blackfrancine (
blackfrancine) wrote2011-02-04 12:36 am
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Day 5: My Favorite Season (my titles are really awe-inspiringly creative aren't they?)
So, I don't know if anyone noticed--if you did, you are magnanimous in nature for not correcting me-- I posted two "Day 3's." I'm not surprised that I had a counting!fail. But, really, I thought I would've broken ten with no mistakes. Alas.
But, I'm all set straight and cardinally numbered. And rarin' to do Day 5. Which! Is super apropos for
gabrielleabelle 's Why So Icy? poll!
My favorite season? Easy.
Season 6.

Season 6 will always be my favorite.
I'm fully willing to grant that there may be better-executed seasons or more perfect seasons or more ambitious seasons or more epic seasons. But I don't think there's a more powerful season. I'm not sure there's a more powerful season or story in all of television.
Buffy's a hero. A cutey-pie, sassamafrass hero. That's what her friends expect of her. That's what the world expects of her. That's what she expects of herself. And in season 6 we see her just completely unable to fulfill those expectations set by that enforced, external identity. She just. can't. do. it. She's fought so, so long. She's laughed in the face of death and decay and darkness for years. And, in season 6, she has nothing left to give.
She has nothing left. BUT SHE KEEPS ON PERFORMING HER DUTY. She goes through the motions.
And it's this--this going through the motions--that makes her think that she's a failure. That she's wrong and bad. Because she isn't filled with zest of life while fighting debilitating depression and struggling with responsibilities that give adults who are far older and more experienced than she a hefty amount of trouble.
It's the lack of zest that causes her friends to exchange loaded, knowing looks behind her back. It's the lack of zest that causes her only guide, only financial support to abandon her. It's this lack of zest that causes a lot of fans to turn away from her.
The fans want their Buffy. Their hero. And this season makes the fans take a good, long, hard look at what they're asking of Buffy. At what they want her to swallow. At what they want her to bury deep within herself. At how they want her to LIE to them (*ahem* calling back to "Lie to Me").
But season 6 isn't just about hero-worship and falling from pedestals. It's not just about confronting the expectations we thrust on our role models (though it IS about that)--It's also about becoming aware of our own failings. It's about the corpses of dreams and expectations that start piling up as you grow older. Hearing doors of opportunity clicking shut all around you. And losing or changing who you are--or who you feel like you are--to try and deal with that. To deal with the realization that the world doesn't look as bright and shiny as it did 2 years ago.
And maybe this will out me as a horrible cynic--but is this season about depression? Yes. It's a fact that the world is less shiny when you're depressed. And depression absolutely tints Buffy's perception. But moreover, this season is about growing up. It's about adulthood. And having to recalibrate your ideas about happiness and success and love. It's about learning to cope with pain and disappointment.
And the fact that Buffy comes through this season and all that awfulness with her soul relatively in tact just... it moves me. Because this season doesn't lie. It doesn't tell you that everything can go back to how it was. It doesn't tell you everything is going to be alright. But in spite of its brutal honesty, Buffy is alright. And things may not go back to how they were--and yes, many of us will always mourn that, the loss of intimacy between the core group--but while things don't go back, they do go on.
And, I don't know. That's such a strange message for television. Maybe that's why people don't like the late seasons. Because we've been trained to expect a resolution that returns us to the status quo that existed before the conflict. But BtVS doesn't do that. Season 6 doesn't do that.
Instead, it teaches us that everyone is flawed. And everyone needs compassion. Warren is misogynistic egomaniac. Who was bullied for who knows how long, and who knows how brutally. Willow was a perfect student, loyal friend, brave and decent citizen. Who felt empty inside. Who felt that nothing about her could ever be worthy of love--so she sought to redefine herself--sought to leave the nerd behind. But all she created was an even emptier husk. One that would collapse when her external supports disappeared.
Xander was goofball, loving, gentle, longing to be better. But he was a goofball that was so afraid of becoming a monster, that he did. He stared into the abyss, and the abyss stared also into him.
The need for compassion applies to every single character in season 6. We look at Jonathan. Our poor, sweet little Jonathan from Earshot, and wonder how he got here. And we can see how much humanity and decency remains in him. Even mixed in with the cowardice and the baser urges. We look at Anya. God. Poor, sweet, Anya who chooses her words a shade too precisely. She looks to Xander to define her--and when he refuses to be her definition anymore, she's set adrift. Alone. Rudderless.
Even Giles. So desperately wanting to be the good guardian. So desperately wanting to lift Buffy up onto his shoulders, to carry her until she's better--but thinking that he would be failing her if he did. God. He's so wrong. But he's so filled with love and good intentions.
This is the season that really examines what it means to be HUMAN. It examines the ways that we crush each other under the heels of our very own stylish, yet affordable, boots. How we destroy ourselves. How we fail each other. It examines WHY we become cracked, and flawed, and broken. Why we become bad and wrong and dirty. And then it examines how all of us--how all of us dirty, wrong humans have the capacity for goodness and forgiveness and redemption. We all have the ability to claw our way out of our own graves--to claw our way back from the emotional deadness that adulthood and pain and trauma can cause.
And they examine all this--they break down the human condition--by making Buffy "a little less human." Because, really, we're all a little less human than we pretend to be. And we're also a little more human than our behavior might indicate.
Anyway. That's why I love Season 6. Because, though I am a misanthrope, I do love me some humanity. I'm a conundrum!
Also, if some of this post looks familiar, it's because I took some (okay--most) of it from a comment I left in
ohwaluvusbab 's journal a while back. I'M SORRY, GUYS. I was feeling lazy and uninspired. This is why I don't usually post this often--I'm too tempted to cheat.
But, I'm all set straight and cardinally numbered. And rarin' to do Day 5. Which! Is super apropos for
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My favorite season? Easy.
Season 6.

Season 6 will always be my favorite.
I'm fully willing to grant that there may be better-executed seasons or more perfect seasons or more ambitious seasons or more epic seasons. But I don't think there's a more powerful season. I'm not sure there's a more powerful season or story in all of television.
Buffy's a hero. A cutey-pie, sassamafrass hero. That's what her friends expect of her. That's what the world expects of her. That's what she expects of herself. And in season 6 we see her just completely unable to fulfill those expectations set by that enforced, external identity. She just. can't. do. it. She's fought so, so long. She's laughed in the face of death and decay and darkness for years. And, in season 6, she has nothing left to give.
She has nothing left. BUT SHE KEEPS ON PERFORMING HER DUTY. She goes through the motions.
And it's this--this going through the motions--that makes her think that she's a failure. That she's wrong and bad. Because she isn't filled with zest of life while fighting debilitating depression and struggling with responsibilities that give adults who are far older and more experienced than she a hefty amount of trouble.
It's the lack of zest that causes her friends to exchange loaded, knowing looks behind her back. It's the lack of zest that causes her only guide, only financial support to abandon her. It's this lack of zest that causes a lot of fans to turn away from her.
The fans want their Buffy. Their hero. And this season makes the fans take a good, long, hard look at what they're asking of Buffy. At what they want her to swallow. At what they want her to bury deep within herself. At how they want her to LIE to them (*ahem* calling back to "Lie to Me").
But season 6 isn't just about hero-worship and falling from pedestals. It's not just about confronting the expectations we thrust on our role models (though it IS about that)--It's also about becoming aware of our own failings. It's about the corpses of dreams and expectations that start piling up as you grow older. Hearing doors of opportunity clicking shut all around you. And losing or changing who you are--or who you feel like you are--to try and deal with that. To deal with the realization that the world doesn't look as bright and shiny as it did 2 years ago.
And maybe this will out me as a horrible cynic--but is this season about depression? Yes. It's a fact that the world is less shiny when you're depressed. And depression absolutely tints Buffy's perception. But moreover, this season is about growing up. It's about adulthood. And having to recalibrate your ideas about happiness and success and love. It's about learning to cope with pain and disappointment.
And the fact that Buffy comes through this season and all that awfulness with her soul relatively in tact just... it moves me. Because this season doesn't lie. It doesn't tell you that everything can go back to how it was. It doesn't tell you everything is going to be alright. But in spite of its brutal honesty, Buffy is alright. And things may not go back to how they were--and yes, many of us will always mourn that, the loss of intimacy between the core group--but while things don't go back, they do go on.
And, I don't know. That's such a strange message for television. Maybe that's why people don't like the late seasons. Because we've been trained to expect a resolution that returns us to the status quo that existed before the conflict. But BtVS doesn't do that. Season 6 doesn't do that.
Instead, it teaches us that everyone is flawed. And everyone needs compassion. Warren is misogynistic egomaniac. Who was bullied for who knows how long, and who knows how brutally. Willow was a perfect student, loyal friend, brave and decent citizen. Who felt empty inside. Who felt that nothing about her could ever be worthy of love--so she sought to redefine herself--sought to leave the nerd behind. But all she created was an even emptier husk. One that would collapse when her external supports disappeared.
Xander was goofball, loving, gentle, longing to be better. But he was a goofball that was so afraid of becoming a monster, that he did. He stared into the abyss, and the abyss stared also into him.
The need for compassion applies to every single character in season 6. We look at Jonathan. Our poor, sweet little Jonathan from Earshot, and wonder how he got here. And we can see how much humanity and decency remains in him. Even mixed in with the cowardice and the baser urges. We look at Anya. God. Poor, sweet, Anya who chooses her words a shade too precisely. She looks to Xander to define her--and when he refuses to be her definition anymore, she's set adrift. Alone. Rudderless.
Even Giles. So desperately wanting to be the good guardian. So desperately wanting to lift Buffy up onto his shoulders, to carry her until she's better--but thinking that he would be failing her if he did. God. He's so wrong. But he's so filled with love and good intentions.
This is the season that really examines what it means to be HUMAN. It examines the ways that we crush each other under the heels of our very own stylish, yet affordable, boots. How we destroy ourselves. How we fail each other. It examines WHY we become cracked, and flawed, and broken. Why we become bad and wrong and dirty. And then it examines how all of us--how all of us dirty, wrong humans have the capacity for goodness and forgiveness and redemption. We all have the ability to claw our way out of our own graves--to claw our way back from the emotional deadness that adulthood and pain and trauma can cause.
And they examine all this--they break down the human condition--by making Buffy "a little less human." Because, really, we're all a little less human than we pretend to be. And we're also a little more human than our behavior might indicate.
Anyway. That's why I love Season 6. Because, though I am a misanthrope, I do love me some humanity. I'm a conundrum!
Also, if some of this post looks familiar, it's because I took some (okay--most) of it from a comment I left in
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