Buffy the Vampire Slayer

I first saw most—if not all—of the episodes of Season One of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on television, presumably around the time they first aired. At the time, I was an elementary school student in Grade 2 or 1. From the very beginning I thought it was an exciting, thrilling, and enjoyable TV show. Other shows I liked at the time included Sailor Moon and ReBoot. Of course, Buffy the Vampire Slayer wasn’t animated and felt more sophisticated and grown-up. For whatever reasons, after my mother and I moved to another apartment building with her boyfriend, I did not continue watching any of those shows and only started watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD in my early teenage years.

Perhaps this TV series does not truly count as a guilty pleasure; and although I was seldom afraid to admit that Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a show that I liked and watched, not everyone responded in a way that led me to believe that they themselves liked the show, so perhaps, in certain respects, it was a guilty pleasure, and perhaps to a certain degree, continues to be one, even if I’m not as passionate about it anymore. A detached and objective assessment of Buffy the Vampire Slayer could posit that it’s an often thematically-pleasing and aesthetically-pleasing pop culture production—a supernatural soap opera replete with drama, romance, monsters, and some implausible plots.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer encompasses various motifs and themes such as bewrayment, disillusionment, friendship, relationships, and middle-class insecurities and anxieties about individuating and maturing into a responsible adult. The human elements (as well as some of the dangerous or tragic possibilities) of young adulthood are illustrated through supernatural and dramatic episodes, some of which are allegorical, fantastic, ambiguous, or fatalistic. During the first (and second) viewing of this television series, I often found myself entranced by the characters and plot, and sometimes even emotionally invested. Many years later, I still appreciate moments of artistry or humor (e.g. in episodes like Season Four’s “Restless” or Season Two’s “Reptile Boy”).

Many of the characters themselves seem realistic and somehow true-to-life, perhaps to serve as a grounding counterbalance against the supernatural elements. Yet one could argue that without the monsters and vampires and supernatural elements, a lot of these characters might seem rather prosaic and average at times. Nevertheless, a certain degree of individualism runs through Buffy the Vampire Slayer in regards to being true to oneself and becoming the virtuous and fulfilled individual one is meant to be. Buffy Summers is the down-to-earth enforcer of order and morality who sometimes feels like rebelling against her duties and the vital, almost-perfect (yet often unappreciated) role she has to play in the narrative. Giles is the usually serious scholar who has been educated as a guide and trainer (i.e. Watcher) for the Slayer, and then finds himself also playing the role of a father figure (for Buffy and her friends), and later on questioning his purpose and identity when he thinks his role has become obsolete or superfluous. Willow Rosenberg is the studious, occasionally quirky and insecure, introverted intellectual who—partially due to Buffy’s influence—gradually becomes more courageous in her romantic life. Xander Harris is the occasionally lovable and friendly, boyish loser and mediocre student who is close friends with Willow from the beginning, likes country music, and manages to make something of himself when he grows up. Spike—the occasionally politically incorrect rebel without a cause—is a vampire without a soul (like most vampires), yet ends up following a path of gradual rehabilitation and redemption.

If the artistic vitality of Buffy the Vampire Slayer ever temporarily wanes over the course of its storyline, then it’s due to its philosophically unresolved forays into the self-destructiveness and destructiveness of young adulthood combined with paranormal plot contrivances that sometimes detract from the show’s authenticity. Not surprisingly, this is seldom an issue in the earlier, more youthful seasons (i.e. Seasons 1-4). While Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s spin-off series, Angel, sometimes, albeit admirably, finds itself weighed down by gloomier philosophical problems, Buffy the Vampire Slayer manages to invariably return to a feeling of lightness and hope in spite of its tragedies. In addition, its lightness and comedy are more frequent, natural, and sincere. When Angel’s artistic vitality occasionally wanes, it’s because it fails to follow a gloomy, philosophical revelation with something equally meaningful yet more uplifting. Yet for the most part, these supposed issues don’t affect either series too much.

A lot of the characters in the spin-off series, Angel, began their journeys on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, including three important characters I will discuss in this paragraph. Cordelia Chase is the colorful, feisty, and occasionally narcissistic cheerleader who eventually becomes an aspiring actress, and over time becomes less self-absorbed as well. I always found her to be one of the funniest characters in both shows, and she just might be my favorite character. Faith is the attractive, hedonistic, occasionally envious Bad Girl who comes from a troubled and lower class family background and gradually sins her way toward redemption. Angel is the handsome vampire with a soul, the strong silent type with a troubled history who helps Buffy and falls in love with her, yet ultimately leaves her for her own good and moves to Los Angeles (the setting of his show Angel). Both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel largely eschew dogma and ideology in favor of vivid and philosophical illustrations and allegories of real-life experiences and events. More taboo subjects are also depicted. I still remember being impressed and mesmerized by the depiction of a beautiful woman accidentally murdering someone while performing her slayer duties, and then, due to a variety of factors, choosing to embark on a life of crime. Although I don’t feel as emotionally involved witnessing Faith’s character arc anymore, I still think her ultimate redemption, which she chooses with Angel’s help, is a timeless and universal story.

The year I finally started watching all of Buffy the Vampire Slayer on DVD in my early teenage years was also the year I found myself immersed in a particular religious denomination’s proselytization. While I don’t harbor any hard feelings for that roughly year-long experience whatsoever, at the time I started to accumulate a lot of guilt and anxiety about watching television shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, listening to music, being interested in certain books, etc. Because any interest in the “occult” or entertainment that featured it was explicitly frowned upon, before they would visit for Bible study at our apartment, I would always make sure to hide the DVDs under my blanket or bed. In that case, it was truly a guilty pleasure—“guilty” being the operative word.

While, for better or worse, I haven’t kept really up-to-date with every new pop culture production or TV show, I think it’s safe to say that Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel were kind of revolutionary in certain respects and hopefully paved the way for more revolutionary series and films in the future. I personally think it would be good to have television series and characters that can represent almost every subculture and culture in a way that leads to more healing and dialogue and less alienation and divisiveness. I don’t see any reason why there can’t be more shows as good as Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel that include a greater variety of people of all races, ethnicities and groups, and also include a greater variety of bisexual and gay men and women with different styles of sexuality, as well as people who don’t conform to orthodoxies, gender stereotypes, and expectations.