#9.
Hero: Xander Harris (Buffy the Vampire Slayer Seasons 1-7)
Of all the main four heroes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Xander is initially the most problematic and “least heroic” of the bunch. In the early seasons of Buffy, Xander displays several attitudes towards his peers, especially those that are female, that are highly selfish and entitled. While we come to understand the origins of these attitudes and behaviors, they should not be excused. However, Xander is fundamentally a more interesting and praise-worthy hero than Giles, for, while Giles begins the series as essentially perfect and stays that way throughout the series, Xander eventually attains the level of virtue of his spiritual father figure over the course of several seasons and becomes the hero the Buffyverse deserves. Plus, whenever Xander does screw up, the show does castigate him for his failings. Xander has the best character-centric episodes of any character in either series, and, in each one, he learns from his mistakes. While there are many occasions on which we do not like Xander, his growth makes him interesting. Fran Kuzui, the director of the original (and hokey) Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie, once said that parents should instruct their sons to be like Xanders: they must be ready and willing to learn.
In the beginning of the series, Xander suffers from the
standard high school drama trope of having feelings for an attractive female
friend (Buffy) that does not notice them, or, rather chooses to ignore them
since they are a severe distraction to her own life. However, unlike most
manipulative high school boys in other shows, Xander does the right thing and
actually musters up the nerve to ask Buffy out in the events of “Prophecy Girl.”
Granted, after being rejected by Buffy, Xander makes the extremely selfish and
borderline cruel decision to ask Willow, whom he knows to have a crush on him,
out to the prom as a rebound. This anecdote pretty much sums up Xander’s heroic
arc throughout Buffy’s first three seasons: Xander does something smart, Xander
does something selfish. He’s the wittiest and funniest character in the first
half of the series, yet many of his jokes come at the expense of his peers. He
wants to defend his friends, but he’s often either cowardly or brutish in his
attempts at revenge. He’s noble-minded when it comes to issues of “masculine”
virtue, yet he’s unbearably petty. As a character, he’s extremely frustrating,
right up until the viewer realizes one thing: he’s a high school boy. It’s little wonder that Xander is such an
infuriating male presence in the series; he’s surrounded by people trying to
make him even more sexist, egoistic, and foolish than he already is. Moreover,
when we consider Xander’s home life, it’s a miracle that he’s not even worse
than he is.
Most importantly, whenever Xander’s actions truly do step
over the line, the series does punish
him for his transgressions. In “Teacher’s Pet” and “Incan Mummy Girl,” Xander’s
lust for sex at the expense of others’ character nearly ends up with him
getting killed by a giant praying mantis and an undead princess. In “Bewitched,
Bothered, and Bewildered,” his attempt to cast a love spell on Cordelia in an
act of revenge ends up turning every woman in Sunnydale into a sex-crazed zombie
intent on ripping him to shreds in return for his love. Most importantly, his
inferiority complex and bad grades prevent him from going to college with his
friends, and he has to learn how to be an adult without any of the safety nets
protecting Buffy and Willow. Xander might only be able to learn the hard way,
but the Buffyverse is more than ready to roll out the demerits.
And Xander does
learn. In the fantastic Season Three episode, “The Zeppo,” we get to see the
world through Xander’s eyes, the eyes of the one decidedly “ordinary” member of
the Buffyverse crew. While Buffy, Willow, Giles, and Angel all face off against
an earth-shattering crisis, Xander goes on a personal journey of self-discovery
in his uncle’s souped-up car. Throughout this odyssey, he is emasculated in
every sense, having his life threatened by a cluster of zombies and his
virginity taken away by an uncaring Faith. As much as high school Xander
aspires to be a macho man, his aspirations are all but destroyed by the
episode’s finale. He’ll never be the
kind of hero his friends are. What he can do, however, is put his life on the
line for them and be the one willing to make the personal sacrifice others will
not: he’s everything good about impulsiveness. Plus, by the episode’s conclusion,
he inadvertently saves his friends from being killed by the zombie goons’
scheme to blow up the school using a homemade bomb.
Looking at adult Xander as compared to high school Xander,
the difference is truly jarring. While Xander suffers from somewhat of an
inferiority complex during his first year out from high school, he finds a new
source of motivation and responsibility in Anya, the former demon with whom he
forges a relationship. While they initially have difficulties communicating –
with both of them viewing their relationship in a wholly sexual light – they
eventually forge one of the healthiest relationships in the entire Buffyverse.
In Season Five, after accidentally becoming the thrall of Dracula, no less,
Xander determines to no longer be anyone’s “butt monkey.” One more
character-centric episode and Xander begins to demonstrate his true potential,
not only in the workforce as the leader of a construction site but also in the team
as a reliable source of muscle and as, most shocking of all, an emotional
confidant. In one of the best turns in his entire character arc, Xander
transforms from the most emotionally needy and insecure character in the
entire series to the most emotionally considerate and articulate member of the
team (with perhaps the exception of Tara, but even that’s debatable). He
provides so much stable ground for Anya, Buffy, Willow, and Dawn that it’s
truly remarkable.
Yet Xander isn’t able to purge all of his demons. Despite
proposing to Anya in Season Five, Xander begins to have worries about his
marriage in Season Six. Interference from the demonic Stewart Burns compounds
pre-existing fears such that he leaves Anya at the altar. While I cannot
condone Xander’s inability to properly communicate these fears to Anya
(granted, this is somewhat of a Herculean task given Anya’s difficulty with
understanding complex human emotions), the origins of his fears are
well-grounded. Xander is terrified of
becoming a low-life, neglectful, borderline abusive father just like his own;
given his current career, his lasting inferiority complex, and his extremely
dangerous lifestyle, marriage with Anya could very well have proved harmful if
done straightaway. It is the horrifying hypothetical grounding Xander’s fears
that make his choice to leave Anya behind a heartbreaking one grounded in a
understandable heroic flaw rather than a plot contrivance.
Xander’s separation from Anya also sets the stage for his
greatest act of heroism in the series to play out in full: his saving Dark
Willow from herself, and, through this, the entire world. In the fallout of
Xander’s broken wedding, he very nearly gives into his rage by trying to kill Spike, after the vampire both has sex with Xander's former fiancée and very nearly rapes Buffy. Xander soon realizes, however, that these destructive
impulses are what produce miscommunication and distrust towards him: it's that lack of trust that would turn him into a bastard like his father. The only way he can become truly whole is to
love his friends – especially his best friend, Willow, and his love interest,
Anya – selflessly. And love Xander does: despite Dark Willow’s tearing his face
open and very nearly collapsing his lungs, he walks through her magical attacks
to give Willow the support she desperately needs. This moment is the peak of
Xander’s character arc and is quite possibly my favorite moment in all of
Season Six… and that’s including all of “Once More, with Feeling.”
Villain: Illyria (Angel Season 5)
Illyria holds a truly unique place in the Buffyverse as the only out and out anti-villain featured in the series. She’s definitely not an anti-hero: not only do her intentions never sync up with those of our heroes, but she also serves as a wolf within the ranks of Angel Investigations that no one trusts. Moreover, Illyria’s unique breed of evil derives from the kind of monster she is: a Lovecraftian horror whose powers are beyond comprehension. She’s far older and more powerful than any other villain in the entire Buffyverse. Much like Anya, Illyria must learn how to cope within a limited existence, yet, unlike Anya, her inhumanity and villainy holds true; she’s a monster trapped within a human body, not a monster learning to be human. She introduces an entirely new type of antagonist into the Buffyverse, one whose evil hides behind blue hair and a frozen stare.
As far as villainous introductions are concerned, Illyria’s
got pretty much every other candidate on this list beat: it’s kind of hard to
top slowly and brutally burning one of our most beloved character’s soul into
nothingness and then possessing her corpse. While we might ascribe the death of
Fred to those who permitted it to take place – Gunn, Knox, Dr. Sparrow – the
blame is rightly laid at Illyria the Merciless. In her first appearance,
Illyria tries to track down her ancient army of warriors in order to conquer
the entire planet, taking down every single member of Angel Investigations as
if they were mere dust mites. It’s only when she realizes that her entire army
has been destroyed in her absence that she puts an end to her spree and submits
to Angel Investigations, though, even here, she only agrees to assist them on account of possessing many of Fred’s
memories. She might be willing to help them, but she is in no way accountable to
them or empathetic. As far as Illyria is
concerned, all human affairs – even those involving the fate of the planet –
are insignificant compared to her.
Given Illyria’s powers and scope, those feelings are
justified. Illyria might be absurdly strong, but her greatest power is
her ability to manipulate time. She’s able to slow it down, time shift her body
in order to predict the future and affect the past, and even experience
multiple timelines at once. She claims to have once lived seven lives at once,
and we have good reason to believe her. Existence in a singular timeline – the
result of being trapped in Fred’s body – is a prison to her. When her time
powers start to spiral out of control in “Time Bomb,” she very nearly destroys
Angel and his team. Heck, in one alternate timeline, she does what no other
villain in either series is ever able to accomplish and kills the entire main
cast singlehandedly. Even in “The Wish,” the only other dystopian timeline in
the Buffyverse, Giles managed to survive. Not so for the alternate timeline in
“Time Bomb”: if it weren’t for Angel’s latching onto Illyria’s time stream, the
demon would have wiped out the entire team in one-fell swoop.
The biggest mystery of Illyria is her place in the moral
universe of Angel. On the strict
terms of the character sheet, Illyria exists outside of the scale entirely. She’s a Lovecraftian horror to whom
human morality is meaningless. Whenever she learns of a human moral system, she
then applies it to a calculated yet absurd extreme that does not admit of the
moral nuance of humanity. When she gets a taste of utilitarianism, realizing
that she could make Wesley slightly happy by taking on Fred’s form, she does
so, at the expense of lying to Fred’s family and utterly violating Fred’s image
and memory. She does not commit these sorts of actions out of malice, but she
doe not do so with Anya’s sense of innocence either. It’s clear that Illyria is
a demon who is trying to figure out the rules of the game so that she can
eventually win the day, one who assists Angel Investigations on the occasional
mission purely because they’re the most effective stepping stone to returning
her to power. Whenever they obstruct her goal, she turns on them and very
nearly destroys them. The only things Illyria seems to enjoy in the entire
series are wanton destruction (especially using Spike as her personal punching
bag) and trying to understand Wesley’s broken psyche. She is a being beyond
human morality, yet she’s so averse to the ultimate ends of the heroes that she
cannot possibly be listed among their ranks.
Illyria’s best element is her relationship with Wesley.
Obviously, the relationship is fraught, given that Illyria occupies the dead
body of Wesley’s beloved, but he clings onto Illyria because she is the only
thing left of Fred’s memory. Trying to teach her about the confines of human
morality and the balefulness of living in the human world is as much of a
purpose as he has left, given that pretty much everything else in his life has
been taken from him: his family, his moral center, the only person he ever
truly loved. Illyria, by contrast, treats Wesley as a curiosity first, a
companion second. Though she does form some connection to him by the end of the
series – even avenging his death and wishing to do more violence in the wake of
it – these feelings only emerge because of the lingering memories of Fred
within Illyria; the crying woman cradling Wesley’s body at the end of “Not Fade
Away” isn’t entirely Illyria. As Wesley grapples with his conflicting emotions
towards Illyria, she’s very much a rock, functioning as a metaphor for those
moral struggles that cannot be surmounted. She’s the unanswerable questions of
the universe, the ones in which trying to find an answer only produces more
pain.
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