She Is the Slayer

At the advice of just about everyone I know, I’ve finally embarked on my Buffy the Vampire Slayer journey. And a double episode in, I can tell you quite confidently that I want more.

Sure, some of the dialogue needs work, and not all the actors have wholeheartedly committed to it yet (it’s tricky to write fake teenage lingo into Joss Whedon’s florid-yet-snappy style; delivering such a line believably is trickier still.) Sure, we’re very much still in the 90s (judging by the theme song, Cordelia’s teased hair, and her cellphone antenna.) And sure, the plot manages to get simultaneously convoluted and oversimplified (the gang stopping to confer in the library, for instance, when facing imminent doom – and when inevitably all will be resolved in a grand fight scene anyway – really irks me.)

Overall, though, I’m surprised at how effectively the show has already established its voice. The characters – and much of the dialogue, really, for all my nitpicking – are right on target straight out of the gate. Buffy’s far more bearable than I had expected, and even, dare I say, pretty cute. Xander’s conversational fits and starts when he shoots off little quips actually remind me of Joss Whedon in interviews I’ve seen. Giles’s dry delivery offsets the sarcastic teens perfectly. And Willow’s unassuming nerdiness (to Buffy’s saying she’ll be right back: “Oh, that’s all right; you don’t have to come back,”) has won me over heart and soul.

The metaphors have already made themselves apparent if you know to look for them; this show focuses on misunderstood teenagers dealing with unknown adversity in all its forms. Buffy aches for a social life while struggling with her identity as a Slayer, out of the bounds of the rest of the world. Her whole little club of outcasts are even more misunderstood than most angsty teenagers (“Everything’s life and death when you’re 16,” scoffs Buffy’s mother), considering that they face doomsday scenarios they can’t tell anyone about.

Incidentally, it seems that with every episode, more and more students at Sunnydale High learn about the supernatural and then forget about it. After the incident with Luke feeding on half the attendees at the Bronze, for instance, Cordelia and her pals shrug off the whole incident with some line about gangs. And we’re in for seven seasons of this. How long before residents of Sunnydale deduce that something fishy’s going on?

Speaking of metaphors, I can’t help noticing the sexual overtones overtly apparent when vampires appear in the upper-world. All the petting and caressing from the vampires; all the writhing and moaning from their victims: something about this experience is pleasurable for the vampires in ways most snacks are not. It speaks to the characters’ experience, too; on top of being teenagers battling their way through a school situated over a hellmouth, they’ve got to figure out the demons of their sexuality.

Vampires represent the unknown and are thus terrifying, but also curiously tempting – exotic in their power, their mystery, and even their confidence. When erstwhile pal Jesse becomes a vampire (spoiler!), he claims he feels better than he ever did while alive – like “a new man” – and tries to redeem his old loser self by attempting to rape Cordelia. And if you’re looking for proof that enigmatic vampires are sexy, tell me you haven’t undressed Angel with your eyes.

From here on out, Buffy’s world is bound to get more profound, more confusing, more disturbing – but I’ll take it. Bring it on.