The Buffyverse Character Countdown (#1)

#1.

Hero: Buffy Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

"She's a hero, you see. She's not like us." -- Rupert Giles, "The Gift"

Who did you expect to rank here? Willow? Cordelia? Angel? Some random fake-out gag before revealing Buffy as #1? Obviously, Buffy Summers was going to rank as the best hero in the Buffyverse: the universe is freaking named after her! Contrarians might make tepid commentary like “Buffy can sometimes slip into a self-righteous rut” or some other silly justification to put Wesley or Willow or Angel or whomever their favorite character might be into the top spot, but these comments miss the thematic point of the Buffyverse entirely. Yes, Buffy can be self-righteous. Yes, Buffy isn’t always the most interesting character in her series at any given point. Yes, Buffy isn’t even the best acted character in the Buffyverse (subtlety is not one of Sarah Michelle Gellar’s strong suits). However, Buffy is the only character in the Buffyverse who has a complete character arc, no asinine developments or filler, and limitless potential to learn and grow. Buffy Summers is the best of who we can be. She is the quintessential feminist icon of the silver screen – yes, she’s more complex than Ellen Ripley – and one of the best television characters ever written.

As with Angel, describing Buffy’s entire character arc in one blog post is entirely impossible. Furthermore, given that every single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer – even episodes that seemingly are focused on other characters – in some way ties to Buffy’s personal character arc, looking at highlights alone does her a disservice as well. As I see it, the best way to evaluate Buffy’s character is on a series-wide scale. Buffy the Vampire Slayer, broadly speaking, is a series about growing up and accepting the responsibilities of adulthood. Buffy, the vampire slayer, is the one character in the series who undergoes this process completely and truly becomes an adult by the series’s conclusion. While Xander and Willow grow in tandem with Buffy, they never accept nearly the same onus of responsibility as their superheroine best friend. Each season is a new step in the formation of a complete person: acceptance of adulthood’s inevitability, balancing love and obligation, escaping social constraints and one’s own darker side to form a complete self, understanding one’s origins and coming to terms with one’s place in a larger world, designating the line between hope and cynicism and being willing to make sacrifices, learning to cope with and learn from moments of despair, and teaching the lessons we have learned to the next generation. Nor does Buffy’s story end; with the last line of “Chosen” being “What are we going to do now?,” we know that Buffy’s story of vampire slaying and saving the world has only begun. Whether her story will become as dark as that of Wesley or as poignant as that of Cordelia remains to be seen, but, given the qualities Buffy has expressed throughout the series thus far, we have little doubt that she’ll be able to rise above all her challenges.

Buffy would stand out as the greatest hero in the Buffyverse purely on the basis of her personality alone. For she has one crucial ability that no other character in the entire Buffyverse can rival. No, not super strength: empathy. While other characters can often get rapt up within their own desires and be blind to the needs of others, Buffy is the only character in the series who always thinks of others’ first. Unlike Wesley, the other most empathetic character in the series, she does retain a sense of self outside of her empathy, but, when push comes to shove, Buffy is always willing to understand others’ perspectives and assist them when they need her. In the episode, “Earshot,” Buffy discovers just how complex others’ lives are, equally as frustrating as her own even if the consequences aren’t quite as apocalyptic. It is through this lens that she is able to assist others through so many trials. She will judge people when their actions become selfish to the point of harming others, but her first recourse is always to talk someone from off the ledge rather than actively rip him away. She has zero tolerance for soulless vampires, of course, since they cannot act with empathy and lack the essence of goodness required for moral development. She’s a person who must save the prey from irredeemable predators, and she takes up that burden with an authenticity rivalled by few other superheroes.

This is not to say that Buffy does not have flaws: far from it. She is genuinely bad at maintaining romantic relationships, either obsessing herself with romance to the point of abandoning her duty to others, cutting her romantic partners out of her life entirely such that she really doesn’t engage with them on a deeper level, or using her sexual partners as a mechanism of self-destruction. Her moral high-horsing isn’t capable of beating enemies whose violence is fueled by emotion alone. She can even fall into ruts of crippling emotional and financial dependency, leeching off Giles, Willow, and Spike in ways that legitimately harm her heroic standing. However, Buffy differs from all the other characters in the Buffyverse insofar as she rises above those flaws. Much like Angel, Buffy’s arc isn’t linear, but she always comes back from a dip – something that cannot be said for her former vampire boyfriend. Each season finale shows Buffy at a new level of competence and complexity, and she’s all that more admirable a hero for her growth.

That’s not even touching Buffy’s role as a feminist icon. I’ve noted before that she is the best feminist character to hit the small screen, and it’s one I stand by. There are other feminist television characters who are arguably more complex (Utena Tenjou from Revolutionary Girl Utena comes to mind), but none of them combine their complexity and feminism with the same level of relatability as Buffy. Unlike the generic “strong female character” trope, Buffy falters, has elements of pettiness, and possesses many crippling weaknesses that her enemies have exploited on multiple occasions. However, due to the strength of the writing and the willingness for Buffy to take responsibility and act with integrity, she ends up more relatable, and, more importantly, more powerful than other feminist icons. She might have been more shallow than Cordelia prior to the events of the series, but, by the time of the final cut to black, we’ve seen the most mature character in the series come into being. It’s an incredible journey that’s absolutely satisfying.

The only way to truly do Buffy Summers justice is to watch every episode of the show with a critical eye. Every single episode (with only a few exceptions) relates to Buffy’s journey in some way, with the secondary protagonists and antagonists serving as extensions of her mind, heart, spirit, shadow self, id, ego, superego, and antithesis. Pretty much every other character on this list is a part of Buffy the character as much as he or she is a part of Buffy the show. We turn to this show not because it’s philosophical, not because it’s kickass, not because it’s melodramatic, not because it’s fantastical, not because it’s entertaining; though it is certainly all of these things, it is mostly an exercise in empathy and understanding, coming to grips with every facet of a truly complex, competent, and compelling protagonist. It’s a series that deserves to be watched multiple times so its layers can be appreciated… and none more than its titular heroine.

Villain: Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer Seasons 2-6)

"Love isn't brains, children, it's blood - blood screaming inside you to work its will." -- Spike, "Lovers Walk"

As obvious a #1 hero entry as Buffy is, Spike isn’t necessarily the villain one would peg as the best in the series. Sure, most can agree he is the first good Big Bad in the series – a decent enough milestone in and of itself – but that’s not normally enough to secure a villain a place at the top of the evil throne. What gives him the crown? All of his actions during Seasons 4-6. People (especially Spuffy shippers) tend to forget that Spike isn’t a hero until Season Seven. At best, Spike is a morally questionable anti-hero. At worst, he’s the most insidious, manipulative, dangerous, and depraved villain in the entire series. He’s a villain so good at being charismatic, witty, and cool that he honestly dupes the audience into thinking he’s a good guy for three seasons of the show. Spike is the only villain in the entire Buffyverse who changes on a level comparable to the heroes while having his evil nature still hold true. At no point in the series up until Season Seven is he anything other than a cheeky, lustful bastard, and we love him all the more for it. He’s Buffy’s ultimate rival, and it’s fitting that he joins her in the #1 slot.

Once a hopelessly romantic poetaster known as William Pratt, “William the Bloody” had a most pathetic life. Coddled by his mother and rejected by other members of the British genteel class, he found himself at the bottom of the food chain. He would soon become food himself to a hungry Drusilla, but she sired him as her own personal knight. The newly sired Spike went on to sire his terminally ill mother. However, when his mother’s new vampiric form rejected his affections and accused him of incestuous feelings, William turned on her and dusted her. Now freed of his mortal attachments, William fell under the influence of his grandsire, Angelus, who trained him to become a lethal killing machine. Unlike Angelus, though, William’s dreams of idealized romantic love and passionate nature held true to his vampiric form. Giving himself a new working class identity and taking up a new moniker, Spike came to the fray as the second most lethal member of the House of Aurelius. He even outdid his mentors in viciousness by killing two Slayers mono e mono, an unprecedented achievement in vampire history. By the time he arrives in Sunnydale, Spike has broken off from his Aurelian ties to become the most dangerous vampire at large in the entire world.

Spike immediately establishes himself as the best villain in the series by affecting the meta-narrative of the show. In his first appearance, “School Hard,” after serving as little more than a “cool” one-off villain, Spike kills the leader of the Master’s remaining goons, the dour and boring Anointed one, and installs himself as the most dangerous vampire in Sunnydale. With one line, “from now on, we’re going to have a little less and a little more fun,” Spike proclaims to both his new henchmen and the audience that the Buffyverse is about to get a new, more enjoyable dose of evil. And enjoyable Spike is. Unlike the Master, who is content to hide in the shadows and do nothing throughout his entire arc, Spike actively takes action against the Slayer at every turn. In “School Hard,” he infiltrates Sunnydale High and starts picking off parents and teachers as if he were a domestic terrorist. He does so with the glee of Alex DeLarge, cracking jokes and lustily pursuing his prey. It is Spike who best establishes vampires as sexually motivated and predacious creatures, from his cooing towards and doting upon Drusilla to his aping the lines of the Giant from “Jack and the Beanstalk” in an attempt to intimidate Buffy. Throughout the first half of Season Two, he’s an unrelenting force threatening the Slayer. Unfortunately for his villainous standing, he gets immobilized at the halfway point of the season and usurped by Angelus, relegating him to comic relief status… until “Becoming,” in which Spike teams up with the Slayer in order to take Drusilla for himself and bring Angelus down.

This turn is unique to villains in this series, as Spike has fundamentally different ideals than other villains. While most vampires value general gore and mayhem above all else, especially the members of the House of Aurelius, Spike thinks romantic ideals of love are more important. Unfortunately, as a vampire, his vision of love is one-sided and consumptive. Notions such as “personal growth,” “romantic equality,” and “respect for one’s partner” don’t really exist for him. He can hardly understand them, let alone abide by them. Thus, his romantic relationship with Drusilla is very much one of possessor and possession. He gives himself free license to do whatever he wants to Drusilla, including acts of sexual assault. Other vampires might act with sexual desire, but no others stake their identity in it. Thus, when Angelus challenges Spike’s sexual authority over Drusilla, “William the Bloody” doesn’t take it well, to the point that he’s willing to betray his grandsire and his girlfriend in order to get what he wants.

Also, unlike Angelus, who stays down once he’s defeated, Spike has a habit of coming back. In Season Three’s “Lovers Walk,” he pops back in Sunnydale in an attempt to get his groove back after Drusilla dumps him. He abducts Willow and very nearly causes hers, Xander’s, and Cordelia’s death in the process. Then, in Season Four, he briefly takes up Big Bad status once again, discovering the Gem of Amara such that he can attack Buffy and her friends during the day and generally plaguing their progress. Later in the season, however, the Initiative captures Spike and implants a chip into him, preventing him from attacking human beings without undergoing tremendous pain. This leads to plenty of hilarious scenes, as Spike becomes dependent on the Scoobies to supply him with pigs’ blood. He takes up the position of comic relief character throughout much of the season, including some particularly hilarious turns in “Hush” and “Something Blue.” However, it’s crucial to note that just because Spike cannot do bad things, he is not then necessarily a good person. He still lacks a soul and the ability to morally develop, and he’s most definitely still a selfish bastard. Even without the ability to fight, he’s still able to inflict grotesque amounts of pain, even nearly tearing the group apart with emotional manipulation in “Doomed.” His pent-up aggression finally bursts into light when he discovers that he can kill demons, turning against his own kind just to get his violent kicks. The chip in no way improves his behavior or his character, merely stopping him from hurting human beings directly. He even goes on to thwart the chip completely by briefly allying with Adam, almost killing the entire Scooby Gang by spying on them and leading them into a trap. He only manages to get off scot-free because the Scoobies are too tired from beating Adam to bother to punish him.

This brings us to Season Five, wherein Spike’s actions begin to enter the moral grey. After realizing that he has developed feelings for Buffy, Spike begins to act with what appears to be genuine altruism. He’s decent enough to Dawn and openly enthusiastic in his attempts to kill demons alongside Buffy, if only because he thinks he can impress her and earn her affections. Even here, though, his sinister nature holds true. Spike wants Buffy – he doesn’t truly love her in the way a being with a soul can. Much like Drusilla, he views Buffy as a possession, a prize to be won. “Good behavior” is but a means to an end. And even anti-hero Spike can be pushed to his limits. In “Fool for Love,” were it not for news of Joyce developing a brain aneurysm, Spike would have mowed Buffy down with a shotgun in retaliation for her sexually shaming him. Later in the season, Spike grows so impatient with his sexual frustrations that he commissions Warren to build him a sex robot of Buffy, stealing and sexually assaulting Buffy’s spiritual integrity and identity without her consent; it might not be an act of outright rape, but it’s about as close as one can get to such an act. He even goes so far as to trade Drusilla’s life for Buffy’s love, showing just how brittle his consumptive ideal of love is.

However, by the season’s end, Spike does start to pick up on things. By “The Gift,” he does come to the conclusion that Buffy can never truly love him and performs a good number of selfish actions because of it. He saves Dawn’s life multiple times, sacrificing himself in a way that is genuinely selfless, as earning Buffy’s respect means more to him than his own self-preservation. After Buffy’s death during “The Gift,” he even serves as the most competent caretaker to Dawn of the entire Scooby Gang. With nothing left for him to take, good becomes an afterthought. He’s also the only one of the Scooby Gang who is in any way considerate of the costs of Buffy’s resurrection, even serving as her emotional bedrock during the first half of the season. During this time, the viewer is practically seduced into thinking that Spike is a good guy.

This is not the case.

Spike’s good actions during Season Five and the first half of Season Six are purely the result of operant conditioning: a psychological process by which good behaviors are rewarded and bad behaviors punished. The chip is the most literal incarnation of this process, serving as a stick for bad behavior, but far more interesting is the carrot: Buffy herself. Though Buffy might not be fully aware of it, by kissing Spike in “Intervention” and “Once More, with Feeling,” she is rewarding him when he behaves “good.” Spike is thus willing to do whatever he must to keep receiving physical affection. When that conditioning is then applied to unethical behavior, such as Buffy’s relationship with him in Season Six, Spike, much like an animal, gets hooked on the conditioning and can’t move past it. Thus, while Buffy sleeps with Spike in order to destroy herself, Spike sleeps with Buffy in order to reward himself. He’s being rewarded for bad behavior. This new conditioning proves to be far more powerful than his former conditioning, as illustrated plot-wise by his chip no longer limiting him from attacking Buffy. By the end of the season, Spike is hooked onto Buffy as if he were a drug addict, much like Willow. Unlike Willow, however, who has others to help her control her grief and come to grips with her addiction, Spike is a soulless vampire who likes to possess what isn’t his. With that final barrier broken, he performs the single most evil action in the entire Buffyverse: trying to rape Buffy.

Many people hate the episode “Seeing Red.” Some people despise it purely for the death of Tara. Many more hate it for the notion that rape could ever be used as a plot point in a television series whatsoever; why traumatize those viewers who have experienced sexual assault before? I will grant these criticisms one thing without question: the actual rape scene itself is horrifying. With the exception of the episode, “Lonely Souls,” from Twin Peaks, I’m not sure if I’ve seen a more realistic depiction of domestic rape ever put on fictional television; if there is one, I don’t want to see it. However, I do think that the events of “Seeing Red” are a wholly effective and in character development for both characters involved. Season Six has a lot of narrative problems and baggage, and the sheer darkness of the season can sometimes get lost in the whimsy of the amnesia episode and the burger joint episode and the off-Broadway musical episode. The attempted rape scene brings a disturbing clarity to the rest of the season, as we start to see just what the self-destructive tendencies of all the characters have wrought. By keeping the demons within themselves close and refusing to properly confront their problems, Buffy and her friends have surrendered themselves to violent. It is only when Buffy refuses Spike’s affections and stops him from doing the unthinkable that she fully reasserts her place as the Slayer after having practically abandoned that role. She says no. And it is in the bathroom that Spike reverts to what he truly is: a monster who treats love as a thing to be won, a thing to be earned. Love is not earned; it is only ever freely given. The difference between man and beast is the ability to make that distinction and act with integrity, something Spike fundamentally cannot do. His assault is the most extreme version of his character conflict that has been developing over four seasons. It’s only after this, his lowest point, that he’s able to earn a soul for himself, and, even then, the soul is earned for selfish reasons. Spike does eventually become a hero, but not before Season Seven.

Spike is the number one villain in the Buffyverse because of his depth of development as compared to every other villain in the series. Angelus may have had backstory, Lilah may have had psychological complexity, and the Mayor might have had delightful menace, but Spike is the only villain who truly had an arc of his own – one of the most complex in the series alongside Buffy and Wesley. He’s got a hilarious personality and a ridiculous cool factor, but he balances these traits out with genuine terror and a deceptive charm that catches the audience off-guard whenever he sinks to his full depths of depravity. He’s might look like a lustful Billy Idol knock-off (or, inspiration based on the Buffyverse logic), but he’s got enough development to make him many fans’ favorite character. And, though I can never endorse pre-Season Seven Spuffy shipping, I will say that James Marsters has far superior chemistry with Sarah Michelle Gellar than David Boreanaz could have even hoped for. Buffy and Spike are at once perfect romantic foils and ideological rivals to one another: the one being a high-functioning animal who claims to understand everything and the other being a budding adult attempting to adapt to an ever-changing world. Spike is quirky, scary, funny, charming, twisted, manipulative, snide, and deliciously evil: he’s a perfect villain for a nearly perfect show.