club, Xander, Willow and Angel are searching for Diego. Willow tracks some of Ford’s e-mails from Diego to this address, so Angel uses Ford’s name to gain access. Once inside, they cop to the vampire theme and are approached by Chantarelle. She explains vampires are the Lonely Ones, misunderstood as monsters who just want to suffer the mantle of immortality in peace. Angel’s seen this kind of thing before, kids making up bedtime stories about friendly vampires to comfort themselves in the dark. Lying to avoid truth. A theme resounds.
After sending Ford home, Buffy beeps Giles and Miss Calendar so they can discuss the sighting of vampires on school grounds. Then she spies an old photo of a woman in one of Giles’ books. Giles explains it’s Drusilla, the on-again, off-again girlfriend of Spike. Buffy informs them Dru is in town and was last seen in the company of Angel. Suddenly, the girl vampire Ford supposedly staked lunges out of nowhere, swipes one of the texts, and bolts away. Ford didn’t dust the vamp. He lied to Buffy. What’s going on?
In a darkened warehouse, Drusilla gazes into a birdcage, crooning to a dead bird. Spike, her peroxide prince of darkness, saunters up behind her, unhappy to learn she met Angel while out questing for humans. Angel is the enemy now. Dru prattles on, cajoling the bird to sing. Spike pronounces the bird dead. She didn’t feed it and now it’s dead, just like the last one. She pulls a pout until Spike offers to get her another.
Ford emerges from the shadows of the warehouse, his face aglow with Disneyland fervor. He didn’t go home like a good soldier. In fact, he’s been a very bad boy. He hands Spike the text he had pinched from Giles. Ford knows all about Spike and wants to be a vampire like him. Yawn. Spike is unimpressed and doesn’t feature Ford living forever. When Ford promises to deliver the slayer, Spike changes his tune.
Angel seeks Buffy out at home to tell her Ford isn’t what he appears. Who is, these days? Willow ran a check on Ford. Wait – he and Willow went behind her back? And Xander knew? And no one saw fit to fill her in? Betrayal. Point blank, she hits Angel with Drusilla. He confesses he lied, but he was trying to protect her. Sometimes the truth is worse than a lie. He’s lived long enough to know.
Drusilla was one of the most unconscionable crimes Angel committed as Angelus. Dru became an obsession. She was pure and pious and he turned her into something corrupt and profane. He drove her insane - murdered her family, tortured her for days. She escaped to a convent but he made her into a vampire before she could take her vows. Dru’s earlier assertion about Angel resonates with new menace. Of course he remembers Dru’s mother. He executed her. Who could forget that?
Somber, sincere Angel sired the demented, dangerous Drusilla. Certainly not the kind of thing you want to hear about the man you love. Buffy knows the truth now. She wishes she didn’t, but she asked for it. She can’t hide from it now. Well, she could, but that’s not how Buffy operates. She has to face the fact Ford is lying, too. No friend of the slayer would apply to a secret society that reveres vampires. Disaster in duplicate. Or triplicate, if you count her friends’ we-did-it-for-your-own-good conspiracy. Buffy is smarting.
The next day, Ford flags Buffy down and asks if they can go out hunting vampires again. He’s got a surprise for her. Oh, she bets he does. They make plans to meet later. She watches him go with a heavy heart.
Ford and the True Believers congregate at the club, discussing the coming event when they will be “blessed.” Diego hopes Ford’s friends don’t show up - they’re not true believers. Ford freezes. What friends? The two guys and girl who showed up last night, Diego supplies. They weren’t friends. Chantarelle worries this will interfere with the blessing, but Ford says it won’t be a problem.
Buffy materializes behind Ford and begs to differ. She wants to know what Ford’s up to. To be become a vampire, of course. Funny thing - vampires are picky about who they turn. Then Buffy realizes Ford offered her up as a trade for the “blessing.” At Ford’s signal, Diego locks them in with a special rig that can only be opened from the outside. No doorknob. No way out. They’re trapped. Vampires will enter and no one will leave. Not with a pulse, anyway.
We’ll wrap up tomorrow with the conclusion, review the writing elements spotlighted, and do another GMCD check.
Dialogue in italics from “Lie to Me” by Joss Whedon
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Lie to Me - Part 2
Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive. - Sir Walter Scott
Previously on Lie to Me, we discussed the subterfuge of foreshadowing and how all roads paved in duplicity lead to conflict. Deception is the theme of the Buffy episode, “Lie to Me”, and foreshadowing is the device on display.
The episode opens at night in a playground where a young boy sits, alone and uneasy. Drusilla, the wispy and weakened vampire, drifts onto the scene. She ogles the boy like a starving cat might eye the last canary on earth. He tells her he’s waiting for his mother. In true Dru mode, she natters on as if he hadn’t spoken, rhapsodizing about a nursery rhyme her mother used to sing - in a voice as sweet as cherries. She wonders, What will your mummy sing when they find your body?
Eow. The boy admits he’s not supposed to talk to people. Oh, I’m not a person. If you knew nothing about Dru before, you know all you need to now. Vile, incorporated, and its faithful sidekick, mad as a hatter.
Angel, the vampire with a soul, confronts Drusilla and chases the boy off. Dru asks if Angel remembers how her mother used to sing her to sleep. He does. We sense an “unfortunately” buried in there. It’s confirmed when Dru murmurs, Yes…you do… Something here we don’t know yet. Something obscene. And portentous. Angel warns Dru that she and Spike must get out of Sunnydale. If you don't leave… it'll go badly. For all of us. Brother, you have no idea.
Dru grieves for Angelus, Angel’s diabolic alter ego, who once rampaged across the old country, slaughtering human and demon alike. There was a vampire. Now he is the guardian of good - in fact, he reeks of slayer. Dru can’t stomach it. Poor thing. She has no idea what’s in store.
Angel demands their micro-reign of anarchy end, to which Dru leans in and whispers, Oh, no, my pet. It’s just the beginning. Since Drusilla has the power to see the future, this is especially unsettling. Her visions manifest in random bursts - cryptic drips and dreadful drabs - but when they occur, roll out the blood red carpet. Evil draws nigh.
Every snippet of dialogue is foreshadowing at its best: words masquerading as something else – a veiled threat, a horrible warning. An appalling promise. The hair on the back of your neck stands straight. You can’t help but recoil in fascination.
Compounding things is the presence of the slayer. Buffy spies them from a rooftop not far off. From her angle, it looks as if Angel is kissing some mystery woman in vintage clothing. Her goal to deepen their romantic relationship hits a snag.
At school the next day, Buffy wanders the halls, disheartened. She bumps into Giles, her watcher, and Miss Calendar, the tech teacher. Giles perceives Buffy’s gloom and recommends she take the night off from patrolling, perhaps make plans with Angel. Buffy fears Angel might already have other plans.
During history class, Buffy passes notes to Willow about the peculiar woman she saw Angel with the previous night. While they go back and forth, we are treated to classic Cordelia. Cordy shares her unique prospective on the French revolution: I just don't see why everyone is always ragging on Marie Antoinette. I can so relate to her. She worked really hard to look that good. People don't appreciate that effort.
She adds, the peasants were all depressed. To which Xander interjects, I think you mean “oppressed”. She shrugs it off. Whatever. They were cranky…And Marie Antoinette cared about them. She was gonna let them have cake! Wisdom for the ages. The bell rings, saving us from further insights of the rich and pampered.
Never an Angel fan, Xander is cheered to hear he may have a female side piece. Buffy doesn’t react well so he suggests a night out at The Bronze. Before Buffy can decide, an old friend of Buffy’s pops up. Ford is finishing out high school in Sunnydale b/c his dad got transferred. What luck! Buffy happily invites him to The Bronze and he gladly accepts. Xander mopes, shoved into the backseat of discarded male companions.
At The Bronze, Ford entertains them with blasts from the past until Buffy strides in. She cautions Ford away from a trip down memory lane. Ford teases, You can't touch me, Summers. I know all your darkest secrets.
Oh, yeah? Xander can’t resist. Care to make a small wager on that? An inside joke for the Scooby gang becomes a furtive bit of foreshadowing. Buffy goes for a soda at the bar and runs into Angel, glass in hand. She had no idea he drank non-sanguinary beverages. There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Boy, you can say that again.
She asks Angel what he did the night before. Stayed in. Read. No mention of our lady of ancestral clothing who was violating his air space. The lie sinks in. After suffering through the Halloween night from hell (see The GMC & D of Trick or Treat) and making progress, their relationship takes a giant step backwards.
Buffy returns to the gang, Angel in tow. Introductions are made. Buffy suddenly has an urge to go for a walk with Ford and makes tracks as far away from Angel as possible. Outside The Bronze, a scuffle in the alley alerts Buffy to vampires. She has to get rid of Ford. She distracts him by sending him back in to get her purse.
Buffy dusts the vampires only to find Ford standing behind her, unsurprised. Ford knows she’s the vampire slayer. She doesn’t have to lie to him. I know all your darkest secrets. It would appear he does, after all.
Later, she fills Willow in over the phone. Ford figured out her identity the night before she got booted out of Hemery High, their old high school. How does Buffy feel about that? Glad she doesn’t have to hide her identity from Ford. Happy to have another person she can talk to about it.
Does she? Down a darkened street, Ford walks into a club. It’s done in haunted haute couture, complete with goth wannabes dressed in vampire vogue. One guy, Diego, approaches Ford in ruffled shirt and Dracula cape. He asks Ford if things have been set in motion. Two more days, Ford promises, and they will have what every teen wants. To die young and stay pretty. Uh, oh. That’s never good.
Ford accepts a goblet of liquid and a pill, downing both while watching a vampire video. He mouths along with the words, Fools! There is no way in this life to stop me… which brings to mind his earlier statement, You can't touch me, Summers. Ford isn’t here to revive an old friendship. He’s here to ravage it.
The plot thickens. Before we go, a quick GMCD review for Buffy. Her goal is the ongoing quest to strengthen her relationship with Angel. Motivation – well, what red-blooded all-American slayer wouldn’t? Conflict – she sees him getting up close and personal with a strange woman with antiquated fashion sense. But she’s not ready to close the door on things until – disaster – Angel lies to her about it. What’s a girl to do?
Tune in tomorrow to find out.
Dialogue in italics from “Lie to Me” by Joss Whedon
Previously on Lie to Me, we discussed the subterfuge of foreshadowing and how all roads paved in duplicity lead to conflict. Deception is the theme of the Buffy episode, “Lie to Me”, and foreshadowing is the device on display.
The episode opens at night in a playground where a young boy sits, alone and uneasy. Drusilla, the wispy and weakened vampire, drifts onto the scene. She ogles the boy like a starving cat might eye the last canary on earth. He tells her he’s waiting for his mother. In true Dru mode, she natters on as if he hadn’t spoken, rhapsodizing about a nursery rhyme her mother used to sing - in a voice as sweet as cherries. She wonders, What will your mummy sing when they find your body?
Eow. The boy admits he’s not supposed to talk to people. Oh, I’m not a person. If you knew nothing about Dru before, you know all you need to now. Vile, incorporated, and its faithful sidekick, mad as a hatter.
Angel, the vampire with a soul, confronts Drusilla and chases the boy off. Dru asks if Angel remembers how her mother used to sing her to sleep. He does. We sense an “unfortunately” buried in there. It’s confirmed when Dru murmurs, Yes…you do… Something here we don’t know yet. Something obscene. And portentous. Angel warns Dru that she and Spike must get out of Sunnydale. If you don't leave… it'll go badly. For all of us. Brother, you have no idea.
Dru grieves for Angelus, Angel’s diabolic alter ego, who once rampaged across the old country, slaughtering human and demon alike. There was a vampire. Now he is the guardian of good - in fact, he reeks of slayer. Dru can’t stomach it. Poor thing. She has no idea what’s in store.
Angel demands their micro-reign of anarchy end, to which Dru leans in and whispers, Oh, no, my pet. It’s just the beginning. Since Drusilla has the power to see the future, this is especially unsettling. Her visions manifest in random bursts - cryptic drips and dreadful drabs - but when they occur, roll out the blood red carpet. Evil draws nigh.
Every snippet of dialogue is foreshadowing at its best: words masquerading as something else – a veiled threat, a horrible warning. An appalling promise. The hair on the back of your neck stands straight. You can’t help but recoil in fascination.
Compounding things is the presence of the slayer. Buffy spies them from a rooftop not far off. From her angle, it looks as if Angel is kissing some mystery woman in vintage clothing. Her goal to deepen their romantic relationship hits a snag.
At school the next day, Buffy wanders the halls, disheartened. She bumps into Giles, her watcher, and Miss Calendar, the tech teacher. Giles perceives Buffy’s gloom and recommends she take the night off from patrolling, perhaps make plans with Angel. Buffy fears Angel might already have other plans.
During history class, Buffy passes notes to Willow about the peculiar woman she saw Angel with the previous night. While they go back and forth, we are treated to classic Cordelia. Cordy shares her unique prospective on the French revolution: I just don't see why everyone is always ragging on Marie Antoinette. I can so relate to her. She worked really hard to look that good. People don't appreciate that effort.
She adds, the peasants were all depressed. To which Xander interjects, I think you mean “oppressed”. She shrugs it off. Whatever. They were cranky…And Marie Antoinette cared about them. She was gonna let them have cake! Wisdom for the ages. The bell rings, saving us from further insights of the rich and pampered.
Never an Angel fan, Xander is cheered to hear he may have a female side piece. Buffy doesn’t react well so he suggests a night out at The Bronze. Before Buffy can decide, an old friend of Buffy’s pops up. Ford is finishing out high school in Sunnydale b/c his dad got transferred. What luck! Buffy happily invites him to The Bronze and he gladly accepts. Xander mopes, shoved into the backseat of discarded male companions.
At The Bronze, Ford entertains them with blasts from the past until Buffy strides in. She cautions Ford away from a trip down memory lane. Ford teases, You can't touch me, Summers. I know all your darkest secrets.
Oh, yeah? Xander can’t resist. Care to make a small wager on that? An inside joke for the Scooby gang becomes a furtive bit of foreshadowing. Buffy goes for a soda at the bar and runs into Angel, glass in hand. She had no idea he drank non-sanguinary beverages. There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Boy, you can say that again.
She asks Angel what he did the night before. Stayed in. Read. No mention of our lady of ancestral clothing who was violating his air space. The lie sinks in. After suffering through the Halloween night from hell (see The GMC & D of Trick or Treat) and making progress, their relationship takes a giant step backwards.
Buffy returns to the gang, Angel in tow. Introductions are made. Buffy suddenly has an urge to go for a walk with Ford and makes tracks as far away from Angel as possible. Outside The Bronze, a scuffle in the alley alerts Buffy to vampires. She has to get rid of Ford. She distracts him by sending him back in to get her purse.
Buffy dusts the vampires only to find Ford standing behind her, unsurprised. Ford knows she’s the vampire slayer. She doesn’t have to lie to him. I know all your darkest secrets. It would appear he does, after all.
Later, she fills Willow in over the phone. Ford figured out her identity the night before she got booted out of Hemery High, their old high school. How does Buffy feel about that? Glad she doesn’t have to hide her identity from Ford. Happy to have another person she can talk to about it.
Does she? Down a darkened street, Ford walks into a club. It’s done in haunted haute couture, complete with goth wannabes dressed in vampire vogue. One guy, Diego, approaches Ford in ruffled shirt and Dracula cape. He asks Ford if things have been set in motion. Two more days, Ford promises, and they will have what every teen wants. To die young and stay pretty. Uh, oh. That’s never good.
Ford accepts a goblet of liquid and a pill, downing both while watching a vampire video. He mouths along with the words, Fools! There is no way in this life to stop me… which brings to mind his earlier statement, You can't touch me, Summers. Ford isn’t here to revive an old friendship. He’s here to ravage it.
The plot thickens. Before we go, a quick GMCD review for Buffy. Her goal is the ongoing quest to strengthen her relationship with Angel. Motivation – well, what red-blooded all-American slayer wouldn’t? Conflict – she sees him getting up close and personal with a strange woman with antiquated fashion sense. But she’s not ready to close the door on things until – disaster – Angel lies to her about it. What’s a girl to do?
Tune in tomorrow to find out.
Dialogue in italics from “Lie to Me” by Joss Whedon
Thursday, May 1, 2008
The GMC & D of Trick or Treat - The Wrap Up
“Clothes don’t make the man.” - proverb
Previously on The GMCD of Trick or Treat: Angel, Xander, and Cordy search for Buffy, Giles and Willow attempt to unravel the mystery behind the demon-possessed denizens of Sunnydale, and Buffy is cornered by a homicidal, hygiene-challenged pirate while Spike closes in on Buffy…
Giles and Willow enter the costume shop and confront the owner, Ethan Rayne. Giles recognizes him but it’s no Brady Bunch reunion. Giles urges Willow to run. Now. She scrams. Ethan smiles and calls Giles "Ripper". Hmm, that’s new.
Xander, Angel and Cordy come to Buffy’s rescue. Xander pummels Larry, the black-toothed pirate, dispatching him with great relish. Though Xander still doesn’t recognize Larry, he feels “a strange sense of closure.” Xander shoots…he scores! Goal.
We now enter the boggy grounds of the climax, the Big Black Moment in Deb Dixon speak, or the Resurrection of the Hero’s Journey. Willow rejoins her friends just as Spike surfaces with a battalion of ghouls. The Scoobies flee to safety. Buffy can’t possibly keep up so Angel sweeps her up into his arms.
Ethan mocks Giles’ tweed-clad, goody-goody persona. Giles is apparently more than the well-mannered Englishman we’ve come to know. Rather than bluster with intimidation, he responds with astonishing violence and cold-cocks Ethan. Did I call Giles guileless?
The gang seeks refuge in a warehouse. Angel deposits Buffy where she clings to a resigned if resilient Cordelia. He helps Xander move boxes to block the door. Unfortunately, metal is no match for demon super-strength. Spike and the goon platoon pound their way in.
Giles demands Ethan tell him how to break the spell. When Ethan refuses, Giles delivers a vicious kick to Ethan’s ribs. Ethan realizes Giles has left the building and Ripper stands in his steed. He tells Giles he must break the statue. Giles hurls it against the wall, shattering it to pieces. When he turns back, Ethan is gone.
Xander and Angel are subdued by Spike’s minions. Spike taunts a cringing Buffy, slapping her across the face. He revels in his power over her. Xander breaks free, aims his gun, and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. The gun in his hand is plastic. “What the…”
Spike’s cronies are now two quaking high school students and a couple of shell-shocked seven- year-olds. Before Spike can react, Buffy drops him with a nasty right hook, declaring, “It’s good to be me.” She thrashes Spike, who breaks free and scurries away.
Cordy jabbers to Angel about all the weirdness, but he only has eyes for Buffy. Xander advises Cordy to give up. She’ll never get between Angel and Buffy. He’s tried. It’ll never happen. Then he realizes Willow is gone.
Across town, Willow wakes up in her own body. She takes off the sheet, studies it, then tosses it away. Reborn. Shy, uncertain Willow takes over in the face of tremendous odds and comes through. She stands a little taller, walks a little prouder.
The day wraps with Angel asking Buffy why she thought he’d like her better trussed up like a trimmed turkey. She wanted to be normal for once, be the kind of girl he used to like. Like? Angel shakes his head. He hated simpering misses. They were dull. Moronic. He’s “always wanted to meet someone exciting. Interesting…”
…and? Buffy needs to hear it. Needs him to tell her. That’s why this adventure started, after all. The dearth of personal details. So he gives a little. He shows her. By kissing her.
In the light of day, Giles returns to the costume shop. The place is deserted, the inventory stripped. Giles wanders across the room and finds Ethan’s business card. Scribbled across the front is a promise: “Be seeing you.” We haven’t seen the last of Ethan Rayne. Nor, I wager, Ripper.
Though unaffected by the spell, Giles is revealed to be more than he portrays. The benevolent watcher moves from stuttering professor to uncompromising combatant, a man who will do what he must to protect his slayer. As his inner life is slowly unveiled, we learn he’s capable of a whole lot more than a simple rib-bruising.
When Buffy’s super-strength is restored, she reverts to form – her true form. Here the relationship between midpoint and climax becomes very important. The choice she made that was meant to solve her problem with Angel, but instead escalates the disaster – pretense over personal power – is overturned. She faces her worst fear and trounces it.
She could have stepped aside and let Angel handle Spike if she wanted to continue role-playing. She didn’t. When the rubber hit the road, Buffy chose to be herself.
Xander may not have risen out of the ranks of sissy men completely, but Larry will think twice before thumping him again. Not b/c Xander played soldier boy and knocked Larry around. B/c Xander always backs Buffy up. Incognito or out. Any guy who stands with the slayer, even quaking in his boots – maybe especially so - is no coward. Not when it counts.
Spike lost this round, but he will be back. Sunnydale’s resident evil, he develops into a complicated character that spans many seasons and two series. Little is know about his internal world at this point, but he eventually swings from villain to hero in a convincing arc of evolution.
Self-realization should never come as a complete surprise. Buffy doesn’t abruptly recognize her worth. Willow doesn’t just discover her inner goddess. Xander doesn’t suddenly grow a spine. These things are within them. They just need a new lens through which to focus.
Did the writers drop hints so the audience could anticipate the end? You bet. They foreshadow early on that Buffy has the knowledge inside her. Remember her conversation with Willow, before they pilfered the watcher diaries? Willow definitively states Angel would never fall for Cordelia’s act.
Willow’s right. Angel doesn’t want Buffy to dress up or act differently. He just wants Buffy to be Buffy.
Moral (and theme) of the story - be yourself. You won’t be disappointed. This is first and foremost Buffy’s lesson, but they all hop onto the self-realization bus and hitch a ride. All except Cordy. Meow. But her time will come.
Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, Buffy has her own pair of ruby slippers. She doesn’t exploit the power until she learns to appreciate who she is and what she has to offer: herself. A kind, decent kid who trains hard, sacrifices often, and - every year or so – saves the world.
Dialogue in italics from, “Halloween”, by Carl Ellsworth
Previously on The GMCD of Trick or Treat: Angel, Xander, and Cordy search for Buffy, Giles and Willow attempt to unravel the mystery behind the demon-possessed denizens of Sunnydale, and Buffy is cornered by a homicidal, hygiene-challenged pirate while Spike closes in on Buffy…
Giles and Willow enter the costume shop and confront the owner, Ethan Rayne. Giles recognizes him but it’s no Brady Bunch reunion. Giles urges Willow to run. Now. She scrams. Ethan smiles and calls Giles "Ripper". Hmm, that’s new.
Xander, Angel and Cordy come to Buffy’s rescue. Xander pummels Larry, the black-toothed pirate, dispatching him with great relish. Though Xander still doesn’t recognize Larry, he feels “a strange sense of closure.” Xander shoots…he scores! Goal.
We now enter the boggy grounds of the climax, the Big Black Moment in Deb Dixon speak, or the Resurrection of the Hero’s Journey. Willow rejoins her friends just as Spike surfaces with a battalion of ghouls. The Scoobies flee to safety. Buffy can’t possibly keep up so Angel sweeps her up into his arms.
Ethan mocks Giles’ tweed-clad, goody-goody persona. Giles is apparently more than the well-mannered Englishman we’ve come to know. Rather than bluster with intimidation, he responds with astonishing violence and cold-cocks Ethan. Did I call Giles guileless?
The gang seeks refuge in a warehouse. Angel deposits Buffy where she clings to a resigned if resilient Cordelia. He helps Xander move boxes to block the door. Unfortunately, metal is no match for demon super-strength. Spike and the goon platoon pound their way in.
Giles demands Ethan tell him how to break the spell. When Ethan refuses, Giles delivers a vicious kick to Ethan’s ribs. Ethan realizes Giles has left the building and Ripper stands in his steed. He tells Giles he must break the statue. Giles hurls it against the wall, shattering it to pieces. When he turns back, Ethan is gone.
Xander and Angel are subdued by Spike’s minions. Spike taunts a cringing Buffy, slapping her across the face. He revels in his power over her. Xander breaks free, aims his gun, and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. The gun in his hand is plastic. “What the…”
Spike’s cronies are now two quaking high school students and a couple of shell-shocked seven- year-olds. Before Spike can react, Buffy drops him with a nasty right hook, declaring, “It’s good to be me.” She thrashes Spike, who breaks free and scurries away.
Cordy jabbers to Angel about all the weirdness, but he only has eyes for Buffy. Xander advises Cordy to give up. She’ll never get between Angel and Buffy. He’s tried. It’ll never happen. Then he realizes Willow is gone.
Across town, Willow wakes up in her own body. She takes off the sheet, studies it, then tosses it away. Reborn. Shy, uncertain Willow takes over in the face of tremendous odds and comes through. She stands a little taller, walks a little prouder.
The day wraps with Angel asking Buffy why she thought he’d like her better trussed up like a trimmed turkey. She wanted to be normal for once, be the kind of girl he used to like. Like? Angel shakes his head. He hated simpering misses. They were dull. Moronic. He’s “always wanted to meet someone exciting. Interesting…”
…and? Buffy needs to hear it. Needs him to tell her. That’s why this adventure started, after all. The dearth of personal details. So he gives a little. He shows her. By kissing her.
In the light of day, Giles returns to the costume shop. The place is deserted, the inventory stripped. Giles wanders across the room and finds Ethan’s business card. Scribbled across the front is a promise: “Be seeing you.” We haven’t seen the last of Ethan Rayne. Nor, I wager, Ripper.
Though unaffected by the spell, Giles is revealed to be more than he portrays. The benevolent watcher moves from stuttering professor to uncompromising combatant, a man who will do what he must to protect his slayer. As his inner life is slowly unveiled, we learn he’s capable of a whole lot more than a simple rib-bruising.
When Buffy’s super-strength is restored, she reverts to form – her true form. Here the relationship between midpoint and climax becomes very important. The choice she made that was meant to solve her problem with Angel, but instead escalates the disaster – pretense over personal power – is overturned. She faces her worst fear and trounces it.
She could have stepped aside and let Angel handle Spike if she wanted to continue role-playing. She didn’t. When the rubber hit the road, Buffy chose to be herself.
Xander may not have risen out of the ranks of sissy men completely, but Larry will think twice before thumping him again. Not b/c Xander played soldier boy and knocked Larry around. B/c Xander always backs Buffy up. Incognito or out. Any guy who stands with the slayer, even quaking in his boots – maybe especially so - is no coward. Not when it counts.
Spike lost this round, but he will be back. Sunnydale’s resident evil, he develops into a complicated character that spans many seasons and two series. Little is know about his internal world at this point, but he eventually swings from villain to hero in a convincing arc of evolution.
Self-realization should never come as a complete surprise. Buffy doesn’t abruptly recognize her worth. Willow doesn’t just discover her inner goddess. Xander doesn’t suddenly grow a spine. These things are within them. They just need a new lens through which to focus.
Did the writers drop hints so the audience could anticipate the end? You bet. They foreshadow early on that Buffy has the knowledge inside her. Remember her conversation with Willow, before they pilfered the watcher diaries? Willow definitively states Angel would never fall for Cordelia’s act.
Willow’s right. Angel doesn’t want Buffy to dress up or act differently. He just wants Buffy to be Buffy.
Moral (and theme) of the story - be yourself. You won’t be disappointed. This is first and foremost Buffy’s lesson, but they all hop onto the self-realization bus and hitch a ride. All except Cordy. Meow. But her time will come.
Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, Buffy has her own pair of ruby slippers. She doesn’t exploit the power until she learns to appreciate who she is and what she has to offer: herself. A kind, decent kid who trains hard, sacrifices often, and - every year or so – saves the world.
Dialogue in italics from, “Halloween”, by Carl Ellsworth
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
The GMC & D of Trick or Treat - Disaster
“The most successful people are those who are good at plan B.” - James Yorke
Previously on The GMC & D of Trick or Treat, we assembled the GMCD’s of three major characters: our heroine, Buffy, and her faithful sidekicks, Willow and Xander. We now introduce the villain of the piece and pick up where we left off.
While the Scoobies prepare for Halloween night, vampire villain Spike is plotting to add another notch to his slayer belt (goal). He’s well aware of the underworld tradition of playing nice on Halloween, but he’s never been one for conformity (character trait).
Plus, he’s emotionally invested. Dreamy, deranged Drusilla, his vampire squeeze, is in a weakened state. Spike plans to rid Sunnydale of its slayer so his girl can hunt and heal, worry-free (motivation). His conflict, of course, is the slayer herself.
To complicate matters, the costume shop owner, Ethan, has his own agenda. He begins chanting a spell to a creepy statue hidden in the backroom of his store. No good ever comes of secret chanting in Sunnydale. None. Trust me.
Back at Buffy’s, the girls change into their disguises. Buffy has pieced together a new look for Willow – low-cut belly shirt, leather mini-skirt, come-get-me boots. A heavy metal hussy with a genius IQ. Willow’s soul revolts but she’s too nice to say anything. She can’t toss the ghost sheet over her head fast enough when Xander arrives.
Xander is Private Hand-Me-Down, complete with recycled fatigues, dime-store dog-tags, and made-for-tots toy gun courtesy of Ethan’s shop. They head off to the high school to pick up their gaggle of grammar-schoolers.
Cordelia is dressed as – get this – a cat. Tight, leopard-print unitard, feline accessories, drawn-on whiskers. The writers at Buffy never miss an opportunity for irony.
Larry, a half-baked pirate, stalks over to Xander and sneers, "Where's your bodyguard, Harris? Curling her hair?" In the face of Xander's glare, Larry pretends to lunge. Xander flinches. Larry snickers and walks off. Xander aims his toy weapon at Larry's back, then lowers it, defeated. He tanks again.
Once everyone gleans their kiddie assignments, they hit the streets. The quest for the optimal candy cache is on. Meanwhile, Ethan lights black candles. The chanting gets louder. There’s Latin. And blood. It’s bad, folks. And about to get worse.
Abruptly the candles blow out and Ethan grins with merry malice. He has unhitched a floodgate, drenching Sunnydale in an invisible paranormal wave. One by one, the Scoobies and their charges are hit by something. Everyone is magically transformed into their Halloween costumes. Literally.
Creatures big and small swarm the sidewalks. Gargoyles, trolls, horned beasts. Claws and fangs. Warts and scales. Wings and webbing. People scream. Car alarms shriek. Chaos ignites as the more dangerous give chase to the less fortunate.
Willow collapses to the ground, lifeless, then re-awakens a real ghost. She rises out of the sheeted shell in her hard-rock regalia. Xander staggers then straightens, a fully functional M-16 clutched in his battle-hardened hands. Gone is the goofy grin and crispy quips. He is gun-ho GI-Joe, army of one.
Willow immediately searches for Buffy and Xander. Special Forces Xander doesn’t recognize her but is willing to join ranks. They turn to find Buffy stumbling towards them. Demons approach. Willow asks Buffy for guidance. Eighteenth century Buffy takes one look at the demons and faints dead away.
When she comes to, she doesn’t know who she - or anyone else - is. The slayer is a helpless, pre-suffragette heap. Amnesia abounds. Sunnydale has mutated into a monster mash Boris Karloff would envy. Major disaster.
Willow bemoans Buffy’s undercover camouflage. She couldn’t have dressed up as Xena, warrior princess? No. That was exactly what Buffy was trying to avoid. Being herself. Now what?
Never fear. Now Colonel Courageous, Xander pumps off a few rounds to scare the bad guys away. He’s duty-bound to mow down every menace until Willow reminds him they are real people under a spell. No shooting!
Stepping into the void left by Buffy’s Georgian make-over, Willow takes charge and decides they must get indoors to regroup. With Buffy out of commission, they need a Plan B. Willow leads them to the closest safe haven - Buffy’s house.
Xander stands guard and hears someone scream outside the door. He rushes out and rescues a woman dressed in a cat suit. Cordelia. Cordy apparently skipped memory deletion class and missed the conversion train. The Leona Helmsley of cattiness is always in costume. No need to upgrade. Hee, hee.
Willow has an idea. She tells them to sit tight and takes off, walking through walls. On the other side of town, Spike is elated by the mayhem. He couldn’t ask for better conditions to wage war. His fangs are tingling. Victory is assured.
Angel shows up at Buffy’s for another prearranged date, but neither Xander nor Buffy recognize him. Their up close and personal time will have to wait - again. Darn those pesky external obstacles.
Thankfully Cordy’s data banks are intact and she fills him in. But a vampire ambush frightens Buffy and she dashes from the house.
Willow nearly scares the life out of Giles when she materializes through the library wall. She explains the situation and realizes Cordy didn’t buy her getup at Ethan’s like everyone else. She also remembers Ethan being awfully accommodating when Buffy couldn’t afford to rent her Lady-of-the-Vapors vestment. Giles surmises the key to the spell lies there.
Spike prowls after Buffy while she cowers in an industrial area. She blunders upon Larry, who is now a real pirate. And not the yo-ho-ho, bottle of rum kind. The machete-wielding, murder-is-my-middle-name kind.
Avast! That’s all we have time for today. Tune in tomorrow for the dramatic conclusion and wrap-up. Savvy?
Dialogue in italics from, "Halloween", by Carl Ellsworth
Previously on The GMC & D of Trick or Treat, we assembled the GMCD’s of three major characters: our heroine, Buffy, and her faithful sidekicks, Willow and Xander. We now introduce the villain of the piece and pick up where we left off.
While the Scoobies prepare for Halloween night, vampire villain Spike is plotting to add another notch to his slayer belt (goal). He’s well aware of the underworld tradition of playing nice on Halloween, but he’s never been one for conformity (character trait).
Plus, he’s emotionally invested. Dreamy, deranged Drusilla, his vampire squeeze, is in a weakened state. Spike plans to rid Sunnydale of its slayer so his girl can hunt and heal, worry-free (motivation). His conflict, of course, is the slayer herself.
To complicate matters, the costume shop owner, Ethan, has his own agenda. He begins chanting a spell to a creepy statue hidden in the backroom of his store. No good ever comes of secret chanting in Sunnydale. None. Trust me.
Back at Buffy’s, the girls change into their disguises. Buffy has pieced together a new look for Willow – low-cut belly shirt, leather mini-skirt, come-get-me boots. A heavy metal hussy with a genius IQ. Willow’s soul revolts but she’s too nice to say anything. She can’t toss the ghost sheet over her head fast enough when Xander arrives.
Xander is Private Hand-Me-Down, complete with recycled fatigues, dime-store dog-tags, and made-for-tots toy gun courtesy of Ethan’s shop. They head off to the high school to pick up their gaggle of grammar-schoolers.
Cordelia is dressed as – get this – a cat. Tight, leopard-print unitard, feline accessories, drawn-on whiskers. The writers at Buffy never miss an opportunity for irony.
Larry, a half-baked pirate, stalks over to Xander and sneers, "Where's your bodyguard, Harris? Curling her hair?" In the face of Xander's glare, Larry pretends to lunge. Xander flinches. Larry snickers and walks off. Xander aims his toy weapon at Larry's back, then lowers it, defeated. He tanks again.
Once everyone gleans their kiddie assignments, they hit the streets. The quest for the optimal candy cache is on. Meanwhile, Ethan lights black candles. The chanting gets louder. There’s Latin. And blood. It’s bad, folks. And about to get worse.
Abruptly the candles blow out and Ethan grins with merry malice. He has unhitched a floodgate, drenching Sunnydale in an invisible paranormal wave. One by one, the Scoobies and their charges are hit by something. Everyone is magically transformed into their Halloween costumes. Literally.
Creatures big and small swarm the sidewalks. Gargoyles, trolls, horned beasts. Claws and fangs. Warts and scales. Wings and webbing. People scream. Car alarms shriek. Chaos ignites as the more dangerous give chase to the less fortunate.
Willow collapses to the ground, lifeless, then re-awakens a real ghost. She rises out of the sheeted shell in her hard-rock regalia. Xander staggers then straightens, a fully functional M-16 clutched in his battle-hardened hands. Gone is the goofy grin and crispy quips. He is gun-ho GI-Joe, army of one.
Willow immediately searches for Buffy and Xander. Special Forces Xander doesn’t recognize her but is willing to join ranks. They turn to find Buffy stumbling towards them. Demons approach. Willow asks Buffy for guidance. Eighteenth century Buffy takes one look at the demons and faints dead away.
When she comes to, she doesn’t know who she - or anyone else - is. The slayer is a helpless, pre-suffragette heap. Amnesia abounds. Sunnydale has mutated into a monster mash Boris Karloff would envy. Major disaster.
Willow bemoans Buffy’s undercover camouflage. She couldn’t have dressed up as Xena, warrior princess? No. That was exactly what Buffy was trying to avoid. Being herself. Now what?
Never fear. Now Colonel Courageous, Xander pumps off a few rounds to scare the bad guys away. He’s duty-bound to mow down every menace until Willow reminds him they are real people under a spell. No shooting!
Stepping into the void left by Buffy’s Georgian make-over, Willow takes charge and decides they must get indoors to regroup. With Buffy out of commission, they need a Plan B. Willow leads them to the closest safe haven - Buffy’s house.
Xander stands guard and hears someone scream outside the door. He rushes out and rescues a woman dressed in a cat suit. Cordelia. Cordy apparently skipped memory deletion class and missed the conversion train. The Leona Helmsley of cattiness is always in costume. No need to upgrade. Hee, hee.
Willow has an idea. She tells them to sit tight and takes off, walking through walls. On the other side of town, Spike is elated by the mayhem. He couldn’t ask for better conditions to wage war. His fangs are tingling. Victory is assured.
Angel shows up at Buffy’s for another prearranged date, but neither Xander nor Buffy recognize him. Their up close and personal time will have to wait - again. Darn those pesky external obstacles.
Thankfully Cordy’s data banks are intact and she fills him in. But a vampire ambush frightens Buffy and she dashes from the house.
Willow nearly scares the life out of Giles when she materializes through the library wall. She explains the situation and realizes Cordy didn’t buy her getup at Ethan’s like everyone else. She also remembers Ethan being awfully accommodating when Buffy couldn’t afford to rent her Lady-of-the-Vapors vestment. Giles surmises the key to the spell lies there.
Spike prowls after Buffy while she cowers in an industrial area. She blunders upon Larry, who is now a real pirate. And not the yo-ho-ho, bottle of rum kind. The machete-wielding, murder-is-my-middle-name kind.
Avast! That’s all we have time for today. Tune in tomorrow for the dramatic conclusion and wrap-up. Savvy?
Dialogue in italics from, "Halloween", by Carl Ellsworth
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The GMC & D of Trick or Treat - The Set Up
“Goals are not only absolutely necessary to motivate us. They are essential to really keep us alive.” - Robert H. Schuller
Previously on The GMC & D of Trick or Treat, I defined GMCD and selected the “Halloween” episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to dissect. Let’s meet the heroine and her two best friends.
Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg, and Xander Harris are the embodiment of Sunnydale’s Scooby gang. Their ranks swell and shrink as the series progresses, but they are the heart of the group. Buffy is the sardonic and super-strong leader of the pack. Willow is the brainy, wholesome computer specialist while Xander is the adorably dorky rear guard.
Buffy is attracted to Angel, the vampire with a soul who shares her destiny to fight evil. Like any girl, she’s unsure where she stands. Their relationship is new and tentative. He’s had two hundred plus years to perfect his vision of a dream girl. That’s a lot to live up to. That’s also internal conflict.
She plans to meet Angel at The Bronze, the non-alcoholic everybody-who’s-anybody high school hotspot. This is the external episode goal, a subset of the long-term story goal – a romantic relationship.
Because episodic TV flows differently than novels, the story arc of a particular character stretches across several episodes – even seasons. Consider an episode goal akin to a story goal. In the scope of the show it’s rather short-term, but it follows the same rules as a long-term external goal. Buffy will make several attempts at quality time with Angel until she gets it right.
Why does Buffy want this relationship? She likes him in a way she’s never liked anyone before. He’s special. Besides, what girl doesn’t long for a boyfriend? A universal desire for most teenagers. And a key motivator.
However, when Buffy walks in, she spies Angel chatting it up with teen beauty queen, Cordelia Chase. External conflict.
Cordy is the reigning rich girl with a lock on social status and a cadre of Cordettes who hang on her every fashion syllable. She’s shallow, sharp, and sensationally insensitive. She’s also everything Buffy isn’t: tall, statuesque, self-obsessed. Predatory.
More internal conflict. Buffy’s insecurity radar blips to life. She’s covered in muck from a tussle with vampires in a pumpkin patch and feels like Blue Collar Barbie next to Cordelia’s Rodeo Drive radiance.
Angel can’t dump Cordy fast enough when he sees Buffy, but Cordelia is tenacious. She drops a stealth bomb with pinpoint accuracy, “Love your hair. It just screams street urchin.”
In her diminished state, Buffy’s ego craters. Who is she kidding? Dates are for normal girls (internal goal). She’ll never be normal (internal conflict). Buffy slinks away to lick her wounds, her first attempt thwarted.
Her personal baggage orchestrates this disheartening symphony of concession. She is not yet strong enough to stand up to Cordy (external) or believe in her own feminine appeal (internal), hence she beats a hasty retreat (disaster, both internal and external).
At school the next day, the principal ropes the Scooby gang - and their orbiting satellite of scorn, Cordelia - into the annual Halloween safety program. They must dress in costumes and shepherd a flock of elementary school kids for a couple of hours of trick-or-treating.
Another external obstacle. And unwelcome news for Buffy. Halloween marks the day real ghosts and goblins go to ground while humanity pours into the streets masquerading as them. A sort of house arrest for the unholy.
Her one day off in three-hundred-and-sixty-five and she has to run herd over a bunch of sugar-frosted rug rats. The date with Angel is going to have to wait.
While she and Willow commiserate, Larry - high school jock and bane of Xander’s existence (external conflict) - approaches Xander and asks him what his chances are of “scoring” with Buffy. Xander longs to stand up to bullies (external goal) like Larry plus he’s had a crush on Buffy since they first met.
But – come on, she’s supergirl. What guy could champion her? Especially one who is convinced he’s a coward (internal conflict).
Xander immediately opens mouth, spouts tough guy rhetoric, and inserts foot. He gets exactly what you’d expect – Larry up close and personal. Before Xander can act, Buffy leaps to his defense (more external conflict), easily man-handling Larry. She face-plants him into a locker and recommends Larry “get gone,” which he does.
Angle on Xander, who is mortification squared. His reputation as “sissy man” will now have “unlimited shelf life” thanks to Buffy (disaster). Xander storms off.
Oops. Buffy and Willow contemplate this all of two seconds before moving on to more important things. Like dating. How did her date go with Angel? Buffy replays her lame performance at The Bronze, worrying that he seemed awfully tight with Cordy.
Willow doesn’t believe he’d fall for Cordy’s act for a minute. She’s not his type. That’s the problem, Buffy retorts. What is his type? He’s not exactly a motor-mouth of private minutiae.
A lightbulb goes on for Willow. There’s all kinds of information about Angel in the watcher diaries. Which are in the library. Where Buffy’s perfectly proper - if guileless - watcher, Giles, spends every waking hour as school librarian. Hot dog! Rededication and new short-term goal.
With a little finessing, they confiscate the texts and rifle through to find an image of a beautiful noblewoman. Coiffed, coddled. Entitled. The kind of woman Angel knew. The kind of woman Buffy will never be. Another nail to the heart. Cordy hammers the point deeper when she proclaims Buffy may be a demon expert, but Cordy’s the slayer where dating is concerned (disaster part deux).
Thoroughly demoralized, Buffy and company head to Ethan’s costume shop. Willow wants to stand out like Buffy (external goal), earn a ticket to popularity paradise (motivation), but she’s been president of the nerd club for years (external conflict).
Wouldn’t Halloween be the perfect opportunity to break the mold? Surrounded by possibilities, Willow picks the biggest costume cliché going – a white sheet with eye holes, a goofy smile, and the word “Boo” stenciled across the front (disaster).
Buffy urges Will to seize the moment. Halloween is the only day a nice girl can be someone she’s not, someone “sexy and wild with no repercussions.” This doesn’t sit well with the conservative Willow. She longs for confidence (internal goal), but Buffy’s suggestion is out of her comfort zone (internal conflict). Safer to hide in Buffy’s shadow (motivation).
Then Buffy sees a near replica of the ball gown in the watcher diaries. She doesn’t say it, but of course she’s thinking, “Wait till Angel gets a load of me in this!” Like it’s all about the wrapping, not the gift inside. Buffy doesn’t know that yet. She thinks being someone she’s not is the answer to winning Angel (belief system).
In classic plot structure, this is the midpoint, the point of no return that often marks a reversal in character. Deb Dixon defines it as the gray moment in her Big Black Moment workshop. The heroine develops a false sense of confidence. She’s been handed the keys to the kingdom, but she opens the wrong door.
Buffy doesn’t know it now, but the decision to compromise herself and wear this dress will greatly escalate the coming big black moment of disasters and work heavily in the villain’s favor.
Here also we see the theme of the show manifest: being someone you’re not to make people like you. To win over a boy (Buffy), build esteem (Willow), or earn respect (Xander).
Will it work? Find out in the next installment of the GMC & D of Trick or Treat. We will pick up with the villain of the piece, rising tension, surprising character revelations, and the episode disaster.
Dialogue in italics from, “Halloween”, by Carl Ellsworth
Previously on The GMC & D of Trick or Treat, I defined GMCD and selected the “Halloween” episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to dissect. Let’s meet the heroine and her two best friends.
Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg, and Xander Harris are the embodiment of Sunnydale’s Scooby gang. Their ranks swell and shrink as the series progresses, but they are the heart of the group. Buffy is the sardonic and super-strong leader of the pack. Willow is the brainy, wholesome computer specialist while Xander is the adorably dorky rear guard.
Buffy is attracted to Angel, the vampire with a soul who shares her destiny to fight evil. Like any girl, she’s unsure where she stands. Their relationship is new and tentative. He’s had two hundred plus years to perfect his vision of a dream girl. That’s a lot to live up to. That’s also internal conflict.
She plans to meet Angel at The Bronze, the non-alcoholic everybody-who’s-anybody high school hotspot. This is the external episode goal, a subset of the long-term story goal – a romantic relationship.
Because episodic TV flows differently than novels, the story arc of a particular character stretches across several episodes – even seasons. Consider an episode goal akin to a story goal. In the scope of the show it’s rather short-term, but it follows the same rules as a long-term external goal. Buffy will make several attempts at quality time with Angel until she gets it right.
Why does Buffy want this relationship? She likes him in a way she’s never liked anyone before. He’s special. Besides, what girl doesn’t long for a boyfriend? A universal desire for most teenagers. And a key motivator.
However, when Buffy walks in, she spies Angel chatting it up with teen beauty queen, Cordelia Chase. External conflict.
Cordy is the reigning rich girl with a lock on social status and a cadre of Cordettes who hang on her every fashion syllable. She’s shallow, sharp, and sensationally insensitive. She’s also everything Buffy isn’t: tall, statuesque, self-obsessed. Predatory.
More internal conflict. Buffy’s insecurity radar blips to life. She’s covered in muck from a tussle with vampires in a pumpkin patch and feels like Blue Collar Barbie next to Cordelia’s Rodeo Drive radiance.
Angel can’t dump Cordy fast enough when he sees Buffy, but Cordelia is tenacious. She drops a stealth bomb with pinpoint accuracy, “Love your hair. It just screams street urchin.”
In her diminished state, Buffy’s ego craters. Who is she kidding? Dates are for normal girls (internal goal). She’ll never be normal (internal conflict). Buffy slinks away to lick her wounds, her first attempt thwarted.
Her personal baggage orchestrates this disheartening symphony of concession. She is not yet strong enough to stand up to Cordy (external) or believe in her own feminine appeal (internal), hence she beats a hasty retreat (disaster, both internal and external).
At school the next day, the principal ropes the Scooby gang - and their orbiting satellite of scorn, Cordelia - into the annual Halloween safety program. They must dress in costumes and shepherd a flock of elementary school kids for a couple of hours of trick-or-treating.
Another external obstacle. And unwelcome news for Buffy. Halloween marks the day real ghosts and goblins go to ground while humanity pours into the streets masquerading as them. A sort of house arrest for the unholy.
Her one day off in three-hundred-and-sixty-five and she has to run herd over a bunch of sugar-frosted rug rats. The date with Angel is going to have to wait.
While she and Willow commiserate, Larry - high school jock and bane of Xander’s existence (external conflict) - approaches Xander and asks him what his chances are of “scoring” with Buffy. Xander longs to stand up to bullies (external goal) like Larry plus he’s had a crush on Buffy since they first met.
But – come on, she’s supergirl. What guy could champion her? Especially one who is convinced he’s a coward (internal conflict).
Xander immediately opens mouth, spouts tough guy rhetoric, and inserts foot. He gets exactly what you’d expect – Larry up close and personal. Before Xander can act, Buffy leaps to his defense (more external conflict), easily man-handling Larry. She face-plants him into a locker and recommends Larry “get gone,” which he does.
Angle on Xander, who is mortification squared. His reputation as “sissy man” will now have “unlimited shelf life” thanks to Buffy (disaster). Xander storms off.
Oops. Buffy and Willow contemplate this all of two seconds before moving on to more important things. Like dating. How did her date go with Angel? Buffy replays her lame performance at The Bronze, worrying that he seemed awfully tight with Cordy.
Willow doesn’t believe he’d fall for Cordy’s act for a minute. She’s not his type. That’s the problem, Buffy retorts. What is his type? He’s not exactly a motor-mouth of private minutiae.
A lightbulb goes on for Willow. There’s all kinds of information about Angel in the watcher diaries. Which are in the library. Where Buffy’s perfectly proper - if guileless - watcher, Giles, spends every waking hour as school librarian. Hot dog! Rededication and new short-term goal.
With a little finessing, they confiscate the texts and rifle through to find an image of a beautiful noblewoman. Coiffed, coddled. Entitled. The kind of woman Angel knew. The kind of woman Buffy will never be. Another nail to the heart. Cordy hammers the point deeper when she proclaims Buffy may be a demon expert, but Cordy’s the slayer where dating is concerned (disaster part deux).
Thoroughly demoralized, Buffy and company head to Ethan’s costume shop. Willow wants to stand out like Buffy (external goal), earn a ticket to popularity paradise (motivation), but she’s been president of the nerd club for years (external conflict).
Wouldn’t Halloween be the perfect opportunity to break the mold? Surrounded by possibilities, Willow picks the biggest costume cliché going – a white sheet with eye holes, a goofy smile, and the word “Boo” stenciled across the front (disaster).
Buffy urges Will to seize the moment. Halloween is the only day a nice girl can be someone she’s not, someone “sexy and wild with no repercussions.” This doesn’t sit well with the conservative Willow. She longs for confidence (internal goal), but Buffy’s suggestion is out of her comfort zone (internal conflict). Safer to hide in Buffy’s shadow (motivation).
Then Buffy sees a near replica of the ball gown in the watcher diaries. She doesn’t say it, but of course she’s thinking, “Wait till Angel gets a load of me in this!” Like it’s all about the wrapping, not the gift inside. Buffy doesn’t know that yet. She thinks being someone she’s not is the answer to winning Angel (belief system).
In classic plot structure, this is the midpoint, the point of no return that often marks a reversal in character. Deb Dixon defines it as the gray moment in her Big Black Moment workshop. The heroine develops a false sense of confidence. She’s been handed the keys to the kingdom, but she opens the wrong door.
Buffy doesn’t know it now, but the decision to compromise herself and wear this dress will greatly escalate the coming big black moment of disasters and work heavily in the villain’s favor.
Here also we see the theme of the show manifest: being someone you’re not to make people like you. To win over a boy (Buffy), build esteem (Willow), or earn respect (Xander).
Will it work? Find out in the next installment of the GMC & D of Trick or Treat. We will pick up with the villain of the piece, rising tension, surprising character revelations, and the episode disaster.
Dialogue in italics from, “Halloween”, by Carl Ellsworth
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Grappling with Hooks
"Each time, storytellers clothed the naked body of the myth in their own traditions, so that listeners could relate more easily to its deeper meaning." - Joan D. Vinge
Puppies are irresistible. A cliché, maybe, but one that’s hard to argue. When you spot a rumbling, tumbling ball of frolicking fur, you can’t resist. Even if you don’t like dogs. Puppies are powerful magnets that draw you against your will b/c the pull is beyond your ability to resist.
Why? There’s the cuteness factor, but the underlying vulnerability and unconditional love complicate matters. They generate conflict, soften the hardest of stone cold cynics, and punch holes through the barrier of cliché to capture the rational mind within.
That’s what a good story hook does. I’m wrestling with this in my current wip (work-in-progress), so it’s near and dear to my heart. Since hook is the launching pad for all other story elements, it helps to get it right. It sells your idea and attracts readers. It’s the warm furry coat encasing all that boundless energy and eagerness into a package that is both universal and unique.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer had a distinct hook. California teen loves clothes and slays vampires. You can almost guess that from the title. What you may not guess? The girl behind the myth is as defenseless to the human condition as the next gal.
Joss Whedon, the creator of Buffy, took the classic horror movie moment – the flailing, falling, female victim – and flipped it upside down. In Whedon’s universe, the girl does not collapse in a heap at the monster’s feet. She pivots, blocks, and delivers a roundhouse kick that can topple a one car garage. The ultimate powerpuff girl with fashion flare. Gidget, the next generation.
Finally! A teen role model a mother can get behind.
Buffy is no Rhodes Scholar but she’s nobody’s dumb blonde, either. On the surface, she’s like any transplanted teen. She relocates to a new town, leaves behind all her friends, and struggles to remake herself at a new high school. Every kid’s nightmare. But a universal one.
With two, tiny exceptions. One, the town, Sunnydale, is located over a Hellmouth. That’s pretty unique in my experience. Two, a stranger appears on her sixteenth birthday to give her the news all teenagers long to hear – she’s a superhero! But – and there’s always a but - she will spend the rest of her life fighting evil. And no one can know. Not even her mother. Stuck with the worse vocation since Obi Wan Kenobi and she can’t tell a soul.
Buffy rejects it immediately, but providence crashes the party. She corners a gang of vampires inside her old high school gym and burns it to the ground. She can’t explain this to the principal, her mom, or her dad. They think Gidget’s gone postal. Her parents’ marriage crumbles and Buffy’s mom resettles in Sunnydale for a fresh start…
…over the Hellmouth. The school librarian turns out to be a watcher, the man charged with training Buffy in the fine art of staying alive. He’s a proper British encyclopedia of all things that go bump in the night: demons, werewolves, zombies, incubi, succubi. Buffy can’t run away fast enough. In fact, she spends most of the first season ducking her destiny, but is constantly sucked back in b/c there’s no one who can do what she can do.
Complications. The best hook opens the door and invites conflict in.
She makes friends. Friends she’d rather not see turned into vampire cat toys. She grows fond of her father figure watcher. She can’t sit back and let demons have their due. They’ll eat everyone she cares about. Or worse – transform them into blood-sucking fiends.
The show is steeped in mythology, but it’s the human element that grips the audience. Like all superheroes, Buffy must hide her identity, but the way it’s done prevents story from descending into cliché. Safeguarding this secret - a whopper for any teenage girl – compounds her life, undermining her relationship with her mother. Buffy is forced to make choices she can’t defend, cutting classes during the day and breaking curfew at night.
She gets what every kid gets in that situation. Grounded.
Hard to save the world when you’re grounded. And a subtle reminder that Buffy’s still a girl, one who wants what every girl wants - to fit in, be accepted. Normal. Something she will never be.
Yanks the puppy heartstrings, doesn’t it? That’s what a good hook does - zeroes in on a universal theme then juices it up with the fresh squeezed fruit of characterization. Buffy loves her mom, sweats her grades, longs for approval. A human trapped inside a superhuman body.
This is no ‘monster of the week’ show. The question is never, “What new creepy crawly will Buffy face?” It’s, “What does she need to learn to survive? Why now?”
The hook is the ultimate teenage metaphor – high school is hell - where each new monster symbolizes another challenge in the march to adulthood: peer pressure, accountability, facing fears, the heartache of unpopularity. The list is endless, fascinating, and relevant.
And all circle back to the hook. Why does this work? Character development. A stereotype (sunny, blonde valley girl) turned on its head (vampire slayer) and littered with heart (family, friends, self-esteem issues), muscle (preternatural powers), and location (Southern California), location (high school), location (Hellmouth).
Grappling with a hook? Take a stereotype, twirl it in an unexpected direction, layer it with flesh and bone, and set it in an unlikely place. Then see where it takes you.
On a personal aside, it's my sister's birthday. Happy Birthday, Rita!
Puppies are irresistible. A cliché, maybe, but one that’s hard to argue. When you spot a rumbling, tumbling ball of frolicking fur, you can’t resist. Even if you don’t like dogs. Puppies are powerful magnets that draw you against your will b/c the pull is beyond your ability to resist.
Why? There’s the cuteness factor, but the underlying vulnerability and unconditional love complicate matters. They generate conflict, soften the hardest of stone cold cynics, and punch holes through the barrier of cliché to capture the rational mind within.
That’s what a good story hook does. I’m wrestling with this in my current wip (work-in-progress), so it’s near and dear to my heart. Since hook is the launching pad for all other story elements, it helps to get it right. It sells your idea and attracts readers. It’s the warm furry coat encasing all that boundless energy and eagerness into a package that is both universal and unique.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer had a distinct hook. California teen loves clothes and slays vampires. You can almost guess that from the title. What you may not guess? The girl behind the myth is as defenseless to the human condition as the next gal.
Joss Whedon, the creator of Buffy, took the classic horror movie moment – the flailing, falling, female victim – and flipped it upside down. In Whedon’s universe, the girl does not collapse in a heap at the monster’s feet. She pivots, blocks, and delivers a roundhouse kick that can topple a one car garage. The ultimate powerpuff girl with fashion flare. Gidget, the next generation.
Finally! A teen role model a mother can get behind.
Buffy is no Rhodes Scholar but she’s nobody’s dumb blonde, either. On the surface, she’s like any transplanted teen. She relocates to a new town, leaves behind all her friends, and struggles to remake herself at a new high school. Every kid’s nightmare. But a universal one.
With two, tiny exceptions. One, the town, Sunnydale, is located over a Hellmouth. That’s pretty unique in my experience. Two, a stranger appears on her sixteenth birthday to give her the news all teenagers long to hear – she’s a superhero! But – and there’s always a but - she will spend the rest of her life fighting evil. And no one can know. Not even her mother. Stuck with the worse vocation since Obi Wan Kenobi and she can’t tell a soul.
Buffy rejects it immediately, but providence crashes the party. She corners a gang of vampires inside her old high school gym and burns it to the ground. She can’t explain this to the principal, her mom, or her dad. They think Gidget’s gone postal. Her parents’ marriage crumbles and Buffy’s mom resettles in Sunnydale for a fresh start…
…over the Hellmouth. The school librarian turns out to be a watcher, the man charged with training Buffy in the fine art of staying alive. He’s a proper British encyclopedia of all things that go bump in the night: demons, werewolves, zombies, incubi, succubi. Buffy can’t run away fast enough. In fact, she spends most of the first season ducking her destiny, but is constantly sucked back in b/c there’s no one who can do what she can do.
Complications. The best hook opens the door and invites conflict in.
She makes friends. Friends she’d rather not see turned into vampire cat toys. She grows fond of her father figure watcher. She can’t sit back and let demons have their due. They’ll eat everyone she cares about. Or worse – transform them into blood-sucking fiends.
The show is steeped in mythology, but it’s the human element that grips the audience. Like all superheroes, Buffy must hide her identity, but the way it’s done prevents story from descending into cliché. Safeguarding this secret - a whopper for any teenage girl – compounds her life, undermining her relationship with her mother. Buffy is forced to make choices she can’t defend, cutting classes during the day and breaking curfew at night.
She gets what every kid gets in that situation. Grounded.
Hard to save the world when you’re grounded. And a subtle reminder that Buffy’s still a girl, one who wants what every girl wants - to fit in, be accepted. Normal. Something she will never be.
Yanks the puppy heartstrings, doesn’t it? That’s what a good hook does - zeroes in on a universal theme then juices it up with the fresh squeezed fruit of characterization. Buffy loves her mom, sweats her grades, longs for approval. A human trapped inside a superhuman body.
This is no ‘monster of the week’ show. The question is never, “What new creepy crawly will Buffy face?” It’s, “What does she need to learn to survive? Why now?”
The hook is the ultimate teenage metaphor – high school is hell - where each new monster symbolizes another challenge in the march to adulthood: peer pressure, accountability, facing fears, the heartache of unpopularity. The list is endless, fascinating, and relevant.
And all circle back to the hook. Why does this work? Character development. A stereotype (sunny, blonde valley girl) turned on its head (vampire slayer) and littered with heart (family, friends, self-esteem issues), muscle (preternatural powers), and location (Southern California), location (high school), location (Hellmouth).
Grappling with a hook? Take a stereotype, twirl it in an unexpected direction, layer it with flesh and bone, and set it in an unlikely place. Then see where it takes you.
On a personal aside, it's my sister's birthday. Happy Birthday, Rita!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Introduction
"Begin with the end in mind." - Kathy Clark
Welcome. This is my inaugural entry into blogging. I’m an unpublished romance writer. I’m not trying to command an influential, worldwide audience or publish breaking news. I’m just trying to hone my writing skills when I’m stumped creatively. If you learn something along the way, that's icing on the cake.
I’m in my forties and the sad fact is, I’m in my forties. I can’t put it any more eloquently than that.
Writing is all about revealing character. I’ll try to reveal something about myself in every entry, along with nuggets of craft I’ve picked up along the way. I can’t promise I’ll do this daily and I think you’ll thank me for that in the long run.
Why a blog? Because there just aren’t enough of them out there. Truthfully, I stumbled across the blog of Jane Espenson, a seriously savvy television writer. I’m a dedicated Joss Whedon fan and Jane was on staff at Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I learned tons about character and story from the Whedon-verse, including some fascinating insights from Jane’s blog.
Check it out. I recommend it, no matter what writing medium you pursue. She targets the nuts and bolts of script writing, but so much of it is relevant to craft – character, dialogue, humor. You can’t go wrong. Plus she’s layers of funny.
To get an idea what inspires me, check out the sidebar for some of my favorite things. If these don’t work for you, it’ll save you a lot of time. I won’t list dislikes, but I have to be honest - I don’t like mushrooms. I can’t eat fungus, I’m sorry. If that’s a deal-breaker, I’ll understand.
Since TV is the theme, let’s start there. The best shows are those that emphasize character in terms of hook. The hook draws us in, but characterization keeps us thirsting for more.
Several successful 90’s sitcoms centered on characters living in the big city – Friends, Seinfeld, and Sex in the City come to mind - but it was the characters’ evolving emotional life that had people tuning in. The ha-has were great, but they were reactions to their urban situations, and those reactions revealed something about character.
For a bigger dramatic payoff, take Angel. This spinoff of Buffy the Vampire Slayer featured a vampire with a soul who moves to Los Angeles to help people while seeking salvation for his “vampire without a soul” past. The soul angle freshens the vampire hook and guarantees a moral struggle with every person – or creature - he encounters, good and bad.
In a fifth season episode, “Just Rewards”, Angel has been handed the reins of the law firm, Wolfram & Hart, and decides to use their extensive resources to continue the good fight. He elects to fire an undesirable client. Spike, another vampire, tags along for the sacking. They’ve always had a contentious relationship, but Angel’s unique status as “vampire with a soul” is challenged b/c Spike has a soul, too.
Why is this an issue now? Angel only recently learned of Spike’s spiritual enhancement. He’s astonished and not a little intimidated. When Spike complains Angel has this empire at his disposal while Spike has been transformed into a lousy ghost after surrendering himself to save the world - how’s that fair? - Angel retorts: “Fair? You asked for a soul. I didn't. It almost killed me. I spent a hundred years trying to come to terms with infinite remorse. You spent three weeks moaning in a basement, and then you were fine! What's fair about that?” *
Big reveal in contrast - Angel was cursed with a soul, Spike asked for one. We know this entering the episode, but we don’t know Angel’s reaction until now. It’s speaks directly to his internal conflict, neatly linking back to the episode’s title – not to mention the show’s hook. Both characters feel unjustly served by sacrifices they’ve made on their journey for redemption. What is just rewards, then? How is justice earned? Or is it? It also plants a new story question. Spike is not only strong enough to seek a soul, but pay the consequences with relative ease. What does that say about Angel? Who’s the hero now?
Why do we care? Infinite remorse. Those two words evoke a boatload of empathy. Remorse is universal. Infinite punches up the ‘ouch’ factor. And the inequality of one hundred years versus three weeks – well, that would sink sinner and saint alike.
The premise was not, “How does Angel feel about Spike’s new soul?” Angel’s goal is to fire an evil client. A fairly straightforward decision. With unforeseen emotional consequences. The client is understandably unhappy and convinces Spike to double-cross Angel. Or does he? The line between hero and villain is blurred, almost redefined at times. Angel is forced to confront this truth and re-examine his path in life. Instead of getting clearer, it gets a whole lot murkier.
Romance writers must capture the emotional heart of story through premise. A story is about a character seeking a goal. The romance is not the goal. It’s the thing that gets in the way of the goal. Maybe not the only thing, but it’s definitely a monster obstacle.
I’ve personally struggled with this concept in the past and found analyzing well written episodic TV a great help. Premise is easy to detect. It’s external. The emotional heart is internal. And it’s what sells books. So do hooks, but that’s a topic for another day.
During your down time, watch one of your favorite shows and see if you can catch the reason this episode was written. Not the premise, but the emotional heart. What is revealed about character? Why now? And most important – why did you care?
* Dialogue from ‘Just Rewards’ teleplay by David Fury and Ben Edlund
Welcome. This is my inaugural entry into blogging. I’m an unpublished romance writer. I’m not trying to command an influential, worldwide audience or publish breaking news. I’m just trying to hone my writing skills when I’m stumped creatively. If you learn something along the way, that's icing on the cake.
I’m in my forties and the sad fact is, I’m in my forties. I can’t put it any more eloquently than that.
Writing is all about revealing character. I’ll try to reveal something about myself in every entry, along with nuggets of craft I’ve picked up along the way. I can’t promise I’ll do this daily and I think you’ll thank me for that in the long run.
Why a blog? Because there just aren’t enough of them out there. Truthfully, I stumbled across the blog of Jane Espenson, a seriously savvy television writer. I’m a dedicated Joss Whedon fan and Jane was on staff at Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I learned tons about character and story from the Whedon-verse, including some fascinating insights from Jane’s blog.
Check it out. I recommend it, no matter what writing medium you pursue. She targets the nuts and bolts of script writing, but so much of it is relevant to craft – character, dialogue, humor. You can’t go wrong. Plus she’s layers of funny.
To get an idea what inspires me, check out the sidebar for some of my favorite things. If these don’t work for you, it’ll save you a lot of time. I won’t list dislikes, but I have to be honest - I don’t like mushrooms. I can’t eat fungus, I’m sorry. If that’s a deal-breaker, I’ll understand.
Since TV is the theme, let’s start there. The best shows are those that emphasize character in terms of hook. The hook draws us in, but characterization keeps us thirsting for more.
Several successful 90’s sitcoms centered on characters living in the big city – Friends, Seinfeld, and Sex in the City come to mind - but it was the characters’ evolving emotional life that had people tuning in. The ha-has were great, but they were reactions to their urban situations, and those reactions revealed something about character.
For a bigger dramatic payoff, take Angel. This spinoff of Buffy the Vampire Slayer featured a vampire with a soul who moves to Los Angeles to help people while seeking salvation for his “vampire without a soul” past. The soul angle freshens the vampire hook and guarantees a moral struggle with every person – or creature - he encounters, good and bad.
In a fifth season episode, “Just Rewards”, Angel has been handed the reins of the law firm, Wolfram & Hart, and decides to use their extensive resources to continue the good fight. He elects to fire an undesirable client. Spike, another vampire, tags along for the sacking. They’ve always had a contentious relationship, but Angel’s unique status as “vampire with a soul” is challenged b/c Spike has a soul, too.
Why is this an issue now? Angel only recently learned of Spike’s spiritual enhancement. He’s astonished and not a little intimidated. When Spike complains Angel has this empire at his disposal while Spike has been transformed into a lousy ghost after surrendering himself to save the world - how’s that fair? - Angel retorts: “Fair? You asked for a soul. I didn't. It almost killed me. I spent a hundred years trying to come to terms with infinite remorse. You spent three weeks moaning in a basement, and then you were fine! What's fair about that?” *
Big reveal in contrast - Angel was cursed with a soul, Spike asked for one. We know this entering the episode, but we don’t know Angel’s reaction until now. It’s speaks directly to his internal conflict, neatly linking back to the episode’s title – not to mention the show’s hook. Both characters feel unjustly served by sacrifices they’ve made on their journey for redemption. What is just rewards, then? How is justice earned? Or is it? It also plants a new story question. Spike is not only strong enough to seek a soul, but pay the consequences with relative ease. What does that say about Angel? Who’s the hero now?
Why do we care? Infinite remorse. Those two words evoke a boatload of empathy. Remorse is universal. Infinite punches up the ‘ouch’ factor. And the inequality of one hundred years versus three weeks – well, that would sink sinner and saint alike.
The premise was not, “How does Angel feel about Spike’s new soul?” Angel’s goal is to fire an evil client. A fairly straightforward decision. With unforeseen emotional consequences. The client is understandably unhappy and convinces Spike to double-cross Angel. Or does he? The line between hero and villain is blurred, almost redefined at times. Angel is forced to confront this truth and re-examine his path in life. Instead of getting clearer, it gets a whole lot murkier.
Romance writers must capture the emotional heart of story through premise. A story is about a character seeking a goal. The romance is not the goal. It’s the thing that gets in the way of the goal. Maybe not the only thing, but it’s definitely a monster obstacle.
I’ve personally struggled with this concept in the past and found analyzing well written episodic TV a great help. Premise is easy to detect. It’s external. The emotional heart is internal. And it’s what sells books. So do hooks, but that’s a topic for another day.
During your down time, watch one of your favorite shows and see if you can catch the reason this episode was written. Not the premise, but the emotional heart. What is revealed about character? Why now? And most important – why did you care?
* Dialogue from ‘Just Rewards’ teleplay by David Fury and Ben Edlund
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