The Evaluation Zone : August 2014

I'm the first to admit that I'm far from an expert on the history of television. I do have a general sense of the small screen's story, what with the rise of sitcoms after I Love Lucy's revolutionary three-point-camera and the rise of dramas with Hill Street Blues's major advancements in writing, but I'm not able to tell someone the name of the most influential episode of thirtysomething or Frasier. I'm not sure I fully understand the politics of television either. What I do sense, though, is a massive disconnect between what I call "TV culture" and "TV counterculture." Namely, TV culture has predominantly championed the sitcom and the drama as the models of premier television; after all, these are the shows championed by network television as the most appealing to the most people. Counterculture has largely been the realm of sci-fi and fantasy; shows like Star Trek and Doctor Who, while adored by their fans, often get a skeptical and polarizing reception from the rest of the viewing public. The two cultures, as one would expect, do not get along. The politics certainly grew heated, especially when the original Star Trek was consigned to the infamous "Friday night death slot" during its third season. It's very rare that a show manages to be recognized within both television's culture and counterculture as a masterpiece.

Leave it to a show about a girl in her late teens killing vampires to bond the two cultures together. Buffy the Vampire Slayer remains an anomaly in the history of the small screen. Aside from being one of few non-literary narratives to follow strong female characters with, well, characters, Buffy the Vampire Slayer transformed itself from a standard monster-of-the-week kids' show into a beloved drama with surprisingly adult subject matter. Certainly, its themes are not as subtle as those of The Wire. Certainly, its atmosphere never equals that of The X-Files. Certainly, its characters are not as multi-faceted as those of The Sopranos. But, rather than excelling in one particular area, Buffy the Vampire Slayer tries to be really good in pretty much all of them. It is a fantasy series that refuses to be a one-trick pony. It very well could have ridden out two seasons purely on its premise, but Joss Whedon turned the show into a dramatic, high octane, and even moving experience. It's one of the first shows, in my mind, to have turned TV counterculture into its mainstream culture. If not for Buffy, I'm certain shows such as Lost and Game of Thrones would not have gained the traction they did.

Thus, in homage to this incredible show, I'm going to count down each of its seven seasons from worst to best. I will try to refrain from revealing major spoilers, but some spoilers are inevitable in a list that covers a series's entire history. I will get very critical at times, so fanpersons beware. But a show of this caliber deserves a full examination. Furthermore, when I discuss the show's failings, I discuss them with the greatest affection possible. I really like this show, but it is not beyond criticism. Besides, by the time we get to the top of the list, I will be finding it difficult to make criticisms at all. Also, I will not be reviewing Seasons 8 and 9, as they are comic-based as opposed to screen-based.

Well, let's waste no time and get to the slaying!

Number 7

Season 1

I'll be open and honest; Season One of Buffy is bad television. Really bad television. There are seasons of Power Rangers that are better developed and more cohesive than Season One of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Granted, it's an entertaining kind of bad, but there's no really getting around it. The first season of Buffy is nearly as bad as the original Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie. Let's see why.

Sweet Jesus, was this episode bad...

Well, to start, most of the episodes are of poor quality. The only two episodes of Season One that I thoroughly enjoyed were "Witch" and "The Puppet Show" - two episodes that subvert horror clichés to their fullest. The others... oof. "Welcome to the Hellmouth" may introduce us to the main characters, but most, if not all of them, come across as caricatures. "Prophecy Girl" is perhaps the most underwhelming season finale of any season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with the climax taking the form of an evil Muppet. While "Angel" is a good episode, compared to the rest of its season, it is still ungodly boring compared to episodes to come. The less we say about "Teacher's Pet" and "I Robot... You Jane," the better. Season One feels like a monster-of-the-week series and nothing more, and unlike Doctor Who and Star Trek, the monster-of-the-week is practically the same each time: it's either a vampire or a demon. And not one of these monsters is particularly interesting.

Hey, if Elton John can pull them off, so can I!

The first season of Buffy is also the most dated. Perhaps it is to be expected, what with the show not really finding its legs yet, but the dialogue of the first six episodes is often groan inducing. There's a writing stye called "Buffyspeak," in which characters fail to use eloquent words to express complex ideas, instead using fake nouns and verbs to try to get across their point. Let's just say the "Buffyspeak" of Season One is just trying to find its legs. Even worse is the music. Much of Season One takes place in a bar/club called the Bronze, in which Joss Whedon seems to hire every bad 90s post-grunge act imaginable. The sheer number of Mazzy Star wannabes this show includes is utterly baffling; while this is a problem that plagues the first three seasons, nowhere is it more prominent than Season One. The action is subpar when compared to the rest of the show, usually consisting of two to three punches, one of which is caught, leading into a throw and then a staking. It barely changes.

Powers of darkness, make my monster grow! Or, is that the wrong show...

Even the villains are disappointing. The Master may have better make-up than pretty much every other vampire in the series, but he's underwhelming otherwise. He just keeps sending his minions, one at a time, to kill Buffy while doing nothing otherwise. He has one truly powerful minion, the Anointed One, but said minion is a plot device so flimsy as to make me wonder why he was included. (He leads the Slayer to the Master and... does nothing?) The only malevolent character I liked in this season was the Master's minion, Darla, for the sole fact that she seemed to enjoy being evil. She gets better in the second season of Buffy's spin-off, Angel, but that's another story. Giving credit where it is due, Darla does well enough in Buffy, but she's not enough to save the entire villainous roster.

Also, she doesn't feel the need to glare all the time.

So, where does Season One work? Buffy the Vampire Slayer, for one. Buffy Summers is one of maybe three or four strong female characters put to screen that have characters beyond "I-need-to-have-an-assertive-personality-because-the-producers-don't-want-the-show-to-be-accused-of-sexism." She has her vulnerabilities, her fears, her strong moments, her shallow moments - just like a real person. She's fundamentally independent, but she falls into states of dependency, usually emotional in nature, in the same way any three-dimensional character does. I've seen a variety of lists claiming Buffy is not the best character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer: I cannot see any basis for such a judgment. Most people call Buffy out for acting in a patronizing manner, occasionally. I ask: would anyone not act patronizing if put in the same situation? Buffy has to prevent the entire world from literally going to Hell; if that's not enough stress to lead one to act in a patronizing manner, I don't know what is. Furthermore, Buffy is the best character in the show if only for the fact the show develops her the most. Buffy the Vampire Slayer never deviates from making Buffy the focus of the audience's attention, always giving her something interesting to do or undergo. I think most people confuse the notion of the "best" character" with that of the "favorite" character. Certainly, Buffy might not be the quirkiest or most likeable character on the show, but she's the one with the most focus, best writing, strongest development, and, dare I say it, best acting. Sarah Michelle Gellar is no Judi Dench, but she does a great job. She gives Buffy a strong, feminist presence rivaled only by Sigourney Weaver in the Aliens franchise; being perfectly honest, I think she's even better than Sigourney Weaver. Buffy herself is the best element of her show, and nowhere is that more clear than Season One.

Did I mention the costumes suck too?

The supporting cast is pretty strong, too. Buffy's Watcher (AKA mentor), Rupert Giles, doesn't merely satisfy the monomyth standards of the mentor figure; he is learning much more from Buffy, from the first outing, than Buffy ever learns from her. He ends up as more of a balance board than anything else, putting a unique spin on the traditional character structure. Buffy's best friends, Willow Rosenberg and Xander Harris, also get some nice development. Throughout most of the season, they serve little purpose other than "the nerd" and "the guy who thinks he's cool but is not," but they do grow endearing as their dialogue gets better. Even Buffy's first love interest, an ensouled vampire named Angel, fares well; personally, I find him a bit too broody, but I can see how others like him. The only real character who is a caricature through and through is the bully, Cordelia Chase. Fortunately for viewers, she does get better in successive seasons, but she's merely annoying in this one.

One final good thing about Season One is its atmosphere. The darkness of the series is palpable from its very first episode. The shadows, the grim settings, the often claustrophobic combat - it all works really well. Even the notion of the show's town, Sunnydale, being set upon a portal to Hell provides a great sense of tension. I often call Season One "Power Rangers with higher production values" purely because of the strength of its atmosphere. Indeed, few seasons of Buffy managed to capture the same dark spirit as Season One, with Seasons Four and Six all but abandoning the eeriness of the first. It's the one thing I always turned to when struggling to get through some of Season One's worst episodes.

At least things got better from here on out...

Number 6

Season 4

With a huge stumble in Season Four. While Season One was bad in an entertaining way, Season Four was bad in a mostly groan-inducing way. There were episodes in Season Four I struggled to sit through. When I say struggled, I mean intentionally distracted myself with an Iphone game.

There's a wall that gives people orgasms. Think about that.

Season One may have had its duds, but the worst episodes of Season Four are by far the worst episodes of the entire series. "Living Conditions" (guys, imagine if everyone who listened to Celine Dion was evil), "Beer Bad" (wherein beer literally turns people into Neanderthals), and <shudder> "Where the Wild Things Are" (seriously, Buffy and her boyfriend have sex throughout the entire episode) - all of these are terrible episodes. Granted, the episodes aren't as consistently bad as those of Season One, but they delve far further into terrible territory. Instead of feeling phoned in and unoriginal, like those bad episodes of Season One, they seem as if they were Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes written by the all-star team of Michael Bay, Edward Wood Jr., and Tommy Wiseau!

Are there any college dramas that don't suck?

The main arc of episodes is also weak. Season Four is the season in which Buffy and her friends go to college; as a result, the show tries to split itself into the "teen-getting-used-to-college" story and the standard "vampires-trying-to-take-over-the-world" story. The tone feels very inconsistent and the show rarely seems focused. During the first three seasons of Buffy, Whedon and co. do a fairly good job of translating the struggles of high school into vampire action. Not so in Season Four; most of the college struggles are either sidelined for sake of the action, or vice versa, in a manner that feels tonally dissonant. Worse, when the writers actually do combine the two struggles, we get episodes like "Beer Bad." Let's be honest, going to college was the worst narrative decision Buffy the Vampire Slayer ever made. Seasons 5 and 6 got much better if only for the fact Buffy no longer went to classes, as the show regained its narrative focus.

Adam, SMASH!!!

The writers also try to pull everything together with the introduction of a government agency called "the Initiative." The Initiative is basically a gesture from the writers that the outside world is not unaware of all the monstrous activity happening in Sunnydale. Yet the actions of the Initiative are ridiculous. Why would a government agency devoted to slaying monsters have a special ops team manned by college students? Why would the agency design its headquarters through secret passageways in the college as opposed to the remains of the high school, especially when the high school located directly above the portal to Hell? Why would an agency devoted to capturing vampires refuse to develop an arsenal of pop-guns firing wooden bullets? Worst of all, why would this agency design a monster made out of various demon parts? Did they honestly expect this monster to be a good person? Have they ever read and/or watched Frankenstein? Also, said Frankenstein's monster, Adam, is the worst Big Bad in Buffy the Vampire Slayer history.

Character or oil painting? I can't tell.

Last, but certainly not least, on the s***-list is Buffy's love interest for the season: Riley Finn. One could not possibly design a more boring character for Buffy to date. The show keeps trying to give us reasons to like Riley (i.e. he's initially supportive, he is a highly trained soldier, he's loyal to a fault), but none of them can surmount the fact Marc Blucas is a terrible actor. The only faces Riley is able to express are "derpy smile," "deep gaze," and the "mildly shouty scowl." His performance leaves the audience asking for so much more. Making matters worse, Riley is the focal point of several ridiculous plot threads tying him to Adam. He's the biggest turn-off in an entire season of turn-offs.

The one time where screaming does solve your problems.

So, with all my complaints about Season Four, why is it higher than Season One? Well, Season Four added three major improvements to Buffy's dynamic. The first comes in the season's strongest episode: "Hush." Often called the second-scariest television episode in history (only behind The X-Files disturbing look at inbreds, "Home"), "Hush" tells the story of a group of demons called the Gentlemen that steal everyone's voices and hearts. The characters must struggle to communicate and battle their foes without the aid of sound. Buffy's quips, a key part of her multi-faceted offensive, are all but useless. "Hush" is easily Buffy at its most atmospheric, featuring an almost Gothic musical score and some truly horrifying monsters. The eerie fashion with which the Gentlemen float above the ground is unsettling, to say the least. "Hush" is the only episode of Buffy to be nominated for an Emmy for Outstanding Writing, and it established a precedent for great episodes to come. "Hush" was the episode that pushed Whedon to create other tonally distinct Buffy stand-alones. Other stand-out episodes like "Conversations with Dead People," "The Body," and, of course, "Once More, With Feeling" owe everything to "Hush."

Did I forget her vendetta against bunnies?

Another welcome addition to the Buffy crew is Anya. A former vengeance demon turned Xander's girlfriend, Anya is upfront and literal about nearly everything. Her absolute lack of social tact adds to an extreme sexual confidence that is both empowering and hilarious. For the next three seasons, Anya would be a regular cast member, and a welcome one at that. Though she debuted in Season Three, Anya really gave it her all in Season Four, and I've got to give her credit. If we had to rank my personal favorite Buffy characters, Anya would be in my top five. She's that good, especially in this season.

The definition of "so bad, it's good."

And then there's Spike. Good God, Spike is the single greatest source of entertainment in Season Four. Spike, one of the main villains of Season Two, comes back in glorious fashion. Originally intent upon burying Buffy and her friends, Spike gets a chip implanted into his brain that prevents him from harming humans. The only way he can satisfy his lust for violence is by turning on his own kind and fighting demons. He turns from a deadly, threatening enemy to a snarky, unwilling, and untrustworthy ally. As in Season Two, Spike is always funny, always compelling, and always entertaining. He's the one character in all of Buffy that never falls short of brilliant. Even Buffy, as fantastic a character as she is, has her moments of pretension and banality. Spike is the perfect package, my favorite character in the show (though not the best). Season Four is the season in which he went from good to great.

Season Four is an inconsistent and unstable season. Its peaks are tremendous, its valleys are perilous. The bad tends to outweigh the good, but it is a net improvement over Season One. Together, the two form Buffy the Vampire Slayer's darkest period (at least in terms of quality). The next entry is a lot better.

Number 5

Season 7

Many fans consider Season Seven to be the weakest season of Buffy. I tend to disagree - its low moments are lightyears ahead of the low points of Seasons One and Four - but many of the criticisms do not go unfounded. After the emotionally-centered Season Six, Buffy the Vampire Slayer tried to end its run with a bang, a climax so massive no other could top it. Though the last few episodes come close to satisfying Whedon and co.'s goal, the rest of the season does feel as if Buffy the Vampire Slayer was on life support. At its best, it ranks up with some of Buffy's top moments. At its worst, it falls into a state of tedium.

Also, bad CGI.

More than any other season, Season Seven is defined by its Big Bad: the First Evil. Briefly introduced in Season Three, the First Evil is pretty much Buffy the Vampire Slayer's version of Satan itself. Now, the concept of Buffy v. Satan sounds pretty cool. But Whedon and co. take the more religious route (saying a lot considering Whedon's clear distaste for fundamentalist religion) and makes the First Evil into a relatively weak being. It can only manifest itself as visions of those who are already deceased, and it is only able to work through disciples and trickery. The problem: it seems that whoever plays the First Evil (pending on the episode) is forced to "act" in an almost complete monotone. Furthermore, while the whole "tricky" evil idea isn't bad in and of itself, it's very difficult for the season finale to build up a sufficient climax. Ultimately, when considering the sheer scale of what happens in the series finale, "Chosen," the First Evil seems like small fry.

"Ms. I'll make a woman out of you...": somehow not as catchy.

The First Evil is more important, however, in that it destroys the entire framework of the Buffy universe. The being practically annihilates the Watchers' Council, the network of mentors that dictates how the "vampire slaying business" ought to be run, forcing every person that might potentially become a vampire slayer to come to Buffy's house. Thus, Buffy's cast of guest stars leaps from about three or four to ten or eleven. Most of these new characters have very little time to develop; indeed, some of them do not develop in the slightest. I wish I could tell you some things about characters like Rona or Amanda, but they are given so little time that I cannot give the slightest amount of information about them.

Because emotional abuse is funny! Right?

The only potential who is given any airtime is the worst of the lot. Kennedy, a self-proclaimed brat who more than lives up to her description, is quite possibly Buffy's worst character. Her only reason for existing is providing a love interest for Willow (who has come out by this point in the series). As far as that is concerned, Kennedy displays no qualities indicative of a supportive girlfriend. She has no real characteristics to speak of other than her self-entitled nature. Worst of all, Kennedy bullies a girl to death and does not receive any negative repercussions because of it. I know bullying wasn't seen as a tremendous issue back in 2003, but I have no issues with applying a modern standard of morality on a previous era. As it stands, Kennedy leads someone to commit suicide and receives zero punishment for it. Buffy's worst character: bar none.

High school acquaintances make good plot devices.

The presence of the First Evil and the potentials turns almost every episode of the final season into a plot thread episode. Thus, the plot tends to get a bit tedious and the episodes a bit less interesting. If one doesn't mind the First Evil, as I do, then most of the episodes fall in the OK category. If, like some others, one hates the First Evil, then Season Seven is pretty weak across the board. Only two episode of the season stand out as truly fantastic: "Conversations with Dead People" and "Selfless." Told in real time, "Conversations with Dead People" breaks down three story lines in which the First threatens Willow, Buffy's house collapses around itself, and Buffy faces down an old acquaintance from school. In "Selfless," Anya, having returned to her job as a vengeance demon, must fight Buffy to the death as a result of one particularly brutal act of revenge. The two episodes manage to stand on their own merits rather than being bogged down by the admittedly convoluted plot elements of the season.

Also, Principal Wood has quite the voice.

The character work of Season Seven is pretty middle-of-the-road as far as Buffy is concerned. One of the main antagonists of Season Six, Andrew, returns as a supporting cast member in the seventh season; he's fairly entertaining, and he is the star of one of the season's better episodes. One of my personal favorite characters is Principal Robin Wood, the son of a former Slayer turned principal of Sunnydale High. His showdown with the vampire who killed his mother is easily one of the season's high points. The dynamic between other characters, such as Xander and Anya, as well as the culmination of the friendship between Xander, Willow, Giles, and Buffy, also works rather well. The character highlight, though, is the culmination of the Buffy-Spike dynamic. Needless to say, the conclusion is the most satisfying portion of the series' finale, "Chosen." I refuse to spoil anything; watch the season to find out.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer ends on a tragic but hopeful note (fortunately devoid of bad pop songs), and one can see why "Chosen" is a fan favorite episode. It's far from the best season finale the show has ever had, but it does satisfy. And, though the season was inconsistent, Season Seven is a fairly noble attempt to tie up every loose end. It tries to end with a bang, and it does so fairly well. Is it perfect? Absolutely not. But it is certainly competent.

NUMBER 4

Season 6

Easily the most polarizing season of Buffy, Season Six draws both praise and contempt pending on which viewer one talks to. It's either a daring emotional drama that alters the Buffy formula for the better, or it's a plotless, disorganized mess that tries to create drama where there's none to be had. Personally, I consider the season a plotless, disorganized, yet daring emotional drama that alters the Buffy formula for an ultimately effective season.

Fortunately, Evanescence hadn't released "Bring Me to Life" yet.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was supposed to end after the climactic finale of Season Five. In order to keep the series going, Whedon and Willow had to, literally, bring Buffy back from the dead (to be fair, Whedon had done so before). This single action has its repercussions, as the entire Buffy universe starts to implode in on itself. Buffy begins to default on her mortgage payments; without a college degree, she is forced to work at a fast food joint (leading to some of the series's very worst episodes). Making matters worse, it turns out that Buffy was untimely torn from Heaven itself; she thus resorts to having sex with Spike in order to make herself feel dirty and perverse, AKA masochism. Spike's own feelings for Buffy, combined with his villainy, lead to the most terrifying scene in Buffy history during the episode, "Seeing Red."

Get used to a lot of this...

Indeed, the sexual cruelty of Season Six is potent. Xander and Anya, easily the most stable source of romance in Buffy's reasonable run, break down into utter chaos. Unlike the other quasi-romances of the season, though, their arc is the least-well handed. The resolution feels rushed and wrong in every sense of the world. Though some might argue this adds to the realism of the situation, I have my hesitations. Let's just say the relationship between Xander and Anya was too strong prior to Season Six for things to turn out the way they do. The relationship between Willow and her girlfriend, Tara, is far better handled. Tara, introduced in Season Four, finally develops some individuality once her relationship with Willow is put through the ringer. The levels of emotional abuse she goes through and ultimately overcomes are astounding. The multi-faceted tragedies of Tara and Willow's relationship rival those of Buffy and Spike, perhaps even surpassing them. It is a harsh world, and no one escapes pain.

For God sakes, man, you could have saved everything!

Yet Season Six does not unfold like a Shakesperean tragedy; it's a season that structurally tears itself apart. The various arcs - be they sexual, domestic, violent, etc. - are not arranged in a way to make them meaningful. They just seem to pop up and vanish into the ether. The season clearly tries to build up to a dramatic emotional conclusion, but the drama is suffocated under the weight of its own pacing. What makes this major failing of Season Six even worse is the very simple solution. Giles, a mainstay of the series for the first five seasons, departs in Season Six, due to Anthony Stuart Head wanting to spend time with his family. Had Giles remained in the series, the audience would have had an anchoring point with which to pull together all the various plot threads. As a result, Season Six could have been much more meaningful.

Dude, do you have some hex?

Most of Season Six's elements are left wanting for more. Each of the plot threads could have received more time, as Season Six does have its fair share of filler. The writing is arguably at its weakest, with the dialogue turning more into dramatic speech after dramatic speech rather than human discourse. The humor of the season is generally lacking, except for one episode (we'll get to it). Most importantly, the character development the season aims for tends to fall flat. Character development in Season Six seems wholly determinate on the events Whedon puts his characters into rather than any personal growth. Sometimes, this works: Anya and Xander do grow throughout the season, as does Buffy. Spike, Willow, and Tara tend to stagnate, despite the various new scenarios into which they are put. It doesn't help that some of the scenarios they enter are particularly moronic (apparently, dark magic is as addictive as crystal meth).

The true faces of evil.

As if to make Season Six even more difficult for me to evaluate, the villains of Season Six are inherently polarizing. The Trio, a group of nerds taken from various points in Buffy's history, is a faction both entertaining in its moment and disturbing in its implication. The three nerds - Warren, Jonathan, and Andrew - are incredibly funny and enjoyable whenever they are on screen. Each of them is a character in his own right. Warren is a sexist jerk, through and through, murdering anyone who gets in his way. Jonathan is experienced yet simultaneously naive; his charm from previous seasons has not diminished. Andrew, a newer addition, is quite possibly the funniest of all three, with the homosexual overtones of his character not going unappreciated. But Whedon's depiction of the Trio presents himself as somewhat hateful of his male audience. How is that? Well, we're going to have to dabble in some feminist criticism.

Nearly every Buffy antagonist can be reconstructed as a patriarchal force trying to suppress the show's female leads. Each represents some element of the patriarchal mystique: The Master - its power via tradition, Adam - its power via testosterone, The First Evil - its power via precedence. The Trio is clearly indicative of the patriarchy's use of intellect to force women to submit to it, as in the middle-aged lawyer marrying a trophy wife in order to satisfy his physical urges while she benefits from the fruits of his knowledge. Yet Whedon's portrayal of the Trio seems to cast most of his male fans as sexist assholes merely for being male and smart. With every other Big Bad, there is some male force of good that uses the same weapon used for destruction to help women (Giles - power via tradition, Riley - power via testosterone, Spike - power via precedence). Unlike every other Big Bad, the Trio lacks a positive male counterpart (Giles isn't in this season). Furthermore, the portrayal ignores the other half of the feminist construction: unlike in prior scenarios, the woman must willingly submit to the intellect of the patriarchy rather than simply being overpowered by it. Certainly, the man is far more in the wrong, but we cannot ignore that some of the blame does fall on the woman for favoring money rather than emotional commitment, equal treatment, or not being treated as a means to an end. The actions of the Trio are such that all women are blameless in the scenario, when the real-life analogue is infinitely more complex than what Whedon presents. The Trio is thematically unsatisfying, and, speaking as a male geek, even somewhat insulting.

Though they do look good when standing in a line...

I don't mean to insult Whedon and his noble intentions; he's clearly trying, and he at least gets 60% of the way there. I hold Whedon in the same esteem when I say "Once More, With Feeling" is an overrated episode. The only series of the episode to be a musical, "Once More, With Feeling" is widely considered to be Buffy's best episode and one of the seminal episodes in television history. I will be fair: "Once More, With Feeling" is ahead of its time and has clearly influenced several shows to come. It is also an interesting plot device to illustrate the various character revelations that have been mounting throughout the first half of the season. Most importantly, it is one of the funniest episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, with the tonal dissonance alone being enough to ensue hours of laughter. But all of these things cannot surmount the fact that most of Whedon's songs are poorly composed. Sure, some songs, namely Spike's and Tara's, are quite nice and even somewhat clever. Others fall flat on their backs due to overly simple structures, while others find themselves bogged down by clichés (if I have to hear another song with the word "fire" in the chorus, I swear to God...). Most of the articulative elements are ripped directly from Rent, and the song structures themselves are Disney-lite. Once again, I really like this episode, but it's got some problems.

My views of Season Six match those of the fans. It's the single season on which I am the most conflicted, as it has so much to offer, yet it manages to botch most of it. It's far more exciting than Season Seven, giving it an edge, but it is still a far cry from the top three. Trust me when I say the quality difference between Season Six and the three best seasons is massive. While my prior assessments have been mixed to negative, the following three entries will receive little but complete praise. As is stands, Season Six is a flawed but important run for Buffy. Its cruelty may be somewhat sporadic, but, when it's at its best, it's damn good.

Also, it's the season in which...

NUMBER 3

Season 5

I was somewhat conflicted when thinking about Season Five. It's not that I hold mixed feelings about it; far from it. I just wasn't sure if Season 5 deserved to be number one or number three. In some regards, it's the most complete and compelling season of the entire series. It's Buffy at its darkest and most immediate, providing both atmosphere and drama at all the right moments. It has, hands down, the best single-episode finale of any Buffy season. The character development of the season is remarkably subtle. The fight choreography is arguably at its most impressive. In the end, only two elements prevented Season Five from topping this list, but we'll get to those after I fawn over all the great things found in Season Five.

Also, kudos on making a clever female villain.

Much like in Season Seven, the Big Bad is one of the huge determining factors behind the season's development. However, instead of us getting the underwhelming First Evil, we get Glory. Glory is the god of a hell dimension that has gotten trapped in the human world and had her power limited. Limited, but not depleted: Glory is the only Big Bad to consistently beat Buffy up singlehandedly. She's self-confident in practically everything she does, and she does not make mistakes. She singlemindedly pursues the object of her desire - a Key that can open a portal back to her hell dimension - with the focus of a heat seeking missile. While not the funniest Big Bad or the most intimidating, she's arguably the most dangerous foe Buffy and co. ever battle. The only real downside to Glory is her alter ego, Ben, a whiny human who is willing to kill the infirm in order to maintain his own sense of self. Much like the Silence of the new Doctor Who, Glory has the ability to make people forget that she and Ben are the same. Unlike in Doctor Who, the idea's not handled all that well. But it's a small flaw in the grand scheme of things. Glory is still the most difficult opponent Buffy has ever had to face head on, and her overall mettle rises on that basis alone.

Glory's presence activates the Murphy's Law of the Buffy universe: everything that can go wrong does. Buffy's relationship with Riley disintegrates in a wash of vampire prostitutes and government mayhem. Spike, despite trying to kill Buffy for three years, suddenly develops feelings for her. He still lacks a soul. Giles ends up taking over a magic shop when he begins to run low on revenue. Glory begins draining various people of their sanity and turning them into her mentally deficient minions. An army of knights devoted to stopping Glory try to kill Buffy due to her sheltering the Key. Worst of all, Buffy's mother develops a brain tumor. The latent tragedy in all these events is palpable throughout the season, and there is always something at stake. Thus, Season Five has the most urgency of practically any season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Honestly one of Buffy the Vampire Slayer's funniest moments.

Despite all these plot threads, Season Five, unlike Season Six, manages to tie them all together quite nicely. This comes primarily from the use of setting and atmosphere to combine narrative threads. Buffy's mom's going to the hospital provides the perfect setting to explore the effect of Glory upon Sunnydale's mentally infirm. The magic shop provides a stable meeting place for Buffy's allies, something lacking in the previous season. The graveyard becomes more than just the primary location of action sequences and exposition dumps; it's an opportunity to expand upon Spike's story. Buffy's home becomes fraught with domestic tension as Buffy's mom copes with her illness. Context is crucial. Since Season Six lacked the appropriate context for most of its events, the story felt disorganized and unfocused. Season Five outclasses it in terms of pacing, coherency, and immediacy.

So... many... feelings.

Season Five is even a triumph in the character department. Season Five showcases Buffy at her most vulnerable. One wouldn't think a Slayer could cry, but enough chaos ensues in Season Five to break Buffy completely. No number of forced exiles, attitude changes, or witty comebacks can stop the misery: Buffy has to face a near-crippling emotional and physical threat in nearly every episode. She only breaks down in one episode, but when she does, it is devastating. Spike's embodiment of "familiarity breeds fondness" throughout the season is both hilarious and compelling. It makes sense that a vampire with Spike's personality could develop beyond being a snarky villain-antihero into a genuine companion. Buffy's rebuffing him throughout the season only makes him more likeable, as he continues to prove to the audience (with one brief but disgusting digression) that he is someone capable of loving without being loved in return. Sure, Buffy may not love him and justly refuses him, but Spike's desperation makes him all the more compelling. The Xander-Anya romance is at its most beautiful in Season Five, with the two engaging in the best romantic banter in the show's history. Indeed, the sheer quality of the Season Five romance makes the conclusion of it in Season Six all the more unsatisfying. Giles provides a strong series anchor. The only character who does little in Season Five is Willow, but I can forgive this considering her considerable presence in Season Six.

Now that's what I call bringing the hammer down...

The episodes of Season Five range from the underwhelming, to the good, to the amazing. At the low end of the spectrum is "Forever," an episode that tries to undermine almost everything that made the preceding episode great. Pretty much every other episode, however, is very good. "I Was Made to Love You" introduces Warren Mears (one of the members of the Trio) in fine form. "Fool for Love" features the best character development for Spike in the whole season. "Crush" brings Drusilla, one of the antagonists of Season Two, back for one of the best confrontations in the series. The two episodes that everyone deservedly remembers are "The Gift" and "The Body." The former is the season finale; being honest, it's an episode so complete it should have been the series' finale, as was intended. The latter... let's just say it's the most emotionally draining experience in all of Buffy.

Only two elements of Season Five are less than optimal. The first is Riley, Buffy's boring as hell (actually, that's a bad comparison; hell is much more interesting than Riley) boyfriend from Season Four. He is no more interesting in this season than he was in the previous one. In fact, he gets even worse, as he transitions from being a kind, accepting boyfriend to being a control freak with a narcissistic complex. "Into the Woods" is one of the cheapest emotional moves in the show's history if only for its revolving around Riley. His departure midway through the season is tremendously appreciated.

And then there's Dawn...

I'm acting...

Dawn is Buffy's sister, a character ret-conned into the show via her presence as the mystical Key which Glory is after. A group of magical monks manages to write her into the show's history; suddenly, all of the characters in the show have artificial memories of Dawn, even if some of these memories clash with the series's established continuity. As a result, Dawn becomes both a living plot device and a plot hole. Her presence de-stablilizes the season and the entire Buffy continuity. Despite the interesting material thrown at Dawn later in the season, she remains exceedingly annoying and distracting in the first few episodes. This is not helped by Michele Trachtenberg, easily the worst actor to portray one of BtVS's main characters (beating out Alyson Hannigan by a country mile). Trachtenberg is a special kind of annoying, carrying herself with an air of petulance that goes beyond mere pre-teenage arrogance and into Crazy Frog levels of annoyance. In some episodes, she even makes Riley seem tolerable by comparison. Though Dawn improves as the season progresses, her weak initial presence ensures Season Five's placement at the bottom of the top three. She is a risk that both fails and succeeds, as her existence, while not gratifying in itself, does end up enhancing the other characters. While I do hate the use of characters as plot devices, Dawn is one of the few instances of this technique being used correctly.

Some consider Season Five to be Buffy's self-contained masterpiece; they might very well be right.

NUMBER TWO

Season 2

I knew from the instant I watched "Chosen" that the battle for my number one spot would come down between Season Two and the top ranked season (which you should be able to deduce if you can count to seven). The prevailing sentiment, as far as the Internet is concerned, is that Season Two is the best season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and it's an assessment with which Joss Whedon himself would probably agree. After all, Season Two is the season that transformed Buffy the Vampire Slayer from a feminist Power Rangers knock-off into one of the most dynamic fantasy dramas of its, or any, era. It's the most emotionally charged season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it is home to, in my opinion, the single best episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it introduced the most new elements to Buffy the Vampire Slayer: it's the season that defines Buffy the Vampire Slayer's identity. In other words, keeping Season Two from the number one spot was pretty damn difficult.

The beginning of a new era... and some great villains to boot.

Season Two of Buffy the Vampire Slayer may open on a weaker note, due to its taking off directly from "Prophecy Girl." Once one gets to "School Hard," though, the viewer is treated to arguably Buffy's most emotionally satisfying arc. With the formal introduction of Spike (as a full-blown villain) and his consort, the utterly insane Drusilla, Buffy the Vampire Slayer finally receives the antagonists it deserves. Spike and Dru offer a relentlessness that Buffy and her comrades are unused to facing, and the group is often put on the ropes. The Buffyverse expands when another Slayer, Kendra, arrives (replete with bad Jamaican accent) to try and defeat the two malevolent vampires. Practically every element of the show improves from the first season, what with slicker fight choreography, more varied settings, wittier dialogue, stronger character development, and timelier pacing.

Also, is it a bad thing that I prefer Angelus?

Even more impressive is the show's subsequent alteration after the episode, "Innocence." In Joss Whedon's personal favorite episode, Angel, Buffy's vampire boyfriend, loses his soul once he has sex with Buffy. This reverts him into an evil vampire called Angelus, a creature so foul as to give Spike and Drusilla a run for their money. An episode taut with betrayal, emotional story-telling, and rich atmosphere, "Innocence" adds an entirely new dynamic to Season Two, making it a story equally about personal betrayal and frayed emotions.

So... many... feelings... again!

The character development of Season Two is quite possibly the best of any Buffy season. Buffy's emotional anguish during Season Two is excruciating; while she's not as vulnerable as she is in Season Five, she certainly feels as if she is out of her league. Not only are her emotions thrown out of sync, but she's also facing three of the most dangerous vampires in the world at the same time. Her managing to endure all the mayhem is a testament to her resilience. Indeed, Season Two showcases why Buffy Summers is an actually strong female character as opposed to the generic Hollywood definition of a strong female character. At points, she does break. She does make mistakes. She does depend on others too much. It is, instead, her capacity to endure that makes her strong. It's not to say that she always makes the right choices - sometimes she buries her pain, making it even worse - but she recognizes something beyond the need of the moment. Thus, Season Two defines Buffy the Vampire Slayer by defining Buffy, the vampire slayer.

This romance is so wrong, but it leads to so many good episodes.

But it's not just Buffy. Everyone receives a great treatment in Season Two. Giles gets his best character development, as his normal British stoicism is put through the wringer. Buffy's mother, Joyce, thankfully learns about her daughter's vampire slaying, finally removing all the moronic alter ego mania of Season One. Willow gets her first romantic interest in Oz, a rock band geek played by Robot Chicken co-creator Seth Green. Xander even manages to date Cordelia, who ends up having more character traits other than cheerleader b****iness. Though many of these relationships are considered comically rather than dramatically, they remain engaging nonetheless. There's an enjoyability in simply watching these characters mature, as they grow into distinct personalities beyond the caricatures of Season One.

"Passion" = perfection.

Everything brilliant about Season Two can be summed up in "Passion," my choice for the best episode of the entire series. Easily the darkest episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Passion" is an episode of shock, elegance, brutality, turmoil, and eeriness. The framing of each shot in "Passion" is completely meaningful, adding extra gravitas to the tremendous plot events that happen within it. It is the first episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to truly deal with loss, and it's a loss made all the more palpable by its subtlety and understatedness. Every character, from the heroes to the villains, is pushed to an emotional limit. It's an episode that forces characters and actors to draw lines and break them all at the same time. No other episode contains as much finality and foreboding as "Passion," and the season finale "Becoming" seems tame by comparison. As much as I love the number one season, nothing within it matches "Passion" in terms of episodic and atmospheric perfection.

Looks intimidating? Think again.

But the rest of the season's heights are really quite phenomenal. Though I think Whedon is wrong when he calls "Innocence" the best episode of Buffy, it is certainly within the top ten. The same applies for Season Two's often overrated season finale, "Becoming" (it's really not as deep as the fans say). One of my favorite episodes is "Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered," as it both manages to subvert the thousands of zombie horror films while also being the funniest single episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (seriously, this episode had me laughing for hours). Other great episodes include "Phases," "School Hard," and "I Only Have Eyes for You": the season is just fantastic.

Come to think of it, I think this is where The Amazing Spiderman
chose the design for The Lizard.

Thus, if there are so many good things about Season Two, why is it not number one? First off, there's enough brilliance in the number one entry itself to warrant its placement. But Season Two suffers most in its bad episodes. Despite Season Two's rather consistent and engaging arc, every so often Season One-style episodes rear their ugly head. While some work ("Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered"), most don't ("Bad Eggs," "Reptile Boy"). Indeed, the bad episodes are made that much worse just by being juxtaposed against the good ones. Did we really need to follow up "Passion" with "Killed by Death"?

Yet this complaint is so minor as to be utterly trivial. I'd love to simply tell viewers to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer from Season Two onward, but Season Two really does gain much more meaning if one already has some connection to the characters. My longing to skip Season One is a testament to the sheer quality of Season Two. It's the season that truly created the Buffy the Vampire Slayer we all know and love. But, if Season Two invented it, then the top entry perfected it.

NUMBER ONE

Season 3

The third season of Buffy is a masterpiece in pretty much every sense of the word. In fact, there's only a single episode of Season Three ("Anne") that is anything less than great. Pretty much everything about the season works to its absolute maximum. The atmosphere is great. The pacing is great. The arc is great. The standalones are great. The character development is great. The villains are great. The fight choreography is great. The emotional heights are great. There was hardly a moment in Season Three that is not outwardly entertaining while simultaneously containing a brilliant subtext. As with Season Five, one could stop watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer after Season Three and be fully satisfied.

There are tons of great shots like this.

More than any other season, Season Three knows how to properly split time between the season's main arc and the stand-alone episodes. And when the season arc is as massive as that of Season Three, one is in for a massive season. Buffy, now a senior in high school, has an uncertain future ahead of her. She's not the most brilliant student, even without Slayer duties on board. Making matters worse, the Watcher Council, the international body dictating Slayer activity, loses faith in Giles and puts a new Watcher at her head, the ever pompous (and hilarious) Wesley Wyndam-Price. At the same time, a new Slayer arrives in town: Faith. Faith is simultaneously everything Buffy is and is not: witty, independent, and headstrong, but selfish, unsympathetic... and totally psychotic. Halfway through the season, Faith kills a human being, snaps completely, and joins forces with the new Big Bad, Sunnydale's corrupt mayor intent upon becoming a demon. AND, Buffy must deal with Angel's return, him having been restored after the events of Season Two. It's an order as tall as that of Season Five, but Season Three manages to surpass Season Five in pretty much every category.

The eyebrows say it all.

For one thing, there are no annoying characters such as Riley and Dawn to get in the way. Indeed, the vast majority of Season Three's new characters are great. Wesley Wyndam-Price is perhaps the most consistently funny character in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as his combination of naïveté and stuffiness is absolutely chuckle-inducing. Furthermore, he's a constant reminder of the Slayer's role in a world of vampire slaying. Season Three is actually the first season to introduce Anya, in one of the best Buffy one-offs ever, "The Wish." Willow's boyfriend, Oz, is developed in fine form throughout Season Three; while he was good throughout Season Two, he finally takes an active role in Season Three. Somehow, despite nearly every story possibility involving him (well, within the context of Buffy the Vampire Slayer) being exhausted in Season Two, Angel manages to remain interesting. Indeed, David Boreanaz's strong presence in Season Three probably cemented the development of Angel parallel to Season Four.

Also, the germaphobe has shrunken heads in his office...

But the villains steal the show completely. Mayor Richard P. Wilkins III is the kind of delightfully evil baddie that only comes around once in a while, a villain who so loves being bad that we can't help but love him for it. What astonishes me most is his nonchalant attitude: he values becoming an evil demon just about as much as he values getting his suit dry-cleaned. Honestly, the Mayor seems like a nice guy who just so happens to be evil rather than vice versa. Faith complements the mayor in all the right ways. Her accidental murder of a human being warps her into a monster: though she acts heartless and uncaring, it's clear that this is merely a mental escape from her own loneliness and guilt. Her refusal to face the consequences of her actions (a big part of one of my personal favorite episodes, "Consequences") creates perhaps the most interesting dichotomy of villainy in the entire show. Yet the Mayor and Faith aren't just entertaining enemies for Buffy to face: they form a cohesive unit in and of themselves. The Mayor is a genuinely supportive father figure to Faith, providing for Faith as well as defending her when worst comes to worst. Certainly, the two are evil, but they demonstrate that evil beings are not incapable of familial love. The villains of Season Three make the entire show that much more fun to watch, as the series gets antagonists deserving of its titanic protagonists.

Also, the fight between Buffy and Faith in the Season Three
finale is pretty much perfect.

Indeed, if there's any reason why Season Three takes the top spot, it's the dynamic interplay between good and evil that is lacking in previous seasons. In Season Five, Buffy has to face a deeply threatening physical wall in Glory. In Season Two, Buffy has to face a deeply threatening emotional wall in Angelus. In Season Three, Buffy has to face down both Faith and the Mayor, two antagonists adept at being both physically and emotionally insurmountable. Faith isn't just a Slayer with fighting skills equal to Buffy's; she's a dark reflection of what Buffy could become, and, in later seasons, what she does become. The two are nearly identical: both are lacking a biological father figure, both are impetuous, both are adept at masking their emotions under snark and dry humor. One, however, is a homicidal maniac, whereas the other is Sunnydale's defender. Faith is a living symbol of what anyone, especially Buffy, could become without the proper support system. What makes this theme of Season Three better than the themes of Season Two is the subtlety; since there is so much action and humor to fill up the run time, it is left to the viewer to do most of the thinking. This is the stuff of art, providing enough material for the viewer to draw his/her own conclusions.

There's so much in this shot that shouldn't work, but does.

Season Three is full of subtle touches. The Mayor, while entertainingly evil in himself, is an almost awe-inspiring symbol for corruptive power. Absolute power can be used not only for extreme evil, such as turning into a giant snake and eating everyone, but also for extreme good, such as lifting a homeless girl out of poverty. Sometimes the greatest evil is hiding behind a smile, but a shred of good can yet be found within the darkest recesses of our minds. The relationship between Buffy and Angel truly does question the value of "forever,"as Angel can never truly support a relationship with a mortal without it collapsing in resentment due to others' aging. And, oddly enough, it takes the perspective of the villainous, yet equally immortal, Mayor to finally reveal the tragic truth. It's in the unified grief of good and evil that the third season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer finds its greatest (well, second-greatest after "Passion") romantic tragedy.

Sadly, suffering is the greatest source of good drama.

There's hardly a bad episode in Season Three. While the opener, "Anne" is somewhat underwhelming, the chaos of the previous season finale warrants the understated beginning. After "Anne," every other episode is a 7/10 or higher. The one-offs - "Band Candy," "The Wish," "Doppelgangland," "The Zeppo," "Earshot," "Amends" - are all fantastic. Most of these one-offs also have small but significant bearings on the seasonal arc; "Revelations," an entertaining standalone featuring an evil Watcher, could be seen as a foreshadowing of what is to happen to Faith. The emotional payoffs are rewarding: as much as I generally dislike sappy episodes like "The Prom," the final speech at the episode's end is genuinely touching. Most important of all, the pacing of Season Three is perfect. The interpolation of the arc between the standalones is absolutely flawless, as one is never left wanting for more plot or more relaxation time. The last few episodes before the finale are nail-biting. Throw in the two-part "Graduation Day," the most exciting and satisfying of all the season finales, and one's got an impeccably designed story.

The only way I could really do Season Three justice is to review every episode shot by shot, joke by joke, character by character, until my material ran dry. It's a season so satisfying that every subsequent season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer simply feels underwhelming. It's the most rewarding experience to be found in Whedon's television catalogue, and perhaps all of fantasy television in general. It's the one season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer that I couldn't possibly try to improve. It's a combination of quality scripting, atmosphere, structure, action, and pathos that TV has rarely seen before and since. Rolling Stone ranked the third season of Buffy as Whedon's magnum opus; as far as I've seen, they're right. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is one of the most important television series in recent history; Season Three is its greatest run.

The Evaluation Zone

Friday, August 15, 2014

An Evaluation Zone Countdown: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Ranking the Seasons