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11.26.2011

Caption Contest

And the week of all weeks continues.
Caption contest for the current header picture. So let's get witty with it, shall we. Ready, set, go.

Kudos to BMack for the idea.

Willow Speaks Gaelic?

“Fear Itself” brings me back to the first episode we watched in class. I distinctly remember hearing the line “ we are defined by things we fear,” in “Nightmares,” and having Janelle tell us we should write it down because it would be important. Well, it’s back. This episode seems like season four’s newer take on that first episode, but it doesn’t seem repetitive for two reasons. First, we have the introduction of new characters Oz and Anya, and second the regulars might as well be entirely different people. So much has changed in the Scooby Gang since they were helping little Billy in season 1. Xander is struggling with odd man out syndrome, Willow has magical powers (and this episode seems to be a platform for many of the issues we later see in our ill-mannered friend), and even Buffy is different. It’s been x number of years, so the characters have grown, though I wouldn’t entirely say they’ve grown up. To me, that is what makes their friendship seem as genuine, or at least as genuine as one based on vampire slaying can. This strain on the group as they grow in different directions is natural. I think that’s the biggest fear I saw in the episode. In their own ways, everybody is afraid of how the group growing apart. It is not until they are all forced together in the frat house that they can overcome this fear

As an aside, did anybody else find Buffy to bit a too whiny for their tastes? She’s got some hardcore daddy issues, that seem to follow her with all the men in her life to date (Angel, Parker, and even Giles in some ways). I found myself wondering for the entire episode how she would confront this problem. In a vain hope that curb stomping the fun sized Gakkkkkkkkkkknarrrrrrr (sp?) would do the trick, I watched the next episode “Beer Bad.” I was disappointed to find her mopey as ever still hung up on Parker, to the point where I had to stop watching. Somebody please tell me she gets over this funk relatively soon, and the pleather returns.



Size DOES Matter... sort of

So it might seem like a silly topic to write about in a blog, but in comparing "Fear, Itself" and Castle of Otranto, I realized these episodes boast two very differently sized villains (although I don't really consider the giant in Otranto to be a villain, so perhaps it's more accurate to say differently sized supernatural elements). So far, the evils we've faced in class have been fairly consistently human sized, but here we come across two extremely different sized antagonists, who are also extremes of each other. So I got to wondering, what does a villain's size say about him/her, if anything?

Buffy and the scoobies laugh at the tiny demon at the end of "Fear, Itself". Still, he terrorizes them throughout the entire episode, despite his size. His powers are greater than those of anyone else in the episode, and Buffy's size advantage over him is the only way he can be defeated in the end. In Otranto, the giant certainly uses his size to his advantage in killing Manfred's heir to the throne and in making an impressive entrance, but when Alfonso was a human and thus average human size (we assume) his line ended and the kingdom was taken over by Manfred's ancestors. A reader or viewer can draw from this that size does make a difference, because in smaller forms villains are more vulnerable. Another example from our texts that supports this, I believe, is Transformations. The dwarf, who is significantly smaller than an average man, is able to win over Guido's lover in Guido's larger form.

But there is at least one instance we've come across so far that I think breaks this mold: Hyde. He is described as smaller than Jekyll, but is far more evil. The image of him as a short, gnarled, stunted man is chilling and makes him seem even more realistic... and as such even terrifying. In the two film interpretations we saw of Hyde, he was a large muscular beast. This image, while perhaps more effective in Hollywood, does not chill and disturb in the same way as the original description. So, while in larger film form Hyde might be capable of more physical damage, in the story he is more effective as a villain and more capable than his larger-than-life counterparts.

"Together they face grand, overblown conflicts against an assortment of monsters both imaginary and rooted in actual myth."


Turn of the Screw was my favorite story we read so far,  and “Normal Again,” which shares it’s ambiguity and instability to an extent—leading clearly to multiple interpretations—is one of my favorite episodes.

In “Normal Again” and “Gingerbread House” Whedon is able to address issues of …normality… that are inherent in—probably intrinsic to—“Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” From the first episode we are asked to suspend a large portion of our disbelief, in this world of the not-usually-well-hidden supernatural that is often unseen by the general populace, even through countless deaths.

In “Gingerbread House”, as we discussed in class, we are shocked to step outside of the Buffy world to inhabit a more normal world, which then becomes the abnormal world (JAS’s words from class, not mine.) The Supernatural is seen and discussed by normal laypeople, who finally react to it as we might expect, which makes for several twistings of the Buffy screw*—even if at the end, in normal Buffy fashion (she does try to dress fashionably… oh wait, wrong use of the word) the laypeople all promptly forget about it.
            *(informally: 1st “Someone with a Soul did this?” 2nd Nope, it’s really a demon without a soul [2.5: Fairy Tales are Real …ish], 3rd but because of that demon, people with souls did as bad/worse as the original crime thought to be done by an en-souled being… and this bit, it seems, is fairly overlooked by the Scooby Gang, just as the “laypeople” overlook the supernatural crimes. Also—what’s the titular gingerbread house, with connotation of being eaten? Perhaps the Buffy reality.)

“Normal Again” is even more insidious.

In “Normal Again” we are presented with two different realities; each relying on the unstable device of hallucination—either “Buffy” is in a mental institution or in Sunnydale, hallucinating she’s in whichever one she’s not. At first, it seems clear that the mental institution is the hallucination, but by the end we are unsure if the last scene depicts Buffy slipping into a final hallucination of the mental institution, or reality which Buffy slips away from—and twisted-ly, this latter seems more logical, at least aesthetically (as unstable of a reason as it is), as the episode ends with this universe.

By bringing criticisms up of the reality of Sunnydale (as was also done in “Gingerbread House” in an in-universe context) in the Mental Institution world, Whedon is able to bring the criticisms into the Sunnydale world by having Buffy voice them. Once brought in to the normal Buffy reality, they are allowed to become and dissipate. Ultimately, as subsequent episodes are in the Sunnydale universe, we as viewers except that that is either the reality of the whole show, or as good as, and thus the only thing left over is the reinforcement of reality brought by addressing the criticisms within the Buffy universe. Ultimately, this is the same effect “Gingerbread House” had, but stronger because the framing of the Mental Institution allows the Buffy universe to remain intact during its reality check examination.
In this way, “Normal Again,” is different than The Turn of the Screw in which we end up with zero or even negative information about what actually happened, because, even though in the single episode we end up with around zero information, in the context of the whole series, it gives us positive information—which seems to be a subtle part of it’s intent— by reinforcing the suspension of disbelief so integral to the series.

Symbolism in "Fear, Itself"

In “Fear Itself”, one of fantastic Halloween-themed episodes of BtVS, our Buffy has been recently dumped by the cruel and unfeeling Parker. Sad Buffy, caught in an existential crisis, feels empty and without a purpose in life in the otherwise happy holiday of Halloween. Obviously, sad Buffy is a recurring theme throughout the Buffy series. Let’s face it, Buffy has a little more angst than other teenagers, it’s no wonder she ended up with High Supreme Angst King, Angel. But my tangent aside, I find it interesting that Joss and the writers used Buffy’s existential crisis to comment on the empty symbolism of not only Halloween, but the college experience, Baudrillard-style. But rather than the ever-optimistic French philosopher, who believed that everything in this world is an empty symbol of something significant rather than anything actually significant, Joss and the writers use the magic of the episode and fear itself to reinstall significance that has become empty to Buffy.

The haunted house stands most obviously as a symbol in the episode. Erected by fraternity brothers (who create symbolic relationships of “brotherhood”) it is full of replicas: fake skeletons, spiders and heads. These decorations stand as cheap imitations of the real and significant: real human remains and real, living insects. When they decide to draw an occult marking on the floor, they draw it for the decorative effect, thus removing significance from an actual symbol. The holiday itself, to the frat bros, is not representative of anything with the occult, but has been replaced in their minds as an excuse to “get laid”.

The Scooby Gang, in their experiences and their costume choice, reinforce this idea of symbolism. Buffy dresses as a Red Riding Hood, an innocent (cheerleader anyone?) with unexpected weapons hiding in her basket. Willow as Joan of Arc, dresses as a symbol of what she is, a witch. Xander, as Bond, sees his costume as the unattainable: coolness and confidence. But what distinguishes the Scooby Gang from the haunted house is their belief in the symbolism. While none of them “become” their costumes as happened in season 1 or 2 (I don’t remember!), they all become corruptions of their costumes. Willow loses control of her magic and it does her in, much as Joan of Arc was done in by her proximity to other-worldly forces (Loaded topic, let’s leave it at that). Buffy, gets victimized by a big-bad much like her costume would suggest. Oz, who dresses as God, an all-powerful being, loses power over his ability to control himself and his werewolfery. The magic within them corrupts the symbolism of their costumes as well as their acceptance of reality, as each of them fall prey to a hallucination…not a actual fear, but a symbol of fear.

When the haunted house becomes real, Halloween evolves from a holiday based on the simulation of fear (controlled, safe environments) to reality of horror. As the house attacks the Scooby Gang, each member must put a name to their own fear, and while they do not actually confront and move past their fears, they accept them, and therefore become cognizant of their own selves. For Buffy, she actually does fight fear (the cute fear demon) and recognizes her fear of abandonment is what has been leaving her empty. When we see the fear demon, and realize that it is all of two inches tall, we realize that the actual fears of the Scooby Gang are in fact exacerbated by their own neurosis. The Buffy at the end of the episode, no longer sad Buffy, is now a fulfilled Buffy—who through the acceptance and confrontation of her fear now is an authentic individual, no longer symbolic of anything but Buffy Summers herself.

Halloween, Buffy and the show therefore gain recognition on their own merit, for being significant only of themselves. Joss’s use of symbolism in the episode, to me, reveals that he sees the show not as a symbol of both the gothic and teen drama traditions but as a significant show in it’s own right.

How many times did I use the word symbol in this post? Honestly, I am too afraid to count.

Happy Giles Appreciation Week! (Buff-iesta!)


Who needs candy when you could have Giles in authentic Mexican garb?


The METAmorphisis of Buffy and that sly fox, Joss Whedon

Season 6 of Buffy has never been my favorite season. She works in a fast food restaurant, every one is super angsty, and the villains aren’t exactly creatures to be feared. They’re nerds. Aren’t we supposed to root for the nerds? At least, that’s what my library of 80’s movies has taught me. So when I watched Normal Again, well, again, I experienced a feeling I have only felt one other time in this class. I felt bamboozled.

Now, everyone remembers that moment in Northanger Abbey discussions when we realized that that saucy little minx Jane Austen had turned us into our own worst enemy and (gasp!) taught us something about how to read a novel. As I had already seen Normal Again, I wasn’t expecting to be so easily duped by Joss and his sly ways. Yet, here I am now, on a Diet Coke high, cursing my naivetee. Let me explain myself.

The episode highlights all I hate about the 6th season. Everything, as the psychologist tells Buffy, is coming apart in both the series and Buffy’s life. Xander and Anya have split, Willow and Tara have split and Dawn, well, Dawn. Nuff said. Buffy is no longer the spritely cheerleader we expect her to be, facing giant supernatural evils with a happy quip and returning home to her mother and a pat on the back from Giles. Instead she faces a sad, lonely, shockingly, well… normal existence. While the doctor and her parents in Buffy’s mental hospital universe (thus forth to be referred to as BMHU) criticize the Buffyverse, pointing out the ridiculousness of the fantastical world, we as the audience are forced to reflect on our own adherence to the fantasy. We too, have given in to the fantastical world, suspended our disbelief so much that when Buffy faces normal problems (The death of her mother, a sister who shoplifts, the end of relationships) we are upset, even angry at how the fantasy has been shattered. And why is that? Because we, like Buffy, now see the supernatural as normal, and the normal as an oddity. The idea of villains who are, like our run-of-the-mill murderers, humans with souls who cannot be so easily and ethically killed, upsets us even more.

So Joss, in his infinite wisdom, has created a season with a very unhappy Buffy. And a very unhappy Becca (notice how I somehow reverted to the royal we in that last paragraph? What was with that? Way too much BBC over break.). But by doing so, he has forced us to take a step back from the supernatural and realize that underneath all the gothic lies the most important element: the human element. In Normal Again, Joss Whedon creates a meta-critique of the series as a whole through the lens of an alternate reality. By causing Buffy to question her own reality and the normalcy of her life, we become advocates for the reality we know: the supernatural gothic, unreal world of the Buffyverse. So my discomfort with the season is the same discomfort of Buffy in a world that does not adhere to the normality of the past 5 seasons. Ergo, I am supposed to feel this way... like I've been spoon-fed the Buffy philosophy without even realizing it.

And that is how Joss and BtVS did me in. What a tricky man. Damn him and his bamboozling.