Turning to Buffy: Leadership, the Big Bad, and Season Seven
I’ve adopted the ritual of watching a season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer every year around this time. Curling up with 20 hours of the Scoobies is cathartic and inspiring during the midwinter. I usually choose Season Three, and occasionally Seasons Two or Five. This year, though, I was overwhelmed by the need to watch Season Seven.
Suprising, to say the least, because it’s not the strongest of seasons. In fact, its shortcomings are alarming obvious: plot holes, an omniscient First Evil who gets un-omniscient at convenient times, Caleb the evil preacher who leads Buffy to the ultimate Slayer weapon, and Kennedy. (Kennedy! Could the writers have picked a less satisfying way to help Willow overcome her grief? Blarg.) I always appreciated the challenge of wrapping up Buffy, and I enjoyed a lot about this final television season, but I never really had the desire to re-visit it. Until this Winter. Because Season Seven is all about becoming a leader in the face of incredible odds. If that isn’t just what this Winter calls for, I don’t know what is.
When I watched Season Seven this time around, I was struck by how much it accomplished, including:
Dawn. Dawn comes into her own in Season Seven. No longer just an annoying little sister/plot contrivance, Dawn finds her place among the Scoobies – and it’s an important one. It’s really moving to see how she and Buffy grow as sisters, friends, and teammates. Also, Xander’s speech to Dawn about how extraordinary she is in the episode “Potential” is among my favorites of the season.
Anya comes to terms with her ambivalence about humanity and faces accountability for her past. Whedon takes Anya’s character in a really interesting direction in this season, and it’s fitting that she sticks around for the big battle (and not surprising – although pretty darn sad – when she doesn’t live through it). (Also, how awesome is it that Andrew chooses to tell a story to Xander about Anya’s death at the end of the show? It’s a nice moment for him to wield his chief power.)
Buffy and cookie dough. It’s the speech we waited seven seasons to hear. To see Buffy reflect – playfully – with Angel about her independence, her relationship to Spike, and her need for space and time from all manner of men and demons, is both a triumph and a relief.
Changing the Slayer rules. No surprise here, but I found Buffy’s analysis of the whole Slayer legacy as a bunch of rules set up by men to harness and control women’s power to be gratifying. I like that she changes the rules! However, I was not at all impressed with the introduction of the female guardians at the end of the season. They came out of nowhere, made about a 1 minute blip on the show, and were promptly dispatched. Wha?
(Tangentially, I f ound it interesting how this season deals with Spike’s attempt to sexually assault Buffy in Season Six. His remorse in Season Seven is repeatedly expressed as beyond words, and the clear equivalence between that act of violence and not having a soul has the effect of equating rape with evil. It’s a thoughtful, although not quite satisfying, way to close on that issue. But what, exactly, is the right way to hold Spike accountable, especially since he and Buffy have such an intense, powerful, and intimate relationship? I appreciate the care the writers obviously took with this issue in Season Seven, even if I remain less-than-thrilled that they included sexual assault to ratchet up the emotional stakes of Season Six in the first place. However, it makes sense that Spike has to sacrifice himself in order to be a champion. It’s fitting, even if not quite redemptive.)
All this aside, though, what I’ve come to realize the past couple of days is that I really wanted to watch this season because I’ve been preoccupied with questions of leadership lately. Given the state of national politics, it’s hard not to be preoccupied with thoughts about leadership, how to govern in such hard times, and how to face down all the Big Bads. If there’s one single great accomplishment of Season Seven, it’s that Buffy finally addresses the complexity of being a Slayer leader. She faces so much adversity – uber bad guys, unrest at home and among potential slayers, mixed emotions, teammates with vendettas, a more popular Slayer (Faith), old rules masquerading as untouchable legacy, and advisers who may not be able to give her good advice. Alongside of this is Willow, ostensibly powerful beyond Buffy, who faces her own struggle (it’s too bad that Willow’s journey gets pretty lost in the season, but she does become the lynchpin upon which the face of civilization depends – and it’s crucial that Buffy is willing and able to see a comrade as more powerful than she is). There is so much opportunity for despair, for giving up, and for failing to think creatively in the face of The First. But what does Buffy do? She finds a way. And it’s not at all the way we could have imagined for six seasons. It’s marvelous.
Above and beyond how inspiring this feels in the midst of so much handwringing and analysis about the mistakes our (still new) President has made (and yes, he should take a page from Buffy and FIGHT!) it’s also been a nice way for me to reflect on my own strengths and weaknesses as a leader. I fancy myself as the responsible one too often, and it’s been important for me to learn how to empower my own Scoobies in whatever project I’m working on or with any team I’m working in. Too often, I feel trapped by and resentful of feeling all the weight on my shoulders, but I’ve also always resisted giving up the power of all the responsibility.
Handing it over, finding new ways, sharing the power: thanks, Joss, for the reminder. Especially right now, when fighting back is more important than ever.
