Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 7

Contains spoilers

After the doom and gloom of Buffy season 6, the beginning of season 7 comes as quite a relief. We go right back to the beginning with the opening of a brand-new Sunnydale High School building on the site of the old one, which was destroyed at the end of season 3. You'd think the powers that be would take the opportunity to find a new, safer site for their teenagers to attend school, but no, apparently not. Buffy takes a job as student counsellor, and Xander is on-site too, finishing off the building work. Only Willow is absent, staying in England with Giles attending some kind of Dark Magic Anonymous group.

The relief and nostalgia factor meant that for a while I overlooked some of the sloppiness of the storytelling. Most notably, we are told rather than shown that the apocalypse to end all apocalypses is on its way. An ominous voice tells everyone, "From beneath you, it devours," whatever that means. Sounds scary enough, but weird and terrifying occurrences are part of Sunnydale's local identity. We've established that. Yet Buffy and the Scoobies quickly conclude that this time the end really is near, and we know they're probably right for the sole reason that this is the final season and therefore deserves an epic finale.

Season 7's main villain is the ultimate in Big Bads, a being that calls itself "The First," and has no form of its own, but takes the shape of whichever dead person is most likely to freak out its audience the most, manipulating people with their individual weaknesses. Buffy is the First's favourite form - she may not be dead now, but she has been dead and therefore counts. It even implies at one point that it takes more than the appearance from those it imitates. Could Buffy herself be a part of the First?

This aspect of the First led to what I think was the season's biggest misstep. At the end of one episode, we see Giles swiftly attacked by one of the First's henchpeople, and the screen cuts to black. This incident is not mentioned again for about four or five episodes, and when Giles appeared afterwards, I spent most of my concentration trying to prove that he was dead, and that the First was taking his form. It turned out to be a red herring, and instead of feeling impressed that the writers had outsmarted me, I just felt cheated. They didn't outsmart me - they merely said, "Haha, no, tricked you," without any better explanation. This might have worked if it took place over a single episode, but over four or five, it merely distracted me from everything else that was going on. (Not that I wanted Giles to be dead, of course.)

Although season 7 had some great ideas, it didn't hook me as much as the rest of the series. I don't know if this was because I'd taken a couple of weeks' break from Buffy before starting the final season, or because the storytelling just didn't come together as well as it should. The central characters seemed to take a back seat, too. Willow, Xander, Anya and Dawn all had their moments in the spotlight, but I felt like the writers had grown tired of them, instead concentrating on Spike's search for redemption, the Potential Slayers (though as a plot device more than a new team of rounded characters) and Buffy as the lone general in the big war against the ultimate evil. It seems inevitable for every fantasy story to end in a big war to end all wars, notably Harry Potter, with which I drew many parallels throughout the run of Buffy. 

But how can one fight an incorporeal being? The answer is to bring in an army of "ubervamps" which reminded me so much of the orcs in Lord of the Rings, and a human villain called Caleb, played by Nathan Fillion from Firefly. Caleb really made my skin crawl with his smiling hate-speech (but I am so tired of the "sinister minister" trope. It's never the butler who dunnit, but if there is a priest or a vicar, nine times out of ten they are the bad guy.) Caleb establishes his role as a real threat by inflicting the most serious, lasting damage on one of our heroes -squishing Xander's eye, eurrrrgh! - and when this group includes someone who has died not once but twice, that's saying something.

I grumbled a lot about season 7, even up to the penultimate episode, but the finale is as epic as you could hope for. My chief problem when I started watching Buffy was "WHY is there only one slayer? One chosen one - chosen by whom? Why should one person have to take on all this responsibility alone?" Finally, after seven seasons, this question is addressed and challenged, and Buffy decides enough is enough. So a bunch of men decided there should be one slayer thousands of years ago. Today, the slayer makes her own decision: “From now on, every girl in the world who might be a slayer will be a slayer." And it is awesome.

This being Joss Whedon, two main characters die in the final showdown: One suddenly, in battle (Anya) and the other, Spike, is killed by a Necklace of Heroic Sacrifice, taking out not only all of the bad guys, but the entire town of Sunnydale! Wow. Thankfully the town had been evacuated earlier, as the years of weird activity finally got too much for the residents. Well, that's certainly not doing things by halves. Our battle-scarred and weary heroes look back at the smoking crater that had been their hometown, and realise that finally, it's over. The weight of the world is no longer on Buffy's shoulders alone (with a few friends to share the load.) She can do anything.

"What are we going to do now?"

Best Episodes:

3. Same Time, Same Place. Willow returns from England, but she and her friends seem to exist in parallel dimensions, not seeing each other despite being in the same place at the same time. However, this episode also features the most horrifying monster of the week ever, Gnarl.
7. Conversations with Dead People. A really terrifying episode. The First appears to the Scoobies in different forms, and messes with their minds.
16. Storyteller. Whatsisname, the other one from the Trio, now living among the Scoobies and the potential slayers, makes up his own version of everything that's happened. A mostly comic episode which takes an unexpected emotion turn when he is forced to face reality.
22. Chosen. Buffy's had its highs and lows, and ends on an epic finale that really does it justice.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 6

Contains Spoilers

After the emotional turmoil of season five, with the mystery of Dawn's existence, the illness and death of Joyce Summers, the unbeatable villain, and finally Buffy's own death, I thought that season six would be a relief. Buffy would come back, and yes, I had been spoiled on the fact that she "came back wrong," so maybe she'd be a little bit out of control, maybe a bit slay-happy like Faith. I WAS SO WRONG!

I've been observing for seasons that Willow has been getting in too deep with the magic pretty much since she started dabbling in it, and her desperation to bring back her friend gets her doing some very dark spells indeed. The ritual which brings Buffy back to life is horrifying, and is interrupted, leaving us wondering how far it's worked. (And they manage to bring her back to life but are chased away from her grave leaving her to dig herself out - UGH NO!)

No wonder Buffy is traumatised! Who wouldn't be, after her experiences? But as much as Willow wants her friend back, she wants reassurance that she's done the right thing, and Buffy does not give it, because little does Willow know that Buffy had been happy where she was. She had fought a hard battle in the last season, and had found peace, only to be dragged back to a difficult, violent world by those who loved her best. And she can't tell them why she's not okay with being alive again, because the truth would destroy them.

It's not only Buffy who is keeping secrets in season six, and here's where the famous musical episode "Once More With Feeling" comes in. Oh, I have been hearing about this episode ever since it first aired; the one that set the standard for every other series and sitcom. It was all everyone talked about at school the next day, and at Christmas I saw a couple of clips on one of those rubbishy "top ten musicals" countdown shows, which must have been made about ten years ago. The bits I remembered being shown did not do the episode justice AT ALL, bits of songs like "I've got a theory," (fun, but that's it) "What can't we face when we're together?" (which makes it sound all mushy and completely missells the tone of the episode) and "Where do we go from here?" (which is a lot less poignant without context.) There is an amazing mixture of musical styles, each suiting the characters. Buffy gets the big musical numbers, Tara sings a romantic ballad, Spike gets an angry rocky number and Giles performs a very Gilesish acoustic ballad, while Xander and his fiancee Anya have a comic duet with some troubling lyrics. I had expected a cheesy, fun, gimmicky episode, to lighten the mood and take a break from the main season's plotlines, but instead "Once More With Feeling" is the catalyst for all the cats to be let out of the bags. Tara discovers the extent of Willow's magic, Anya and Xander discover each other's reservations about their forthcoming marriage, and everyone learns what really happened to Buffy after she died. Giles decides that he's getting in the way of Buffy learning to stand on her feet again, and flies back to England. Also Spike and Buffy kiss for the first time.

I think it was inevitable that Spike and Buffy would get together at some point, but I didn't want to see it. I loved the chemistry he had with Buffy, and enjoyed their scenes together, but a relationship, if you can call what happens between them that, was never going to work out. This season shows a very damaged dynamic between the characters, and one I found very difficult to watch. This is a relationship of desperation, one that is unbalanced, violent and loveless. I think what Spike calls "love" is more like obsession. I've liked Spike as a villain, a frustrated would-be monster, and then as a lovesick puppy. I love a morally ambiguous character, a villain with a soft side or an anti-hero, but the ambiguity is dashed away after he assaults Buffy in her bathroom. It was a horrible conclusion to a nasty relationship, and I couldn't care about Spike's story after that. He crossed the line and I can't see how there is any coming back from that. I didn't think the story was handled very well: the writers dwelled more on how the attack affected the perpetrator than the victim, and Buffy's story galloped away from the incident without a backward glance. In a world of vampires, robot girlfriends, invisibility rays and beer that turns its drinkers into cavepeople, the only time I've really said "nope, this would never ever happen" was when Buffy decided to entrust her little sister to the care of her would-be rapist. A serious misstep there, I felt.

In season six, Willow really does get in too deep with her magic. It's been hinted at for seasons, and I guessed that sooner or later she would turn to the dark side. I anticipated Evil Willow, but what I got instead was Mean Willow, whose magic became an addiction, and she turned on everyone who tried to help her to see she was in trouble. Willow is my favourite character, but for about half a season I started to dislike her immensely: she kept making the same mistakes over and over, not learning from them, and crying when she had to deal with the consequences of getting caught. It took endangering Dawn's life to get her to realise the error of her ways, and even when she turned her back on witchcraft, I suspected it was only suppressed, not gone for good.

The Scooby gang have come up against all sorts of Big Bads in the past five seasons: vampires, of course, a Frankenstein's Monster, and in the last season even a god, but in season six their "archnemesis...es" are a trio of nerdy students: Warren (creator of the Buffybot) Jonathan (he of "Superstar" fame) and... some other guy. They fancy themselves as comic-book supervillains, the Sunnydale branch of the Evil League of Evil, but basically they are just clueless jerks, stereotypes of geeks. I viewed them with contempt, and they grew more repulsive with each episode - especially Warren, who represented a purely human form of evil. Still I did not expect him to be a serious threat... until the words "he won't be much good without his friends," were spoken, after Jonathan and The Other Guy were carted off to jail. Oh dear. You mustn't say things like that. A couple of minutes before the end of an episode, that line had a ring of Famous Last Words to it, but I didn't realise quite how "last" those words were, before Warren shows up with a gun...

I have been grumbling for a couple of seasons that Willow's girlfriend Tara never showed up in the opening credits montage, but was always relegated to "guest star," the only member of the Scooby gang to fill that role. Finally, after making up with Willow, she is welcomed back into the fold, with an appearance of her own in the credits, and I celebrated. For forty minutes. 

BEFORE SHE DIED!

It came from nowhere. Warren appeared, fired a gun in the direction of Xander and Buffy who ducked out of the way. I thought for a moment that Xander would be hurt, or killed. Buffy was wounded. Then cut to Willow, upstairs, with a spray of blood splattered across her clean white shirt... and Tara falls down, dead. I stared at the screen in horror and made several incoherent wounded animal noises. I should have been prepared for this. It is Joss Whedon, after all. How does he manage to get me every time?

Oh Tara! You were not a forceful character, but you were so lovely and sweet and rounded and human, and gradually weasled your way into my affections until without my realising it, you became my favourite character. What will Buffy be without you?

Well, the last three episodes give a pretty dark indication of that, and in the aftermath of her girlfriend's death, we get to see the real Big Bad of season six: Evil Willow. THIS was kind of where I expected her magic storyline to go, though I never dreamed it would be triggered by such an awful, senseless, tragedy. Welcome, Evil Willow, an awesome villain, in a very disturbing way. Willow is ordinarily so sweet, but we've seen glimpses of her inner darkness, and now it takes over as she goes on a rampage of revenge after Warren. Awesome fades to horrifying, after she reprises the line of her vampire doppelganger of many seasons ago: "Bored now," and dispatches Warren in the most gruesome way imaginable.

It seems that no one can stop Willow now.

Hurrah, Giles is back! The first bit of light in several episodes, and it made me very happy. We get to see another side to Giles, the side that can take on Evil Willow, although it seems to be at great cost. I feared for his life at one point, and after Tara, I didn't trust anything - though I thought it was traditionally the series finale in which Joss Whedon kills off his beloved supporting characters. But for Giles to be killed as a direct result of Willow's actions would be taking Buffy into darker territory than any we've seen so far in a series filled with anguish and despair. It'll be hard enough for the character and show to come back from her (well-deserved) murder of Warren. If she killed a good friend, I think there could be no return. It was predicted that no supernatural power could rescue Willow from her magical self. Good thing there is still some good old-fashioned humanity left, then, and she is saved by Xander. Xander has never been my favourite character. I grew out of disliking him after a couple of seasons, but he's not been at his best in season six. But his friendship for Willow is pure, and it is his love and forgiveness that brings her back to her old self, as he declares, even if she destroys the world, he still loves her, and would rather die by her side than anywhere else. Yes, it was corny, but it was what was needed after this remarkably bleak season.

Episodes with the most impact: (This section is getting more and more difficult to describe accurately.)

1-2: Bargaining. Setting up the tone for the entire season, Willow and the Scoobies resurrect Buffy from the dead. But it is not pretty.
7. Once More With Feeling. The Musical Episode! But if, like me, you expect a nice, lighthearted break from the main plot, then you are very mistaken. The musical format advances the plot in powerful ways.
8. Tabula Rasa. Because I was already familiar with this title, I expected it to be emotionally devastating, but it is quite fun. Thanks to Willow's magical meddling, the group lose their memories and have to come to their own conclusions about who they are and how they relate to each other. Introducing Joan the Vampire Slayer and Giles' new family: son Randy (who you know as Spike) and fiancee Anya. THIS is the light-hearted break from the main plot... until the last five minutes which will require tissues.
9-10. Smashed/Wrecked. Willow's magic gets out of control. Buffy and Spike start fighting and end up... not fighting.
11. Gone. A relatively lighthearted episode, involving an invisibility ray.
15. As You Were. Riley returns, with a wife. The last scene between him and Buffy made me cry for personal reasons - I want to get back in touch with my ex before he moves abroad, but can't bear him knowing that my life hasn't changed in the slightest in the years since we've been apart. And yes, I do want reassurance that just because my life can be disappointing, I'm not a complete failure.
16. Hell's Bells. Xander and Anya's wedding day. Xander, afraid of becoming like his awful father, chickens out and jilts Anya at the altar. JOSS WHEDON IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS.
17. Normal Again: Is all of Buffy just a delusion of a very sick girl in a mental hospital?
19. Seeing Red: I don't know what to make of this episode, in which Spike assaults Buffy; it is very difficult to watch, and I'm not sure if that necessarily means it's good. And this is the episode that ends with Tara's death. Again: it is powerful and shocking but...
20. Villains: Willow goes over to the Dark Side and becomes very scary indeed.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season 5

After the weirdness that was the season 4 finale set entirely in the characters' dreams, season five opens with a pretty fun and relatively fluffy episode, in which Buffy comes face to face with Dracula himself. And boy, does he look out of place in the Buffyverse! This Dracula looks like he's wandered off the set of Interview with the Vampire, maybe even from the Volturi of Twilight, and it just felt wrong. I enjoyed seeing the allusions to the original novel, especially poor Xander filling the Renfield role, but overall it was a pretty average episode - right until the end, when we meet Buffy's younger sister, Dawn.

But Buffy doesn't have a sister.

It's not just that we've never seen her or heard her name mentioned. This isn't just a bad-soap retcon; things Buffy says in the next few episodes contradict what we have seen on screen. "It's not like she hasn't grown up in this house!" Buffy grumbled in episode two; but she hasn't. Buffy herself was surprised to see her, for a moment, when she first appeared. I wondered if the Jonathan-centred episode of season 4, "Superstar" was a practice run for season 5's storyline, in which we, with Buffy and her friends, are plunged into an alternative universe without being told, and left to figure it out for ourselves.

Actually, though the Dawn storyline runs through the entire season, we get answers a lot earlier than I had expected; once more Joss Whedon and his team of writers defy the rules of storytelling to bring us something exciting and new. We learn quite early on why Dawn has always been there... but wasn't always there last week. She is a "key" made of "energy" into the form of a human who will be protected by the strongest woman in the world: Buffy Summers, to prevent the season's Big Bad, Glory, from opening up all doors between parallel dimensions and causing another apocalypse. It kind of makes sense in context. Kind of.

I wasn't thrilled to see that Buffy's boyfriend Riley is still around, and still in the title credits. How come he's in the title credits but Tara is still only listed as a guest star? He was okay, but dull, for season four, but now he's outstayed his welcome. After my last review, Laura queried my assessment of him as "nice." Even in the last season he had some unfortunate character traits that reared their heads occasionally: he could be too persistant, a bit needy, and whatever he might say, he didn't really like that Buffy could take care of herself instead of letting him be the big strong protector. In season five, we see these insecurities grow until they overshadow everything likable about Riley, to the point where I was shouting "JUST GO!" every time I saw him. It took him too long, but I have never been so pleased to see such an indifferent character leave. My friend arrived at my house one day to find me shrieking "YES YES HE'S REALLY GONE!" Good riddance, and please don't come back.

And then there's Spike! I liked Spike from the moment he screeched his car into Sunnydale back in season two, and now we get to see another side to his character. In season five, he comes to realise that he has a crush on Buffy.

What?! 


We've seen Spike as a formidable, quick-witted foe, and we've seen him as a whiny, powerless villain who
no one takes seriously. Now we get to see Spike in love. It is a strange, unsettling story to follow. Certainly Buffy and Spike have chemistry, and are very entertaining to watch together as they fight (and do they ever meet without fighting?) Spike's infatuation made me think of the Phantom of the Opera: simultaneously pitiful and creepy. Sometimes his obsession brings out his better side (even if he is usually only trying to impress Buffy) and sometimes it drives him to disturbing extremes - Buffybot anyone? The two sides of his character do not sit comfortably together; I think we like to be sure whether we feel sorry for a character or are repulsed by them, and Spike evokes both reactions.

We also get to see some of Spike's backstory: as an angsty would-be poet in Victorian England. At first, I thought he could not be more unlike the Spike we've come to know, but as the series progressed and as I thought about it some more, I came to realise that the change was not as great as I'd first thought - and not as great as it should be. This is the change of someone who has lived for over a hundred years, not the change of someone who has had his entire being replaced with that of a monster. Spike seems to be very human, and becoming more so.

For the first time, another character expresses the same reservations I've been having about Willow's use of magic. Her girlfriend, Tara, is a more experienced witch, and as such, has a better understanding of what the limits are. Willow gives Dawn a bit of help in her attempt to do a very dubious spell, and later faces Glory with some terrifying magic. I think it's safe to say that any magic that turns your eyes black is best left alone. But I predict Willow has only just begun and this story will get worse before it gets better.

This season has been all about family: Dawn being inserted into the Summers family and being accepted as one of their own, and the Scooby gang as a family. In the middle of the season is a story revolving more around the Summers women than anything supernatural, when Buffy's mother, Joyce, discovers she has a brain tumour, has surgery, recovers, and then dies from an aneurysm. I'll be honest: I was expecting this since Buffy quipped in season four that she hoped her mother would have a "funny aneurysm" when she saw the cost of her college textbooks. I've lost many hours of my life to the website TvTropes, and I was familiar with the "Funny Aneurysm Moment" trope in which a joke or light-hearted comment is echoed by a far more serious turn of events later on. I didn't know at the time that the page namer came from Buffy, but as soon as she spoke the line, I knew Joyce was doomed. I had not expected the story to be so drawn-out, however, covering several, very well-done episodes, and culminating in "The Body." "The Body" is an extraordinary episode which portrays the shock of grief like nothing else I've ever seen. I realised while watching it that the reason everything seemed so still and silent was that there was no music, no soundtrack, nothing to ease the tension. A very powerful episode indeed, probably the best yet.

In the season five finale, Buffy becomes much darker than ever before, when the Scoobies realise that there is no way they can defeat Glory, and try to make a run for it. Glory has tormented Tara, who is lost and confused within her own mind, and Giles is wounded by a spear through the windscreen of Spike's camper-van (causing Serenity flashbacks: WHY WHEDON, WHY?) Buffy calls Ben, the handsome medical intern she befriended in the hospital when her mother was ill, little knowing that he shares his body with Glory herself. Instead of a glorious (sorry) climactic battle between Buffy and Glory, the villain meets her end at the hands of Giles, while in the form of "Ben." It is chilling to watch as the nice, polite, English librarian kills Ben in cold blood with his bare hands. We've heard before that Giles has a dark past, but this is the first time we really see what that means.

Ben: She could have killed me. Giles: No, she couldn't. Never. And sooner or later Glory will re-emerge, and make Buffy pay for that mercy. And the world with her. Buffy even knows that...and still she couldn't take a human life. She's a hero, you see. She's not like us.Ben: Us?

But even destroying Glory via Ben is not enough to save the world. Only Buffy can do that, by making the greatest sacrifice: her own life. Compare her calm decision with that of the sixteen-year-old at the end of season one, desperate not to die. She's changed a lot: become more serious and grown up, but losing her witty humour. The Slayer's life has not been an easy one, and here it is, cut short. Apparently season five was written to be a potential series finale, and it certainly feels like one. The "previouslies" at the beginning go right back to the very first episode, showing everything that has led up to this point. This finale is darker and more epic than before. All the same, I'm glad that there are still to seasons to come. What a note to end it on!

Best episodes: (It would be misleading to use the word "favourite.)

6. Family: In which we find out a lot more about Tara. The episode end with Spike punching her in the face - which is not usually a thing that one would find heartwarming, but in context is rather lovely.
7. Fool for Love: Showing Spike's backstory. Introducing: William the Bloody (terrible).
10. Into the Woods: I'm only including this because we see the back of Riley. The episode itself is infuriating.
12. Checkpoint: Buffy vs. the Watchers' Council.
13. Blood Ties: In which Dawn discovers her life has been a lie.
15. I Was Made To Love You: A remarkably average robot-girlfriend-of-the-week episode, with a shocking ending. "Mom... Mom?... Mommy?"
16. The Body: "But I don't understand! I don't understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, I knew her, and then she's, there's just a body, and I don't understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore! It's stupid! It's mortal and stupid! And, and Xander's crying and not talking, and, and I was having fruit punch, and I thought, well Joyce will never have any more fruit punch, ever, and she'll never have eggs, or yawn or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why."
17. Forever: Dawn tries to bring her mom back from the dead. Thank goodness we don't get to see the results.
18. Intervention: Spike creates a Buffy-bot. Time to get off the ship. This is not boyfriend material.
19. Tough Love: Willow and Tara have their first quarrel, with tragic results.
22. The Gift: The darkest and most epic finale yet.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season Three

The last we saw of Buffy Summers was of her taking the bus out of Sunnydale to some unknown destination, after killing her vampire-boyfriend Angel to save the world. As you do. Season three opens showing her working as a waitress under an assumed name. But it's not long before the weirdness follows her and sends her home to face up to the consequences of the season two finale.

Back at Sunnydale, Xander, Willow and the others are trying to fight off the vampires without the leadership of the Slayer. This season addresses the relationship between Willow and Xander. First, Willow fancied the oblivious Xander, and then, once Willow got herself a boyfriend, Xander started to feel jealous. Things have come a long way since we first met these characters, and whereas once I would have been happy to see them get together, now I really didn't like seeing them sneaking smoochies whenever they got the chance. Poor Oz! And poor Cordelia. Still, in one way, I'm glad that the inevitable is out of the way now. Although I don't hate Xander's character, I think Willow deserves so much better. Her relationship with Oz survives their cheating. Xander and Cordelia's does not. (I said before, it was never going to last.)

Some new characters are introduced for season three, most notably Richard Wilkins III, mayor of Sunnydale, an apparently genial, fatherly chap who happens to have some nefarious plans of his own. And Faith, the second slayer (Kendra's replacement) a rebellious, angry young woman who is out of control. Faith is played by Eliza Dushku, who I first encountered in Dollhouse, and I observed at the time that she has a very Buffy-ish look to her. I now think that's no coincidence: they are two sides of the same character, Buffy the light, Faith the dark. Faith is how Buffy could have turned out if she didn't have the support from her friends and her mother to keep her grounded, to give her a strong sense of morality. Buffy's conflict with Faith (which could perhaps be interpreted as a conflict between the different sides of her own nature) and the fight to keep the Mayor from transforming into a giant snake monster, is the main plot arc through season three. Because it concerns new characters, it didn't emotionally hook me so much as the story with Angel in season two, but it was entertaining and satisfying to watch, especially in the finale in which the entire graduating class of Sunnydale High join forces to fight the evil (including flaming arrows, because flaming arrows are always awesome.)

I've always thought of Buffy as a high school series, but as Buffy is sixteen at the start of her story, and each season takes place over the course of a school year (like Harry Potter), the show must grow up and move on, like its characters. Season Three finishes with Buffy and co's graduation from high school, and their preparations for university. I felt sad that Willow, after receiving offers from Harvard and Yale, as well as Oxford, decided to study at the local Sunnydale college, but it makes sense in story terms. How could you have a show where each member of the Scooby gang is in a different state? Not to mention the intricacies of filming the series on location. Better to keep them at a fictional college, and build the set to suit the story's need.

There are some marvellous individual stories within season three. I particularly liked "Band Candy," in which students sell chocolate bars to raise money for the school band, and everyone who eats it acts like an irresponsible teenager again. Principal Snyder was both hilarious and creepy acting like a kid, whereas Giles was hilarious with a tough London accent, in a tight t-shirt instead of his usual tweed. This was surprisingly pleasing - and Buffy's mother Joyce certainly thought so, as we discover later on with much hilarity (although I don't think Buffy would share the amusement.) I loved the moment when she confronted Giles about her mother, and he walked right into a tree with shock.

This season also introduces Sexy Evil Vampire Willow, from a parallel dimension created by Cordelia's wish that Buffy had never come to Sunnydale. Willow has certainly gained a new confidence in this season, with her relationship with Oz, and new-found interest in witchcraft. (I do fear for her in her witchery, however. I've noticed hints that she might be getting in over her head. Foreshadowing for later seasons perhaps?) Alyson Hannigan must have had so much fun playing Willow as a psychotic vampire, with echoes of Drusilla from season two. "Bored now!" She was so entertaining to watch, and as an added bonus, she comes back in another episode to really shine, acting opposite her usual timid, bookish character.

After Giles breaks the Watchers' rules, he is sacked from the Watchers' Council and replaced by Wesley, a younger, Gilesier Giles. It's quite uncanny to watch the two together (simultaneously wiping their glasses with handkerchiefs during an awkward moment.) Wesley is Giles with all the book-knowledge and none of the experience, full of ideas about authority and rules and orders, and not much clue about actually dealing with vampires. Or slayers. Or teenagers in general. All the Watchers seem to be English, all upper-class and probably Oxbridge-educated. Do none of the American universities give a doctorate in Watching? Quite remiss of them, don't you think?

As you could probably predict (considering he has his own TV show) Angel does not stay dead for long, and is the cause of the greatest plot twist yet. After coming back from the dead, his own, good self, and nursed back to health by Buffy, it doesn't take much to turn him evil again: Faith splatters him with blood, and some creepy ninja-dude appears, and boom! Angel is the bad "Angelus" once more. Faith and Angel capture Buffy, chain her up and prepare to torture her. Then we get this marvelous exchange:

Faith: "What can I say? I'm the world's best actor."
Angel: "Second best."

He was acting all along! How's about that for a shocking moment! Wonderful, so unexpected, my favourite moment of the series so far.

I knew Angel wasn't around for all of Buffy, and so many times in season three, it looks as though he and Buffy are going to split up, that he's going to leave town, that they won't see each other again. But it takes the entire season for him to actually get his act together and go! It's not that I dislike them as a couple. I want Buffy to be happy. But if he's going to go, can't he just stop faffing and go? He breaks up with Buffy, finally, a couple of episodes from the end, and this time it actually does seem final, with harsh words spoken and a broken heart, but he sticks around to help defeat the Mayor's evil plan before disappearing into the night at the end of the season finale. I think we've seen the last of him for a while. I believe Angel runs parallel to Buffy from now on, although I don't have the DVDs for that. Is it essential viewing to make sense of Buffy, or can I muddle along without it? I think Angel's an OK character, but it's Buffy, Willow, Giles and the others that I'm really interested in.

Favourite episodes:

6. Band Candy: In which all the adults act like teenagers and Giles gets together with Buffy's mother.
9. The Wish: A very dark It's A Wonderful Life episode, with Xander and Willow as vampires.
13. The Zeppo: In which Xander feels excluded from the vampire slaying, has his own adventures, and we see just snippets of what would ordinarily be the "main" plot.
14-15. Bad Girls/Consequences: In which Faith goes off the rails, and tries to drag Buffy along with her.
16. Doppelgangland: Welcome back Sexy Evil Vampire Willow!
17. Enemies: The one with the big plot twist.
18. Earshot: In which Buffy can hear everyone else's thoughts.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Season Two

I'm assuming I'm the last person to watch Buffy, but in case I'm not: spoilers.

After the first couple of episodes, I quite enjoyed the first season of Buffy as a series of one-off monster-of-the-week episodes. Season two is where it really kicks off. Its opening wasn't promising: the first episode looked like textbook How Not To Sequel, showing the vampires attempting to bring back the Master from the dead, the villain Buffy defeated at the end of the previous season. I didn't love the Master - he was cheesy and somewhat irritating, certainly not a strong enough villain to be the Big Bad of all of Buffy. I was relieved when this story came to nothing, serving mostly as an excuse for Buffy to find closure (which she did by smashing the Master's skeleton into dust with a hammer.) With the Master out of the way, the obvious next villain must be The Anointed One, a seriously creepy child who is leading the vampires. Or so you'd think.

Enter Spike. From the minute he screeched his car into Sunnydale, I knew that this series was never going to be the same again. I knew who he was immediately - I remembered all my friends loving Spike from the first time around, but didn't see what the appeal was. Of course I didn't. I only saw pictures. But as soon as he struts onto the scene, even with his vampire-face on, and an accent that is supposed to be London, but wobbles, Spike exudes a sort of villainous charm, the Lestat to Angel's Louis. In his first episode, Joss Whedon subverts our expectations in his characteristic way, when Spike effortlessly destroys the Anointed One at the end of his very first episode. This is not someone you want to mess with. Nor is his girlfriend, Drusilla, who is quite mad: part a malevolent River Tam of Firefly, part Helena Bonham Carter as... well, any of her roles, and all very sinister indeed.

Season two is where the main characters start to find success in love. A new character is introduced: Oz, a musician and in the year above them, who upon seeing Willow becomes utterly "Who is that girl?" Likewise, I fell head-over-heels in love with Oz: he's cool and laid-back and utterly adorable, and it made me very happy to see Willow get over her unrequited fancy of Xander and pair up with Oz. They are quite possibly the cutest couple ever. And then Oz becomes a werewolf. I've had a soft spot for decent people who become werewolves ever since Remus Lupin, and so I was utterly thrilled to see that my favourite new character got this plot - even if the werewolf is basically a man in wolf mask and a hairy suit. (It beats most CGI werewolves these days.)
besotted.

Meanwhile, Xander starts sneaking secret smoochies with... Cordelia?!?! The mean-girl queen bee who has nothing but contempt for Buffy and her friends, and particularly Xander? I wouldn't quite say that theirs is a Benedick and Beatrice relationship, but it is certainly a fiery one. (It'll never last.)

But most important is Buffy's relationship with Angel, which is consumated half-way through the season. And then, everything changes, Whedon-style. Buffy's good vampire boyfriend is gone, turned into a sadistic monster, the worst of all the vampires. WHAT? I had absolutely no idea that this was going to happen, and was both upset and awed. The story's not meant to go that way. And I love it when a story doesn't go the way it "should."

I expected Angel to be reformed soon after his tranformation, and spend the rest of the season angsting over what he'd done. His actions in the episode "Passion" proved me wrong: not only does he murder Giles' new girlfriend, Miss Jenny Calendar, but he tucks her body up in Giles' bed, leaving a romantic rose-trail up the stairs. So much crueller to Giles - and agony for the viewers to see Giles look so happy knowing what he is about to find. This is not a little blip on Angel's record, Whedon tells us. Broody good Angel is not in there any more.

Season two introduces Kendra the Vampire Slayer - Buffy's replacement, because she "died" at the end of the season one finale, if only for a minute or two. This poses the question: is this "only-one-slayer" business all messed up forever now? When Kendra dies (she lasted longer than I expected, but not past the season finale) will she be also replaced, in a continual line of two slayers forever (unless another one dies briefly and revives, again, and then there were three?) These things bother me. 

Who would have predicted at the beginning of the season that the Big Bad would not be the Master, nor the Anointed One, or even Spike and Drusilla, but handsome, harmless Angel? Congratulations Angel, you have character! You have depth! Shame Buffy has to kill you because you're about to bring about the end of the world. But wait! Willow may be able to magic Angel's soul back into him. My idea of the series' tragic ending would be that Angel would turn back to good at the exact instant that Buffy staked him. (Yes, I know he gets his own series later down the line, but dead doesn't always mean dead in this 'verse. I mean, c'mon, vampires!) As if that wouldn't be tragic enough, once more, Joss Whedon tweaks the narrative just enough to make it even more devastation. Angel gets his soul back... but Buffy still has to kill him to save the world. Deliberately and in cold blood.

I have said it many times: Joss Whedon feeds on his fans' (and characters') pain and anguish. Season two just confirms this... and I've a horrible feeling that it has only just begun.

Most Memorable Episodes. (I'm not sure "favourite" is the correct word any more.)

4. Inca Mummy Girl: In which Buffy's exchange student turns out to be an Inca Mummy.
6. Halloween: In which halloween costumes change their wearers.
7. Lie To Me: In which Buffy is reunited with an old classmate, who is too interested in the vampires.
11. Ted: In which Buffy's mom gets a new boyfriend, who is not as nice as he seems.
13-14. Surprise/Innocence: In which Buffy turns seventeen and sleeps with Angel, who turns evil.
15. Phases: In which Oz is revealed to be a werewolf.
17. Passion: In which Angel proves what he is capable of.
19. I only have eyes for you: In which an illicit romance with a tragic ending is acted out again and again at Sunnydale High. Points deducted for wasps.
21-22. Becoming: The season finale, in which everything hurts and nothing is OK.

Sunday Summary: Slumps, Slayers and Shakespeare

It feels like ages since I've written anything on the blog. I've not exactly been in a reading slump, but it has taken me a long time to get through the two books I was reading: my least favourite Harry Potter book, and a science fiction book called Mindstar Rising. After a pretty bad start, Mindstar shaped out to be pretty all right, but the plot was too reliant on fictitious technology which confused me and lost my interest. The book's best part was the description of the landscape, an England after global warming has wreaked havoc on the environment and flooded much of the east of the country. It was interesting to see a future visualised from the 1990s. I noticed that there were no mobile phones, and the student grumbling about not getting a big enough student grant made me chuckle rather sadly. They weren't paying him enough to study? Oh, sweet summer child...

I've got back into my writing with a vengeance this year, aiming for 500 words per day (but with weekends off.) My story so far is centred around a geeky teenage girl at the turn of the millennium, and I'm drawing on a lot of my memories of high school. And if I'm writing about a geeky teen in 1999, then I really need to brush up on my Buffy the Vampire Slayer knowledge. Would you believe I never watched it? That is a shameful confession from such an incurable nerd and Whedonphile as myself. I've never been a big fan of the "chosen one" trope (Even in Harry Potter it is a thing to be endured for the sake of the rest of the story) or of vampires. I've borrowed the complete boxset from Judith and have whizzed through the first season in three days flat. Yes, the vampires are cheesier than a fondue, but I've started to really like some of the characters. Buffy is awesome: cute and petite and girly, but who will suffer no nonsense for either vampires or school bullies. If you think back to when the series was new, it is refreshing to have the pretty blonde teenager chasing the monsters rather than vice versa. I also love Giles and Willow (aw, Willow is adorable!) but Xander is showing definite signs of Nice Guy Syndrome. And as for Angel - well, he doesn't sparkle, I'll give him that.

One of my friends is a founder of the new Isle of Wight Shakespeare Company, and after a lot of dithering, I decided to audition for a part in their first production, Much Ado About Nothing. I saw that play in London in 2011, starring David Tennant and Catherine Tate, and Joss Whedon produced a black-and-white film of it last year at his house with a cast made almost entirely out of the stars of his shows: Angel, Firefly and Dollhouse. Much Ado About Nothing is one of my favourite Shakespeare plays (although why does Hero take Claudio back? Foolish girl!) Benedick and Beatrice are the prototype bickering couple, setting the standard for every other romantic comedy duo since, and Beatrice is a wonderful character, probably Shakespeare's most rounded and modern heroine. Of course, there is no way I'll actually get the part of Beatrice, or any major role - I'm not expecting even a minor part - but I know I'd regret it if I wimped out.

Dollhouse: Season 2

Contains season one spoilers, season two spoilers, anguished cries of "WHY?" and cursing of the name of Joss Whedon. You have been warned.

So, everything hurts and nothing is okay. Why do we do this? Why do we, as humans, enjoy getting our feelings ripped out and shoved in a blender in the name of entertainment? Is it because we learn to deal with the highs and lows that life throws at us, in a safe environment because it's not real? Perhaps so, but sometimes even the fiction can break our heart and make us feel actual physical pain which is generally not considered enjoyable. And yet we go back for more. Joss Whedon is known for being the master of emotion-manipulation, and is simultaneously loved and cursed for it.

Funny I should say this about a television series that I initially described as "engaging my brain more than my heart." Somewhere along the line, Dollhouse changed and I started caring. Really caring. Season two is overshadowed by a sense of doom, as we know what the future has in store, thanks to Season one's finale, "Epitaph One."

It was a risky decision to have a foregone conclusion, but in this case I think it worked. "Epitaph One" showed a post-apocalyptic world where the dollhouse technology has ended up in the hands of those who use it as a weapon in an attempt to achieve immortality - by wiping minds and imprinting new personalities at the touch of a button. "Epitaph One" could almost stand as a series finale, if necessary, if a very bleak one, but it does not mean that we know everything in season two before we watch it. We know what the Dollhouse-verse will look like in 2019, but not how it got there. This flash-forward gives every little advancement in Dollhouse technology or power an ominous significance.

Season one took its time to get started, the first few episodes following Echo in various assignments in order to give a sense of how the Dollhouse works when it's running smoothly (er, if you don't include that unfortunate incident with rogue "doll" Alpha that had happened shortly before the beginning of the season, or any of the self-contained misadventures that befall Echo, Sierra or Victor while they are out on an engagement) before gradually developing into a bigger story arc. The series seemed to be a different show every time I watched it. Season two shows the plot escalating much faster. There are fewer assignments-of-the-week, with a greater focus on the Dollhouse itself and its sinister parent corporation Rossum.

I wrote in my first review that I didn't understand the love for Adele DeWitt, head of the LA Dollhouse. She is externally a very hard, cold woman, and when her authority is threatened, she becomes harder and colder. Dollhouse does not have easily classifiable "good" or "bad" characters, and Adele's motivations are unclear for much of the season. Is the welfare of her "dolls" and house her top priority, or is it her own power? I hated her for a few episodes, really believing that her character's story was a study in the corruptive nature of power and the dangers of constantly crossing and redrawing one's moral boundaries until there is nothing left. But no. Adele may have lost control for a while, but her apparent worst act of betrayal all turned out to be part of an intricate plan to attempt to bring down Rossum. After this revelation, my jaw was hitting the floor for the last five minutes of the episode. Yes, she is a complex character, double- and triple-crossing the dolls, Rossum and the viewers, the Severus Snape of Dollhouse, but with a better haircare regime.

It seems funny now, that I was so surprised that Adele was not a traitor (to us, anyway) after all. It doesn't seem like a twist at all, not compared with the following episode's bombshell.

What did I write about Boyd Langton before?

"...a fairly decent, fatherly type of character who seems to be conflicted about the organisation he works for [...] he does seem to have more of a sense of morality than the rest of the staff, who put their consciences to one side for science."

Er, quite.

Except for being the head of Rossum itself. No no no what no what what no (continue over the episode's entire closing credit sequence and you'll have my reaction.) Boyd was the one character I felt I could count on, a quiet but steady figure among a cast of morally ambiguous figures who it would be folly to trust completely. I did not see that coming!

Or did I? It seems I hit the nail on the head when I commented that I trusted Boyd because I was seeing him through Echo's eyes, who was specifically programmed to trust him with her life. So were we! And even knowing the truth, hearing him say and watching him do terrible things, that programming overruled my senses. I couldn't hate him. I couldn't look into his face and see a bad guy, despite all the evidence, even while I was shouting at the characters not to trust him. And I grieved at his death. I grieved the character I thought I'd known, even though he'd never really existed. (Yes, this is a character who never really existed on a deeper level than everyone else I've grieved who never existed other than in fiction.) It hurt.

But not half as much as the final episode: "Epitaph Two: The Return." Not due to the death of the supposed main love interest (who I didn't realise had even been absent for a few episodes until he reappeared, that's how much of an impression he made on me.) Partly thanks to the apocalyptic nightmare world of 2019. Partly when I saw Priya (doll-name Sierra) at Safe Haven among many other faces - but without Anthony (formerly known as Victor.) Their love story had transcended the many personalities imprinted on them. Whoever Sierra and Victor were from week to week, they always found themselves in love with each other, even when in blank doll-state. It even touched my hard heart. But where was Anthony? Why wasn't Anthony with them? This wasn't right, this was very wrong! It wasn't the worst, though. He was alive, but their marriage was in trouble, because Anthony had become addicted to all the technology that was the reason for the predicament the world had come to. And they had a child, and Priya had tried to shield him from all that stuff, and given the choice, Anthony chose the tech. They managed to sort things out in the end, though, thankfully. I couldn't have borne it otherwise.

But what really broke my heart was poor Topher, who was driven mad by the knowledge of his role in hastening the thought-pocalypse ("Is brain-pocalypse better? I figure, if I'm responsible for the end of the world, I get to name it," he said before he broke completely.) If ever I wanted to hug a TV character until everything was better, it was Topher. But hugs provide no comfort, because he's right. It is partly his fault: Topher developed the technology used in the terrible war that brought the world crashing down. Honourable motives don't change that.

After "Epitaph One" I knew that Topher would not survive the series. I thought I was prepared for his death as soon as I realised I liked him - Joss Whedon has a way of killing off not the heroes, but well-loved supporting characters. (Still not over his "leaf on the wind" trick! WHEDON!!!!) I wasn't prepared. Oh, it had to happen, and it was the best ending for him, I think, sacrificing himself putting right the damage he had inadvertently caused. People On The Internet have wondered how come a genius who can remotely wipe and programme people's personalities, can't invent a remote detonator for an explosion. I think it's not a case of can't, but won't. I don't think Topher could live with his guilt any more. Besides, his brain, his technology, had been his whole life, and now he'd seen the effects of that, I don't know what kind of life he would have had, forever in fear that anything he did might bring about a repeat of this devastation. His story had to end this way - but I howled.

Still, the fact that Dollhouse affected me so strongly has got to say something about its quality. It was a week ago that I finished watching the series, but the story has stuck in my head. It was quick to capture my imagination, but the characters were sneakier, worming their way into my affections without me really noticing. It shows the power of storytelling that it can both make one think and feel deeply, though now I feel emotionally exhausted.

My friend wants to show me Whedon's Cabin in the Woods, but I've resisted so far because I'm not into horror movies. But she is trying to use my love for Topher Brink to persuade me, because actor Fran Kranz is apparently just as lovable in a similar role in that movie. Perhaps not right away. I know how that film ends. I think it's time for something lighter.

I've been watching a lot of Avengers movies recently. Again, I blame Joss Whedon for getting me into that. I've been adamant that I don't do comic books. (Then Sandman happened.) And I certainly don't do super heroes! (Er, how many super hero comic-book film adaptations do I have on DVD now? The lady doth protest too much. Iron Man 3 is out soon. Yay!)

Dollhouse, Season 1.

Last year, my best friend got me hooked on Joss Whedon's cult classic "space western," Firefly. This year she has introduced me to another, lesser-known Whedon series: Dollhouse. The titular Dollhouse is a top secret organisation which provides employees for very specific jobs. Kind of like a temp agency, you might think - except that instead of matching the job to the employee, they create the employee from scratch to be just what the client needs: inventing the memories, skills and personalities to provide satisfaction. But these new-made people are programmed into existing bodies, or "dolls," whose personalities have been erased to make room for these new people - backed up onto disc and removed from their minds. A "doll" can be a detective, or a wife (or husband), a pop star's backing singer, or a teacher - or a spy so convincing that even they don't know that they are anything other than what they are pretending to be. These aren't actors; these are people designed to specification. They fulfill their duties, return to the Dollhouse, where this personality is wiped and they return to their vapid, childlike state, ("Did I fall asleep?" - those words gets seriously creepy after a while.) floating around the house taking endless showers and eating banana pancakes, ("I like pancakes.") until their new role comes up and they go to be reprogrammed.

It must be an extremely challenging role to play one of the "actives," as each week, they are a different character. The series follows one particular "doll," codenamed Echo, and every time you watch an episode, you're in a different show - detective, conspiracy, thriller, romance, etc. The first episodes merely show her in her jobs, the dollhouse staff, and Paul Ballard, an FBI agent who is trying to find out all about the whole sketchy business. And then Echo starts remembering things that have not been programmed into her, memories from before she became an empty "doll," when she was a student activist named Caroline. And that is just when it starts getting weird. Um, weirder.

Dollhouse is a show that engages my brain more than my heart, at first, raising a hundred and one questions about what it is to be human, what makes an individual, and free will. But with a main character who changes personality every week, you need a flexible actress. Eliza Dushku plays Echo/Caroline adequately, convincing in each new role, but never really making me feel any attachment to her - probably because we never get to know any of the characters very well or for very long. But I care for the other "dolls" - notably Sierra and Victor - more. They, like Echo, are rewritten in each episode, but, like Echo, things seep through that shouldn't, making them more like "real people" than the Dollhouse intends.

And when many characters are in charge of an organisation that takes away people's humanity, often by coercion or force, making them do and say and be anything, with the belief that this is really their own choice, it is difficult to like or care for them. I do, however, like Boyd Langton, Echo's bodyguard, a fairly decent, fatherly type of character who seems to be conflicted about the organisation he works for. But he still works for the Dollhouse. Perhaps I trust him mainly because Echo's trust in him is so complete - and programmed into her. Hmm. But he does seem to have more of a sense of morality than the rest of the staff, who put their consciences to one side for science.

I'm also fond of Topher, the immature and rather bratty youthful genius in charge of actually programming the dolls. I understand he was a fairly unpopular character in the early episodes - though he does start to get a bit of poignant character development around episode 10 of the series - but for me he was some refreshing relief and humour in an unexpectedly dark programme. The morality of the Dollhouse doesn't trouble him much, because he is loving the unique opportunity to do what he loves and what he does well: messing around with cutting-edge technology and showing off. He is maybe arrogant, maybe irritating, but he has a childlike energy that contrasts with the stern, businesslike Adele DeWitt (who seems to be universally loved, but aside from her Britishness and occasional hints of vulnerability - and a wonderful comic scene in episode 7, I don't get it.)

 It's difficult to say much more without giving away major spoilers for the last few episodes. Just mentioning minor details highlights their significance, and I watched the first season entirely unspoiled, and that was awesome. But the entire point of writing about this thing is to rave about it. So, um. The big one, I guess, is the introduction of a character, played by an actor I knew from elsewhere, who turned out NOT to be what I expected from his first appearance in the show.

If you've seen the programme, highlight the white text below and watch my mind exploding in spoilery and semi-coherent squealing.

>>>WASH IS ALPHA! Alan Tudyk, guest-starring as a cowardly, hippy nerd afraid of backless staircases, turns out to be THE major villain of the entire series. And he is terrifying in the role. The transformation was one of the most stunning pieces of acting in the entire show, and probably the best thing I've seen him as. I started off thinking, "Oh, look, it's a Firefly cameo, sweet. I love Wash. Dear old Wash." and ended up half an hour later thinking, "hold on, that was Wash? I can hardly believe it."

And then, ALL OF EPITAPH 1. I mean, the fact that it is called Epitaph and not Epilogue started setting off the alarm bells in my mind. Episode 12 seemed like such a perfect finale to season one, that I could not figure out what episode thirteen had to add. (I later discovered that it was added on because Fox needed a thirteen-part series, and the pilot was deemed unsuitable.) And MY GOODNESS it is different. Flash forward ten years from the story-so-far, and the world is unrecognisable. The Dollhouse technology has been developed and advanced, before being taken over by hostile forces to bring about war and worldwide destruction. ("Children playing with matches, and they burned the house down." - *shudder*) "Epitaph 1" shifts the genre of Dollhouse the most dramatically yet from speculative/science fiction/alternative present to a not-too-distant post-apocalyptic horror. This is what the series is headed for. This is the unavoidable conclusion. Beware. I wrote earlier that the series appealed to my mind less than my feelings, but evidently I've grown fonder of these characters. "Epitaph 1" switches between the ten-year flash-forward, focused upon new characters, and a series of flashbacks hinting at the fates of the characters we've spent the last twelve episodes getting to know. And it is heart-wrenching. Whedon sure knows how to rip your feelings up. He broke Topher! Oh, poor Topher. I now realise that what he did to Wash "I am a leaf on the Wind" in Serenity was the kind option. CURSE YOU, WHEDON!!!!<<<

I've hidden the spoilers for the sake of people who haven't seen the series but want to. So far, I've only seen the first season, so please don't leave any season 2 spoilers in the comments. (Or if you absolutely HAVE to rave about what I haven't seen yet, I suggest coding it at rot13.com so that I can read it later on. Go ahead. Laugh at my ignorance of what is to come.)