Out of My Mind

Transition episode, but at first glance, it looks like one of the "slice of life" metaplot episodes. And it is, beginning the Ben/Glory plot by introducing Ben and setting up the whole Mom has a brain problem--the Big Bad for this season is introduced, but we don't know it yet.

And last season hasn't quite ended: Spike is still dealing with the chip in his head, and Riley is still dealing with the complications caused late doctor's experiments and Riley's relationship with the Initiative. The link between all the slices is physical well-being: Joyce's trip to the hospital, Riley's and Spike's surgeries. At first glance, this episode seems overtly dealing with the physical conditions of life.

But underneath it, a different theme is being explored: love. Riley, who admitted earlier that he knows Buffy doesn't love him like he wishes she does, now admits that he would rather die than lose his superpowers--Buffy is getting stronger all the time, Buffy's history suggests that if he isn't unique, he's going to be history too. Buffy argues this, insisting that she's opened up to him like no one ever before, defining love in terms of emotional connection and trust...which in the next couple episodes we'll see isn't accurate; she tells Spike things she doesn't tell Riley, implying that the emotional connection she has is not as strong with Riley as she claims. Riley knows Buffy well, better than she knows herself. She is not deep and insightful; she de-stresses by killing things. She's an action figure, not a fashion Barbie or a Buddha statue. She may not realize it, but Riley is probably right. She wants to be challenged and tested by her partner; without his augmentation, he is Clark Kent, not Superman. Even though Buffy would hate to admit it, Riley at that point becomes someone she protects, not an equal--he's right that her definition of love includes dynamic that will be missing after he becomes "normal."

Camera to Spike. He wants to become "normal," which for a vampire means able to kill. As long as he can't, Buffy's code of honor won't let her kill him. He's "safe." But he's not, really. Fighting beside Buffy, he's her equal--and the opening tag, where both Spike and Riley interrupt her as she is patrolling, comically makes the point that at the beginning, there is an equality between the three; all are capable warriors, and grudgingly accept that.

The end of the opening tag, just like the end of the closing tag, focus on the counterpoint to Riley's love for Buffy. Riley is the white milk, picket fences Iowa boyfriend. There's passion, but that's not the defining quality of Buffy/Riley. Spike, however--he's all passion. At the beginning, his hate for Buffy, his desire to make her neck his chalice--passion, but negative.

The ending, though--a dream, foreshadowing the next couple seasons--has her coming to kill him (or threatening to, again...), when they kiss as passionately as they are capable of, then Spike declares his love for her. Note, not that he wants her, or any other passion/sex/emotional word. He baldly states he loves her, in the dream, which shocks him awake. The closing image is not that ambiguous: the emotion in the dream was true, and Spike is reeling from admitting it to himself.

Logically, Riley is everything Angel couldn't be--he's the man Buffy could grow old with and have a normal life with, and there could be just enough passion to make life bearable. They have shared values, shared dreams--love, as many people would define it. BUT Spike, he's the passion. Well, so far he's the only one who recognizes it as romantic, but this is the turning point for both Riley's and Spike's relationships with Buffy, even though Buffy never quite figures that out.

OH--and the title? I think it's Spike saying that. He wants the chip out of his head, but he also knows he's out of his mind for loving Buffy. However, it could be taken other ways....still thinking about that.

Restless

Season four ends not with vanquishing Big Bad, but with an artful, experimental show of dream sequences. Much has been written about this episode, and the dvd includes Joss' detailed commentary on the episode--I really don't have much to say that's not been said before, probably by people who have said it better.

In a sense, the Big Bad of season four is as much finding their own identity--their "true names," as comes up in a couple of the dreams. Adam, as the "am I human, or demon, or andriod--and what does that mean anyway" Big Bad they can physically fight is one manifestation of that, but this episode ties up the search in ways that killing Adam doesn't. Willow, Giles and Xander go on dream quests that end in them naming their quandaries or fears: Cool, Quirky Wicca Willow is a disguise, and nerd Willow quails beneath that disguise, fearful of discovery; as hard as Xander searches, he'll never leave his basement, never overcome the taint and heritage of his upbringing; and Giles' crossroads--am I father? watcher? should I move on?--peppers his journey with options, ones he is too stymied to grab.

Then finally, Buffy's dream-journey takes her face to face with the first Slayer, who tells her she cannot have friends, she must only kill. Buffy rejects that, ultimately saving her friends and herself.

Rife with foreshadowing of Dawn's arrival next season, sexual imagery, and commentary on various plot threads (including Joyce's death--and Buffy ignoring when her mom asks for help), it's clear that Tara is integrating herself into their lives, and that Buffy is aware that Riley may become someone she can't be with. According to Whedon's commentary, the odd cheeseman who appears in each dream really is a random motif, just as dreaming includes random imagery.

There's a lot of interesting symbolism in the episode, but honestly--it's been talked about by people who have devoted a whole lot more energy to being insightful than I'm willing to give. Note though that creative camera angles, odd dissolves, unusual depth of field, and frequent use of color and negatives give this an exceedingly dream-like feel, making it clear that Joss' at least this season was going for an artsy auteur approach to his direction.

Graduation Day, Pt 2

Maybe the most significant part about this is that almost everyone "graduates" in some way. (Giles is the exception)

Buffy forces Angel to drink her blood (in a scene that's at least as sensuous as their lovemaking way back), then watches him walk away, leaving her in a heartbreaking "graduation." And she's again embraced her slayerhood, marshaling the forces to fight against the Mayor. Significantly, she doesn't do it alone. As someone (Spike?) will observe in another season, her strength comes from those around her. She's faced the darkness--trying to kill Faith, trying to BE Faith, nearly dying to save Angel--and she's come through stronger than ever.

The flip side of that, Willow and Oz finally consummate their relationship, beginning with a cute dialogue where she's freaking out and wishes he'd show that he's concerned too. In an understated comic moment, they are late to graduation, presumably because they are at it again. Their relationship has graduated to a new level.

Wesley's graduation takes the form of deciding to do the right thing, stay and take orders from Buffy even though she has fired him. His usefulness is questionable, as he is on the ground flailing at the graduation attack, but for someone who has been a tool of the Council, it's a step in the right direction--and possibly causes the self-reflection leading him to become a "rogue demon hunter" at the beginning of Angel. His transformation from tool of the system to morally ambiguous, which heightens as his character develops in Angel , is another thing I want to explore sometime. Basically, he goes from externally driven definitions of "right" to internally driven.

Cordy never says what she's doing next, and it's clear from The Kiss with Wesley that their infatuation has ended. Significantly, she is hanging out with the Scoobies at the end, part of the money shot closing the season and that phase of their lives. We also know she can't go to college and has no resources because of her father's legal/financial trouble. Cordy has graduated from pampered princess to real girl, in a sense.

Xander is perhaps the least obvious one. His role in the last part of the season is understated, and the last two episodes he's lucky to speak if he's in a scene. The writers began the show, 3 years ago, identifying with Xander more strongly than anyone. Look at season one, and even some of season two. The number of Xander-centric plots where notable, and is buffoon traits muted. It feels as if they hadn't quite hit on Xander's EveryMan qualities yet, or his "seeing" ability--in fact, Oz is the one who "sees" at the end of this episode, and makes everyone else see, too. In retrospect, it feels as if that should have been Xander. But Oz was good, too. He's got his Zen Master moments.

So how does Xander graduate? In the graduation battle scene, he's the commander. He has authority, knowledge and judgement. Buffy has the crucial job--getting the Mayor in the school--but Xander controls the battle. For the guy who was reviled as Cordy's boyfriend and marginalized as a social force, that's important. He found his strength there at the end, and even though his character takes a while in season 4 to find his place...well, maybe all of season 4...there's a clear sense of his importance to the team. He's been deliberately taunted, as the Zeppo, by Anya--being the field commander helps redefine his position, somewhat.

The Mayor's speech, which is cut short due to his ascension happening a bit ahead of schedule, follows Whedon's pattern of having the truth spoken by the unexpected character:Cordelia, Anya, the Mayor, Spike...probably more that I will have to watch for. He acknowledges that the kids don't care that this day is the 100th anniversary of Sunnydale, knowing that they have more immediate concerns. He acknowledges that everything will be different after today, as well--dramatic irony, knowing the Mayor's plans, but exceedingly valid for a graduation speech. Just as he chose to attack Buffy in the school cafeteria with the truth about her relationship with Angel, now he confronts the graduates with the truth about their ritual.

Human weakness, by the way, is another theme: the Mayor's feelings for Faith are how Buffy gets to him, which Faith in a dream sequence told Buffy (another human weakness, Faith and Buffy feeling connected despite all the baggage).

And it all ends with a tableau, the Scoobies looking at their high school, taking a moment before this phase of the series--and their fictional lives--change.

Oz: "Guys, take a moment to deal with this. We survived.
Buffy: "It was a hell of a battle."
Oz: "Not the battle. High School. We're taking a moment. And we're done."

Episode 10: Nightmares

Interesting episode, and an idea the writers repeat with variations (The episode "Restless," when all the characters are really asleep and dreaming, and the Halloween episode in season 4, when their fears come to life in the frat house, for instance.) This is the first overtly Jungian episode, even though a devoted Jungian would be having fun from the very beginning!

First, the episode looks as if it's part of the meta-plot, with the Master lecturing the Anointed about fear. That's setting the stage--and implies that the Master set the situation up, maybe? I can't imagine that he has that power, but...it's at least a handy coincidence. Fear is more powerful than any other emotion, the Master teaches. What a person fears tells you about what that person is.

First, the episode isn't dealing with the unconscious. It's clear that the characters know their fears, and they are awake (except Buffy in the opening scene when she dreams about being killed by the Master) The first few fears that come to life are somewhat universal: spiders, for instance. A bit of detective work, however, and Buffy et al discover that spiders have a very specific meaning to the boy who the spiders swarmed.

From there, the fears attack, and no one is exempt. In the deft blending of humor and drama that Whedon excels at, the audience sees Cordy's worst fear: bad hair, bad clothes, and being dragged to be part of the Chess Club. No surprise to the audience there. Cordy is the status queen, and Chess Club...right.

Likewise, Willow's fear of appearing in public transforms her into an opera singer dressed in geisha garb and full makeup--visually humorous, which is how she is dressed through most of the epiosode. (Ironically, Hannigan begged to not have to sing in the Buffy musical in season 6, and in fact has only a couple sung lines, never solo. The fear of singing in public isn't just Willow's!) Willow doesn't want to be noticed, doesn't want to be stared at or talked about. Importantly, she doesn't want to fail, especially publicly--she knows her strengths and doesn't go far outside her zone of competency. Even in "Restless,"a few seasons later, a public performance figures in her nightmare--as Dark Willow, she seeks the spotlight, holding hostages in the Bronze; in "real life" answering in class is the extent of her ability to command attention. In Willow's mind, then, is it evil or bad to be the center of attention? It's an obvious manifestation of her low-self-steem, at least in any non-academic arena.

Xander walks in a classroom unclothed, except for plain colored boxers (which is interesting; considering the shirts he routinely wears, who would have thought he'd wear boring boxers??) It's an Everyman fear, which may just simply be indicative of Xander's essential typicalness as the Everyman of the series. As an attractive, well built male, appearing in boxers wouldn't seem to be that fear-inducing to the character personally, who is willing to play the fool and call attention to himself as shown by his "crazy dancing" at the Bronze. Also, considering that he joins the swim team and wanders around in a little, tight Speedo in anther episode, Xander must not be incredibly physically self-conscious. However, as the series progresses, we find that underlying Xander's happy-go-lucky, goofy extrovert exterior he is embarrassed by his home life and fears turning into his father; later, when Cordelia wants to hurt and embarrass him, she mentions things he's apparently told her about his family. He makes joking references to them, but then he controls the info and frames the emtions; Cordy's public snarkiness exposes him. So perhaps symbolically, the exposure Xander fears isn't physical, but emotional.

Buffy has several fears revealed, with her first being a typical one for children of a divorce. Buffy had already alluded to this fear to Willow, in fact. In this scene, her dad tells her that she caused her parents break up. Typical fear, and neatly resolved at the end of the show when her dad comes to pick her up for a weekend. (However, he does disappear before too long, and Giles becomes a more overt father figure--the scene where Giles and Hank meet is in a sense the changing of the guard)

Another of Buffy's fears is strikingly mirrored in season 6. Being alive while buried and having to fight her way out comes true, although the turning into a vampire part doesn't. Interestingly, when she vamps out, Giles is caught off guard and asks why she never told him she feared being turned. No answer to that, either. But significantly, her fears and Giles intertwine. He sees her tombstone and ruminates about how it means he didn't teach her well enough, guide her well enough, and she paid for it. Their fears foreshadow the emeshed nature of their relationship and his role as her father-figure, and even lead directly to Giles' solo in the musical and his decision to go back to England.

So have I said anything insightful? No, not really. If I were to take the time to research fear and symbolism in more detail, I suspect there's a layer (or two) I haven't seen yet--and I know that as the series progresses, the multi-layer plot development intensifies. Maybe it's time for some Joseph Campbell and Carl Jung as bedtime reading!