Sunday, June 27, 2004
Buffy, the Vampire Slayer
Buffy the Vampire Slayer is probably the best-written TV series of the fantastic that's ever been (IMHO, anyway). Since I tend to weight writing quality in art higher than most of my friends, that makes it (almost) my all-time favorite TV series of the fantastic. (I say "almost" because spin-off series Angel is pretty much just as good, though it's got a rather darker and different feel—and because, ultimately, my heart belongs to Space: 1999.)
Despite this, I've never seen an episode of Buffy on broadcast TV; friends of ours pushed the first season DVD boxed set on us, and said, "Watch this!". Then other friends pushed the second season DVD boxed set on us ;-). When we finally got around to watching the first season, I was impressed; the second season pretty much made me a lifelong fan. The writers of the series took a well-liked character (and well-liked relationship) and decided they needed to take a huge gamble—and it paid off spectacularly, with repercussions still felt years later. (Indeed, I suspect the repercussions will be felt until the end of Buffy, but we haven't seen past the first third of Season Six ;-).
What makes Buffy (and Angel) so special? Well, the writing ;-). If you've grown up on television, as most members of my generation did, you'll have grown up with certain storytelling conventions and clichés. Buffy is the product of Joss Whedon, who "could arguably be the world's first third-generation television writer" (to quote the IMDB biography of Joss Whedon). Joss is very aware of these storytelling clichés and delights in subverting them at every turn. The very first scene of the very first Buffy episode is a horror-movie cliché—until it turns on its head.
One of the reasons I don't watch TV any more is that most modern TV shows are stunningly predictable; it feels like most TV writers just stack the conventions and clichés together to fill air time. It often felt like you can see the first few minutes of, say, Star Trek: Voyager, and trivially predict the rest of the episode. (Or you can watch the last few minutes and know the 40 minutes that came before.) Even worse, sometimes my stupid predictions are better than what the show ends up using. I have far more interesting things to do with my time.
Buffy and Angel aren't like this at all—most episodes have plenty of twists and turns, and it's hard to predict what will happen in the next few minutes, let alone for the rest of the episode. But after you've seen all the twists and surprises, you realize that they make perfect sense—and are far better than the standard clichés, and are better than what you could have come up with on your own. This, for me, is the essence of good writing.
Despite this, I've never seen an episode of Buffy on broadcast TV; friends of ours pushed the first season DVD boxed set on us, and said, "Watch this!". Then other friends pushed the second season DVD boxed set on us ;-). When we finally got around to watching the first season, I was impressed; the second season pretty much made me a lifelong fan. The writers of the series took a well-liked character (and well-liked relationship) and decided they needed to take a huge gamble—and it paid off spectacularly, with repercussions still felt years later. (Indeed, I suspect the repercussions will be felt until the end of Buffy, but we haven't seen past the first third of Season Six ;-).
What makes Buffy (and Angel) so special? Well, the writing ;-). If you've grown up on television, as most members of my generation did, you'll have grown up with certain storytelling conventions and clichés. Buffy is the product of Joss Whedon, who "could arguably be the world's first third-generation television writer" (to quote the IMDB biography of Joss Whedon). Joss is very aware of these storytelling clichés and delights in subverting them at every turn. The very first scene of the very first Buffy episode is a horror-movie cliché—until it turns on its head.
One of the reasons I don't watch TV any more is that most modern TV shows are stunningly predictable; it feels like most TV writers just stack the conventions and clichés together to fill air time. It often felt like you can see the first few minutes of, say, Star Trek: Voyager, and trivially predict the rest of the episode. (Or you can watch the last few minutes and know the 40 minutes that came before.) Even worse, sometimes my stupid predictions are better than what the show ends up using. I have far more interesting things to do with my time.
Buffy and Angel aren't like this at all—most episodes have plenty of twists and turns, and it's hard to predict what will happen in the next few minutes, let alone for the rest of the episode. But after you've seen all the twists and surprises, you realize that they make perfect sense—and are far better than the standard clichés, and are better than what you could have come up with on your own. This, for me, is the essence of good writing.
