Seven Seasons of Buffy: Science Fiction and Fantasy Authors Discuss Their Favorite Television Show (Smart Pop series) (3 page)

W
HAT DOES IT TAKE
to be a shining new star in Hollywood these days?

Well, if you’re female, it helps to be beautiful. An ability to act? Kind of useful. Success may also come with knowing the right people. That much has always been true.

But nowadays another essential trait has been added to the list of starlet requirements.
You gotta be able to kick ass.

Think about it. Can you name any hot new Hollywood sensations who can’t do a leaping decapitation kick? From
La Femme Nikita
and
Charlie’s Angels
to
Witchblade
and
Xena
, the trend has been amazingly consistent. And leading the charge has been the winsome but mighty
Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Oh we still like our heroines to be gorgeous. We’re still terribly sexist. But you have to admit, it’s a more
respectful
sexism. That’s how progress comes, in stages.

Nowhere is this progress better typified than in
Buffy
, with its wonderfully charming mix of the silly and the serious, the assertive and the sweet. Old-fashioned values of love and romance are retained while making it clear that women are no longer willing to be pushed around.

And it goes much deeper than that. For
Buffy
hearkens to the greatest modern movement, though one we hardly ever comment on—the momentous movement to change the way people view authority. A movement that pervades our culture, calling into question the whole issue of conformity and obedience. Unlike any other culture, ours has taken to saying—prove it!

In
Buffy
, an expert or authority figure is judged good or evil by a simple set of standards that have nothing to do with their status or class or birth. Even a vampire can be a good guy. The sole criterion that matters is whether you treat others decently.

Nor is Buffy alone pushing this message. Take
Xena
and
Hercules
, two fairly lowbrow popular television series in which authority figures were portrayed as evil in direct proportion to their rudeness or callousness toward commonfolk. Xena might rescue an exiled king from invaders and restore his throne, but only if he treats people nicely and promises to set up a democratically elected city council. Any time someone is abused by an Olympian, that ‘god’ is sure to face dire punishment from our heroine!

Yes indeed, Buffy ain’t alone. She’s leading an important movement. Our myths are the way we prepare our minds to think and our wills to act. And her stories are right up there, promoting individualism, tolerance, eccentricity, openness, and suspicion of anything that reeks of snooty superiority.

Ah, but she has her work cut out for her. The will toward worshipping Olympians and demigods still roils within us. After all, we spent thousands of years in feudal settings that were totally undemocratic.
Social structures were pyramid-shaped, with a narrow elite dominating ignorant masses. Starting with Homer’s
Iliad
and
Gilgamesh
, nearly all of the bards and storytellers worked for the chiefs, aristocrats, and kings who owned all the marbles.

In his famous book about
The Hero’s Journey
, Joseph Campbell spoke lovingly about the positive aesthetic elements of these old myths . . . without even once mentioning their dark side, like the deep assumption that humans come in neatly packaged social castes. That secrecy and mystery are more important than cooperation and skill. The surrounding society doesn’t matter. Neither does daily life.

None of this is true of Buffy, who values daily life and the vibrant society around her. What does she need after a stint of saving the world? A bath and then a trip to the mall! She’s normal and likes it. Well . . . all right, maybe above average. All right, she’s
way
above average! But she also likes being one of us. That matters.

Older stories played a different tune—that lords and “better” folk had a right to exercise capricious power at whim. You could choose which demigod to root for—say, Achilles or Hector. But there was no disputing the super hero’s ultimate right to deal with mortals however he wished. Small wonder this pattern crossed nearly all cultures and eras. After all, the chiefs and kings were the ones who had all the cash and beer. Storytellers needed patrons. They cozied up to the mighty whenever they could.

You don’t think people preach that message anymore? Look closer! Today you see it exemplified in highly popular epics like the
Star Wars
saga and
Lord of the Rings.
Oh, sure, in those tales the “good guys” are prettier than the villains. The towering lords and secret cultmasters on one side utter nicer phrases than the “evil” secret masters do on the other side. What the secret masters on both sides have in common is that they are snooty, bossy, mysterious, and oh so superior.

Look at them with open eyes. With
Buffy
’s eyes. Nearly all the pivotal characters in old-fashioned stories are born profoundly superior to those around them . . . not just a little smarter, but indisputably and qualitatively greater than mere mortals. Moreover, the distinction is not earned by hard work or skill or give-and-take. The justification for power is inherited genetic supremacy. Whole classes of people (or aliens or orcs) can be annihilated because they are members of a group.

It seems a pity that all fantasy stories get jumbled together, often sharing the same eager fans. They shouldn’t be. Because the deep moral lesson of
Buffy
is the opposite of
Star Wars
. It has nothing at all to do
with feudal legends or
Lord of the Rings
. . . or even
Dracula
, with its gloomy maunderings about futility and the past. Go ahead, picture Buffy in those tales. She’d knock those epics off their carefully laid rails with the very first irreverent, questioning words out of her mouth.

Kings and wizards may seem romantic, but they had 6,000 years to deliver human happiness, and all they ever did was push us around like vampires. And Buffy doesn’t take it! Notice the episodes set in the past. The Slayer is never one to accept a brat’s authority, just because his dad wore a crown.

If this were 1776, she’d hack off her hair and join the Continental Army. If it were 1850, she’d be liberating slaves via the Underground Railroad. I can picture Buffy as a suffragette, or helping the French Resistance, tossing Nazis like kindling in order to free their prisoners.

Those jobs were already done by her aunts (and some uncles). So? This is a new millennium. Time for the next task. Go girl!

Buffy is our future. Brash, open-minded, open-hearted. Always willing to give someone a chance, even if they’re low-born, or even (ew!) ugly. Always questioning authority while willing to cooperate and learn something new. To Buffy, old isn’t always better (as it is in
Star Wars
and Tolkien). She’s stylish, hip, caring, sweet, and nowhere near as dumb as outsiders might think.

Oh, she knows what she’s doing, all right. We oughta listen.

Anyway, she sure can kick butt.