The Avengers (Joss Whedon, 2012)

Let's get a couple of things out of the way. The Avengers opens on such a hollow note that its entire first act struggles to find any kind of footing at all. Trapped between a need for some basic exposition and a total disregard for anyone foolish enough to wade into this film without having seen its multiple-franchise foundations, The Avengers thus has nothing for anyone as it slowly, ever so slowly, brings together its collection of superheroes. And though I've never previously bought the charge that Joss Whedon is a smug writer, I nearly blushed at the self-satisfaction in some early exchanges and setups, so obvious and fan-massaging that their cynicism threatened to divorce me entirely from what I hoped would be Whedon's big break. Maybe all that trash-talking he'd done over the years for those who "misread" or "mishandled" his early film scripts was just a smokescreen for a writer whose considerable gift for television writing simply didn't translate to the more concise storytelling of cinema.

Then, something happened that has not occurred in any of the Marvel films leading up to this blowout: the movie kept getting better. Most of the previous films started with intriguing concepts and approaches before fizzling out in half-baked, perfunctorily executed action romps that served only to set up the chess pieces for this picture. Even Captain America, easily the best of the Marvel Studios franchise starters, dipped a bit in the middle, though it differs from its peers in that it finished strong where movies like Iron Man, Thor and The Incredible Hulk ended on lame notes. But The Avengers swaps the usual Marvel dynamic, moving out of a dull, lazy setup into something clever, well-observed and, ultimately, thrilling. By the time everything fell into place, my laundry list of complaints evaporated in the pure rush of Whedon's ambition.

The Cabin in the Woods (Drew Goddard, 2012)

[Warning: Contains mild first-act spoilers after the jump]

Drew Goddard made his feature debut with 2008's Cloverfield, penning the film's ambitious but misguided script that sought to comment on modern mindsets regarding the documentation of our lives via the kaiju film genre. His idea, clever on paper, was that a group of privileged New York yuppies contending with 9/11-esque frenzy would nevertheless ensure that their bewilderment and horror was caught on video for posterity, or at least for YouTube hits. Unfortunately for Goddard, director Matt Reeves' muddled direction and some dire acting performances sapped whatever potential the script contained, resulting in a lifeless film that only occasionally hinted at just how far it wanted to go with its metaphor.

By teaming up with his old Buffy and Angel boss Joss Whedon, however, Goddard got a second chance to say something with horror, and The Cabin in the Woods truly delivers on his promise. At times recalling Sam Raimi's 2009 return-to-form Drag Me to Hell, The Cabin in the Woods differs from that film, and other self-aware horror movies, by not merely calling attention to horror tropes but breaking them down, working out how they apply to the genre, as well as how filmmakers (and participatory audiences) apply them to it. To oversimplify it into a pitch, where movies such as Drag Me to Hell or the Scream series are about horror films, The Cabin in the Woods is about horror itself.

Dollhouse — Unaired Pilot and "Epitaph One"

I'll be honest: I picked up the Blu-Ray for the first season of Dollhouse as much if not more for the exclusive episodes as it did the season proper. While the back half of the season certainly grabbed my interest and mostly held it through the end, I found myself far more taken with the idea of watching both the original pilot, dumped when the networks called it "too dark and confusing" in favor of that tepid and largely pointless iteration that uneventfully debuted the show, as well as the fabled 13th episode, the post-apocalyptic "Epitaph One." When I got home to my PS3 I didn't even watch any of the aired episodes before diving into these bonus treats, and my thoughts on them are as follows:

[Note: This review avoids spoilers for the two episodes under discussion, but it assumes that you've seen the season's aired episodes]

Unaired Pilot -- "Echo"

The studio notes for this episode cited it as too confusing to appeal to a broad audience, the first sign that FOX would end up meddling with this show just as they had with Firefly before it. It (perhaps justifiably) put people on the defensive months before the show ever came out, and got the ball rolling on all the cancellation talk as well.

For all my love of artistic freedom, though, and especially for someone I adore as much as Joss Whedon, I'd have told him to re-write it as well. Where the studio feared that its tone would turn off the Idol crowd or something, I would have suggested that he simply cut the thing down a tad. For you see, "Echo" is a two-hour pilot extravaganza crammed into your average one-hour time slot. Even with the 5-10 extra minutes offered by that Remote-Free TV business, it simply contains too much plot, too many character moments and far, far too many answered questions.

For example, in this version of the pilot, we see Saunders' hatred of Topher, the Feds knowing too much about the Dollhouse to dismiss it, Boyd saying too much about the Dollhouse's evil before Whedon has fully established what a disgusting organization it is and, worst of all, Echo meeting Ballard. These scenes pepper the first five or six episodes of the season, and condensing them into one hour of TV gives us too much information about what should be a shadowy organization.

Nevertheless, it's a massive improvement over the version we got. "Ghost" didn't even feel like a Whedon-penned episode: its exposition was obvious to the point of cringe-inducing, this interesting world was ill-defined and, most surprising of all, it lacked humor. "Echo," as a strange contrast, contains too much of these elements. It's nice and clever, but it gives us too man details, and a running gag concerning Topher's use of the phrase "man-friend" simply grates (it actually builds to a nice dark one-liner from Boyd, then Topher uses the phrase once more later). Other lines contain real, working humor though, and for all the flaws of the Echo/Ballard interaction, it clearly set up Caroline's story far earlier, something that would have silenced a number of critics who cited the show as misogynistic for not immediately establishing a strong female lead. Rather than a revelation of Whedon's original, assured vision, "Echo" is more the polar opposite of the flaws of "Ghost" -- somewhere between the two lies the perfect pilot, but I'd likely place it on that line far closer to this.

Epitaph One

Now this is what I'm talking about. Joss Whedon is nothing if not bold: his four shows each contain wildly different tones, styles, approaches to humor, and themes, yet they all feature certain flourishes that make them immediately recognizable as his. His best work (as well as the best work of his finest writers) stands in open defiance of what might normally pass on TV, or that which takes him far out of his comfort zone (though the jury's still out on this show, which is one giant removal). I'm of course speaking of episodes such as "The Body," "Hush," "Objects in Space," and "Not Fade Away."

"Epitaph One" belongs on this list. Though neither written nor directed by Whedon, you can feel his guiding hand behind the script more than anywhere in the season's aired episodes, including one of the two that he wrote. It, more than "Man on the Street," "Spy in the House of Love" or either of the two parts of the finale, demonstrates that the show, despite its rocky opening and a continued set of unanswered, important questions (such as "What's the point of this anyway?"), indeed has a direction, and Whedon is a steady hand at the helm.

Set in 2019, ten years after Echo started exhibiting problems with her programming, "Epitaph One" shows us a world in chaos. A small band of filthy survivors moves through the streets of L.A., carrying with them a small child and her wiped father. At some point between now and the first season timeline, the Rossum Corporation (the owners of the Dollhouse) sold or allowed their technology to fall into other hands, and China discovered a way to imprint massive sections of the world populace in a manner similar to the cell call in "Gray Hour."

This group heads for the Dollhouse to find the imprinting chair to see if they can piece together what went wrong. They don't know what the construct really is, and when they discover that the institution that brought about the apocalypse was originally nothing more than a glorified whorehouse they don't know whether to laugh or find something to shoot.

They discover two things, though, that are far more important that the Dollhouse's original design. One is Whiskey, now scar-less and wiped, and the other a set of memories waiting to be uploaded into an Active. Through these memories we are given brief glimpses into the events that link the present with this horrible future, as well as character moments and even some relationship news. My favorite moments involved De Witt and Topher finally accepting the evil of their profession and their role in this cataclysm.

Giving us this information in the form of memories is a masterstroke, because memory is subjective. Some, perhaps all, of the scenes Whedon shows us could be slightly different if not outright false. We know that he's the king of continuity jokes, with callbacks and cross-references abounding in the Buffyverse, but this presentation ups the stakes: now the fans will look not only for these scenes to unfold but check up to see if anything differs.

"Epitaph One" is many things: thrilling, horrific, cerebral, gripping and darkly witty. Most of all, though, it is fearless. Written by his Doctor Horrible cohorts Maurissa Tancharoen and brother Jed Whedon, it's based on a pitch by Joss, one that would bring the high concept of the show to the fore while slashing the budget down to peanuts. Its predominantly hand-held direction (courtesy of David Solomon) lacks the spastic nature of shaky cam footage, and instead successfully creates a feeling of tension and realism without making us reach for the barf bags. Only someone with a firm grasp of a show's direction -- and let's not forget, Whedon also sowed hints for more than one future season in Buffy episodes "Graduation Day" and "Restless" -- would be so bold as to give away so much detail for a show's future. In anyone else's hands, something like "Epitaph One" would cause me worry. With Whedon holding the reins, however, it is a promise to the fans who stuck with this series out of faith in him that Dollhouse is going places, and I for one can't wait until September.

Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog

Let's go back to fall of 2007 for a moment: the new Golden Age of Television is about to end. Why? Because the WGA is set to go on strike in November. When it hit, the writer's strike effectively ruined the 2007/08 T.V. schedule, all because writers had the temerity to ask fair recompense from companies that made billions off of them without having to make a damn thing other than phone calls to advertisers. Actors and directors showed solidarity with the writers, and showrunners even halted production of pre-written episodes to join them on the picket lines. While all this happened, Joss Whedon, whose initial deal for Dollhouse was naturally postponed, needed something to sink his creative teeth into now that he finally decided to get back to writing. So what did he do? Oh, not much, other than try to change the entire model of television.


Now, let's get something straight: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is not the first legitimate web series; hell, it's not even the first legitimate web series made by one of its participants. Felicia Day's ongoing series The Guild has been a notable hit for its two seasons, and Day even inked a groundbreaking deal with Microsoft that actually earned her a profit for her work. Whedon was clearly taken by The Guild, so he brought Day, who had a minor role as one of two Potentials that were actually fun in the final season of Buffy, on-board just as soon as he figured out what he wanted to make.

As you might ascertain from the title, Joss, with the help of Maurissa Tancharoen and his brothers Zack and Jed, wrote a musical. One's mind naturally turns to the great and timeless Buffy episode "Once More, With Feeling," and those instincts would be fairly accurate: Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is, for all of its too-brief 43 minutes, a hysterical, acerbic, subversive and, in true Whedon fashion, brutally tragic ride that was easily the best thing to come out of the writer's strike.

And who better to play the titular Dr. Horrible, blogger-cum-supervillain wannabe, than Neil Patrick Harris who, in his words, helped invent the blog with his Doogie Howser character? Harris is wonderful as the cynical, ever-bemused Horrible; his recent roles, from his perverted self-parody in the Harold & Kumar films to his essentially cleaned-up-for-primetime Harold & Kumar part for the excellent sitcom How I Met Your Mother, generally see him as a cocksure lothario who's either desperate for a friend or a borderline psycho. But Whedon loves to challenge people, so Horrible is lovesick, awkward and insecure; he seeks to enter the Evil League of Evil, but because he wants to better mankind who to him don't understand how their ignorance hurts them.

In between his schemings, he pines for Penny (Day), the bookish activist who he sees at the laundromat three times a week. Horrible spends as much time trying to muster up the courage to ask her out as he does pleasing the nefarious Bad Horse, leader of the ELE, into gaining acceptance. He has a chance when she surprises him on the street and asks him to sign a petition to raise money for a homeless shelter, but he's busy stealing "wonderflonium" to power his new freeze ray. Things only get worse for our villain when the heroic Captain Hammer swoops in and foils Horrible's plans and, even worse, Penny falls for his arch-nemesis.

And that's just the first act! The rest is even funnier and more heartbreaking. The songs are all humorous, but they work outside of novelty; these are genuine show tunes, as ready-made to be sung by fans as anything you'd expect to hear on Broadway. There is also Whedonesque humor a-plenty, with a sizable majority of the lines being instant quotables. And the climax ends in the way you might expect from Joss, but he plays it perfectly. The phrase "I didn't know whether to laugh or cry" is so overused that it's meaningless these days, but the ending of Dr. Horrible may be the only time where I found that statement completely true. It's a transcendent moment that'll leave you wondering if Joss snuck in the tragedy under the laughs or vice versa.

But that's all just stuff on the surface, waiting to be enjoyed by anyone, Whedonite or neophyte. No, it's when you really start to dig into Dr. Horrible that you see its true genius. Joss' shows are all about subverting expectations, whether it be the hot blonde horror victim suddenly rising up and attacking those who would do her harm or a western in space. Horrible wants to be a feared supervillain, yet his motivations have that oddly benevolent bent to them, like a robot programmed to protect humanity that ends up attacking people to save them from themselves. In his normal life he is clearly shown to be a gentle, caring individual whose cynicism and misanthropy is born more of loneliness than insanity.

Captain Hammer, on the other hand, is narcissistic and churlish; the only reason he does not beat Dr. Horrible senseless in the first act is that an attractive woman clearly exhibits a crush on him, which he focuses all of his attention on exploiting. When he gives a speech in the third act about how "we're all heroes," it only displays his delusion and selfishness. There's also a delicious bit in his reaction to experiencing pain for the first time. That last part is a possible reference to the novelization of Serenity, in which, Fillion says (no, I didn't read it), author Keith DeCandido portrayed The Operative as a man so good at fighting that he never learned how to take a punch. I heard this little nugget on the Serenity cast commentary.

OK, that's probably not a solid link and the only thing I did was prove how sad I am. But this is so full of Whedon callbacks that anything's possible. He's not only subverting heroes and villains, he's subverting his own previous subversion of heroes and villains. And NPH isn't the only person he plays against type; Day plays a gaming shut-in on The Guild and in real life describes herself as a "misanthrope," yet Penny is optimistic and open, and she's doing her best to help other people. Fillion, naturally, thoroughly deconstructs Malcolm Reynolds by using Hammer as the perfect mirror image: where Reynolds was gruff but fiercely loyal and a capable leader, Hammer is vainglorious and irresponsible – he seems to be a hero solely for the fame and the women. He even makes a passing reference (in song, of course), that Penny might become the first woman he's ever had sex with twice.

If this perfectly constructed miniseries doesn't give you enough Whedon to fill you up – which is understandable considering that, combined, Dr. Horrible is barely as long as a single episode of one of his shows – then you should pay the paltry fee for the DVD, which boasts the magnificent Commentary! The Musical. Though it almost never references the actual series, Commentary! is a creation every bit as masterful as Dr. Horrible, even if they songs don't invite as much singing along. A tune about the writer's strike betrays Joss' bitterness over the whole thing and its outcome, while Maurisa's "Nobody's Asian" has a sting of truth behind her lines about how roles for Asians in Hollywood are few and far between. But don't let this convince you that the commentary is dour and cynical; it's brimming with in-jokes (including something about Fillion's delicious seven-bean dip) and tongue-in-cheek humor, but that level of darkness just makes it better.

As great as Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is on a surface and subtextual level, it's possibly even more exciting when you consider what it could mean for web shows. Shortly after the first act hit the web, the servers of drhorrible.com crashed for days and the initial DVD-R offered exclusively through Amazon was the #3 highest-selling DVD shortly after release and even at the time of this writing remains in the top 50.

While its financial success certainly doesn't prove that the future is here when it comes to independent production: Whedon himself recently mentioned that we still need studios for more epic works. But if an established auteur like Whedon can make something this brilliant with no budget and total creative freedom, who's to say that the notion of at least small-scale productions isn't possible within the next 10-15 years? Even if it isn't, even if we never get the rumored sequel or some other Web project from Joss, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is a near-perfect little slice of heaven whose deceptively simple structure entertains with every viewing.

Dear God No: Joss-less 'Buffy' Film in Works

Wrapping up Serenity and, on a larger scale, a multi-month retrospective of the work of my favorite T.V. auteur gave me a sense of bittersweet release. I will certainly watch it all again, much of it before the year is up, but working through his series takes an emotional toll on viewers. I actually spent my Sunday in a funk because I felt almost directionless after reaching my goal. And just as the gloominess finally lifted, I went on over to Whedonesque to make my daily check-and-see-if-I-can-register-finally look around, only to spot an article that chilled my blood more than ever before.

According to The Hollywood Reporter:

A new incarnation of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" could be coming to the big screen.

"Buffy" creator Joss Whedon isn't involved and it's not set up at a studio, but Roy Lee and Doug Davison of Vertigo Entertainment are working with original movie director Fran Rubel Kuzui and her husband, Kaz Kuzui, on what is being labeled a remake or relaunch, but not a sequel or prequel.

Just when I think I'm out, they pull me right back in.

You read that right: Fran and Kaz Kuzui, the people who brought Joss Whedon into the limelight only to jeopardize his career at the start with their neutered take on his vision with the 1992 original film of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, are planning a reboot. Without Joss' involvement. And here we all were thinking FOX was terrible.

I'll be perfectly honest, I'm still not sure this isn't just a good prank, despite quotes from Fran Kuzui that confirm the story. Ergo, I don't want to completely lapse into a fanboyish rage lest I look like a fool. Then again, I'd look like a fool if I did so regardless of the article's merit -- it's since been corroborated on several publications, notably EW -- so let me instead rationally iron out why this is, as objectively as I can process it, one of the worst ideas I've ever heard and why it should never be brought up again.

Right off the bat, the justification for such a move seems ludicrous. Several have pointed to recent, highly successful reboots of such disparate series as the Batman, Star Trek, and Battlestar Galactica franchises to suggest that this Buffy remake might not be as terrible as your brain -- and your heart -- might lead you to believe. The problem with this line of thinking is that the franchises cited all had strong followings, but the franchises themselves were deeply flawed. The original Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica, for all their charm, were overly campy with low production values (BSG wasn't that bad, though), and they aged terribly. Even JJ Abrams' optimistic take on Star Trek introduced a darker tone than the one that underscored the original and even The Next Generation, while the post-9/11 take on BSG made what had originally been little more than a Star Wars knockoff into one of the most complex dramas on television.

Buffy doesn't have that problem. For one thing, it's barely over a decade old, and it's yet to age. Now, I'm not promising that the series will never seem dated, but I am confident that the subtlety of the acting and the quality of most of the scripts will give it a much longer shelf life than the old sci-fi series. The only thing that potentially could use a touch-up are some of the demon costumes (the same holds true for Angel). But effects will always date; the important thing is that the stories were as fresh for me when I watched the series for the first time last year as they must have been to fans back in 1997. Furthermore, the show itself was a reboot of the original movie: when Joss got the T.V. deal -- admittedly with the help of the Kuzuis -- he took the light, campy tone of the film and spun it into a dark, thematically rich series with enough character development to fill ten normal programs. At the end of the final season, the characters wouldn't even recognize the people we met in the first episode, having been through so many upheavals that only the core of their personality remained constant.

What, then, could a reboot bring to the table? Kuzui says she'd like to make a "darker, event-sied movie" to carve out new territory in the Buffyverse; I assume she means "darker" in comparison to other event movies, because how on Earth could she make Joss' series any more dire? Put them all in a concentration camp? This is the man who killed off characters with an almost casual coldness, yet never made any of them feel unnecessary nor like a ratings ploy. He ripped apart Buffy's world more times than most could bear to endure, to the point that she actually sacrificed herself to keep the last thing she had in this world alive. Willow suffered tragedy and went mad, and poor Xander was maimed. The idea that you could make a two-hour film that could contain all this and more borders on the insane.

Of course, they at least don't have to worry about upping the ante on our favorite characters, because none of them will be in it. Yes, supposedly the film "would have no connection to the TV series, nor would it use popular supporting characters like Angel, Willow, Xander or Spike." It would also not feature Sarah Michelle Gellar. No, the focus would be on either a recast Buffy or another slayer entirely, in a different place, in a different time. Why call it a Buffy remake then? Kevin Beaumont, the webmaster of Dollverse and a regular contributor to Whedonesque (under the name gossi) puts it succinctly: "$$$$$$$$$$$$." Buffy has name recognition, and tying it to the franchise avoids allegations of plagiarism as this is really nothing more than a Buffy knockoff.

However, Beaumont underestimates, in my opinion of course, fan reaction. He alleges that the average viewer will not understand what Joss' absence means as they do not recognize his name over Buffy's. While to some extent I believe he's right, I also think that the internet, which has yet to sustain hype, could conceivably get people to steer clear. If this project is not shut down -- and to be honest, Fox's lawyers will likely make mincemeat of Vertigo Entertainment -- Whedonesque and every other fan site on the web will organize "boycotts" and do their best to spread the word.

But fans won't be the only ones against this: Buffy the film was justifiably dismissed by most critics, but the T.V. series stands as a cultural landmark and one of the most praised series of the last 20 years. Only a few critics seem to outright hate the show, and many of those people for arbitrary reasons; the rest recognize it for its superb character growth and its examination of feminist themes. They're going to rail against this as well, and people will trust a professional critic more than us nerds and bloggers. They'll have their claws out months before this film could hypothetically make it all the way to a theater and, combined with what is sure to be a terrible word of mouth, they'll destroy this movie's box office potential.

Now, in fairness, I'm reacting quite strongly to something that hasn't even been written yet. Who's to say that it will be terrible? I mean, the furor over the BSG re-imagining was huge, but that didn't stop it from mopping the floor with the original. While I don't think anyone, even the haters, think that this could possibly beat out the series, surely it at least stands a chance to be interesting? Well, maybe, but the central problem with all of this does not come from Kuzui's comments, but the Reporter's own take on things. They rightly kept opinion out of the news piece, but they throw in a poll at the end of the article that sums up exactly what's motivating this and exactly why it will fail:


It's long been a misconception that Joss had a weak eye for casting, and that he really picks his actors based on how he gets along with them. With the exception of Fillion as Mal, the leads for all of his shows have been routinely criticized by people as flat without ever noticing how perfect for the part every major character was. SMG changed with Buffy, and if people don't like her in the later seasons it's because the character has become so different than the person they met in '97. When I watch Dollhouse, I can't understand why people insist on bringing up Faith when Dushku has yet to play any of her imprints as such, even the ass-kicking ones (in fairness, the previews for some episodes suggested this, though), nor did she play Faith on True Calling: while she may not always connect with her shifting personalities, she's played Echo differently than the other Dolls because Echo is different. I saw an article recently, one of the umpteen stories that inexplicably pits Whedon against JJ Abrams, and it said that Abrams had a gift for casting where Whedon fell short. Hogwash; Whedon can take a total unknown and make them live and breathe the part. Abrams, though not one to pick star names, focuses on making the characters iconic and memorable over letting the actors explore their characters (he's still got some fantastic characters, mind you, and I'm not at all turning this into a Whedon v. Abrams debate).

This poll shows that people really just want to put a "star" in the role. That's what it's all about: not a desire to explore a universe that is still being explored and fleshed out by its creator, it's an attempt to cash in on a beloved franchise. And of course Kristen Stewart brings up the inevitable truth that when Kuzui says "Everything has its moment. Every movie takes on a life at some point, and this seems like the moment to do this," what she really means is that vampires are hot right now because of Twilight, and there's a fat paycheck in it for them.

The Kuzuis have gotten rich off of Joss Whedon: they received executive producer status on every episode of both Buffy and Angel and they retain the rights to the core character (but not Xander, Willow, etc. which is why the film won't feature them). While they don't rule out Joss' involvement, it's a slap in the face that they would enter talks without consulting him. But all of this opens up a very strange, very interesting possibility: in the same year that Fox renewed Dollhouse (though they tampered mightily with it, of course) despite abysmal Nielsen ratings, opening up the possibility that time-shifted numbers might finally play a role in shows' fates, how wonderful would it be if they also killed this unholy beast before it ever came to fruition? It'd be like Spike getting a soul. Well, more like a chip that lets him still be an ass as often as he pleases. But now he doesn't kill the things we love, at least not outright, and that's a start.

Serenity

It's perhaps somewhat appropriate that I wrap up my 7-month Whedon binge with the film that got me into the man in the first place. I never saw Serenity in the theaters; I even remember regarding the commercials as promoting some sort of Star Wars knockoff -- it didn't help that it came out the same year that George Lucas finished destroying his own legacy. No, I didn't watch it until it hit DVD, and a friend brought a copy to some sleepover in late '05. I had know idea who or what a Firefly was, I didn't know that Joss Whedon was the fella that made that Buffy the Vampire Slayer I made such a point of ignoring; I just sat down and watched the thing.

What I got was one of the most original, hilarious, and heartbreaking science fiction films I'd seen in years. The entire two hours was chock full of action, wit and those little moments that make everything so much better -- be it a conversation or even just a fleeting change of body language. Even though Serenity picks up where the show left off, it made me care enough about these character that I was moved when tragedy befell them. Which it did. A lot.

Serenity opens with a flashback, depicting Simon Tam's rescue of his sister, River, from whatever indoctrination center is experimenting on her. The scene ends to reveal it was all a hologram playback, viewed by a mysterious Alliance assassin known only as The Operative (Chiwetel Ejiofor). He kills the men in charge for allowing such a prized possession to escape, and sets about hunting down the modified psychic.

So, he seeks out Malcolm Reynolds' beloved rust bucket, run by the same kooky crew, minus a few hands who have settled elsewhere in the interim between the show's events and this narrative. He even takes River on a job, now aware of her ability to read minds, over her brother's loud protests. It is on this heist that we see our first Reavers on-screen -- either here or the T.V. show -- terrifying creatures who rape and eat anyone they capture alive. They give Mal and co. a thrilling chase, yet we still get some choice lines in the middle of the harrowing ordeal.

For the rest of the movie, Mal must contend with Reavers, The Operative, and even River, whom we discover can be triggered into becoming an incredible fighter with the right subliminal code. For a film based on such a sprawling series, Serenity wastes no time getting down to the nitty-gritty, moving from witty, interactive early scenes into some nice political satire in short order. Inara and Shepherd Book reemerge as The Operative chases down any lead to lure Mal out of hiding, though sadly their parts were cut down in editing. As The Operative attempts to... extract information from those unlucky enough to cross paths with him, we seem him come to stand for the Alliance he blindly follows: he says he believes he is helping to create "a world without sin," yet he is perfectly willing to cast aside his humanity to achieve it.

As Mal leads the ship into the depths of Reaver space to discover just what secret The Operative is trying to bury with River, the assassin's mission comes to match a terrible piece of the Alliance's past that serves as an intriguing attack on Big Brother-esque governments, examining the idea that an attempt to create utopia through force and bloodshed with never succeed. Whedon has to pack an entire season's -- and maybe even more; in the commentary, Joss mentions that the discovery of the Reaver planet about 2/3 into the film marked the end of the planned second season -- worth of theme and exposition into a film, yet he never lets his directorial debut feel like a retread of the show.

Whedon, of course, has directed a number of episodes of each of his series, and in those episodes he displayed an ability to get the very best out of his actors and to balance humor and bleak drama better than almost any "real" director you'd care to mention. Even if does, as he put it, "amp" it up for the big screen, he never loses track of his characters, to the point that, in some ways, this is as good an introduction to the series as the series works to establish the film. Under his direction, Fillion and the rest look like they've always been movie stars, even though Ejiofor is the only one who regularly appears in major features. He even pulls off his low budget, imbuing the frankly iffy special effects with such energy that you're too exhilarated to care. Then again, the giant space battle near the end is a true sight to behold, with so many ships piled into the screen you'd swear someone was magnificently overcompensating. Really, every single frame burns with the excitement of a man who knows that, by all accounts, he shouldn't be making this movie, and that's what makes Serenity such a perenially-rewarding journey.

The only real flaws of the movie are that, by nature of running length and an attempt for universal appeal, the Western element is somewhat lost, and we just can't spend the kind of time with these characters that T.V. allows. But Whedon turns the project into a deftly-constructed space opera, just about the most entertaining since the original Star Wars films. For all its political and social undertones, the movie is about faith: not in God, but in humanity. As dark as Whedon's scripts can be, he has a fundamental understanding of human emotions and interaction, and that sensibility makes Serenity a joy every bit as much as the action sequences. The only science fiction film this decade that I think can best it is the superb Children of Men (also starring Chiewetel Ejiofor).

After I saw this for the first time, I went out and grabbed Firefly a few months later and was blown away. I didn't get around to Buffy and Angel for years -- owing to my general avoidance of horror -- but I watched this crew tool around the 'Verse so many times I more than made up for it. When I finally got around to Joss' other work, I couldn't believe what I'd denied myself. Now, as his latest series gets off to a rocky yet ultimately rewarding start, I can't help but regard Serenity even more fondly than when it first rocked my world. Without it, I might never have come to discover the man who has since become far and away my favorite writer in entertainment. So if that colors my perspective, makes me subjective, even fanboyish, I don't care; Serenity surpasses every possible expectation you can place on the spinoff feature film of a canceled T.V. series, and I'm living proof that it's as capable of winning over new fans as any one of his excellent programs.

Firefly

You know, every so often I find myself wondering what all the fuss over Firefly is about. It was a show canceled almost out of the starting gate, and viciously tampered with in its brief run on the air. When the suited monkeys at FOX pulled the plug after airing only 11 of their initial 14-episode order -- and most of them wildly out of sequence -- they received an astonishing amount of fan reaction, given that they did everything in their power to prevent this show from gaining a following. Why then did it resonate with people? Why did it sell so many DVDs that Universal bought the rights to make a proper blockbuster out of it? And why do fans continue to hold conventions to express their appreciation for the actors and crew who barely got the time to establish their characters and the universe they inhabited?

Then I sit down with it for a few days, and all those questions just seem silly. Yes, it never got to build on its potential, and as such remains no more than a fascinating experiment, but I firmly believe that Firefly, not Buffy, would be Joss Whedon's defining creation had things worked out differently. It may have only had 14 episodes with which to set down some sort of Orson Scott Card-cum-Western universe, but damned if it didn't work. Frankly, I don't know how something this ambitious even made it to the air in the first place, especially on FOX.

Whedon sets the bar impossibly high with the two-hour premiere, titled "Serenity," an episode that did not air until 9 others preceded it, because -- you know, what, if I stop every time to point out where FOX did this show wrong, I'll never get through this review. Suffice to say, it makes no sense to dump this pilot, as it is one of the best and deepest series premieres ever made. Then again, I didn't get the full impact of its brilliance until at least the third time I watched it, so perhaps the decision wasn't made entirely out of greed and stupidity.

I don't know why exactly it took so long for the pilot to click with me, as Whedon doesn't waste a single second of its two-hour length. The opening battle introduces us to then-sergeant Malcolm Reynolds (Nathan Fillion) and Zoe (Gina Torres), two rebel soldiers on their last legs as something called the Alliance sends in ships to bomb them to oblivion. Whedon drenches these moments in shadow, lighting the scene up only when a bomber puts another crater in the planet. Six years later, Malcolm's the captain of his very own ship, a deteriorating, Firefly-class cargo ship, Zoe's married the pilot Wash (Alan Tudyk), and an innocent little pixie named Kaylee (Jewel Staite) keeps the hunk of metal running. They may not have much, but this ragtag crew will follow their captain to the ends of the 'Verse. Well, except for mercenary Jayne (Adam Baldwin), who will happily sell the rest into slavery if the money's good.

Mal and co. make their living salvaging derelicts and delivering smuggled goods to buyers and sellers. When an Alliance cruiser busts their raid, the Serenity has a hard time offloading their booty, and they stop on a planet to pick up some passengers: a "shepherd" (preacher) by the name of Book (Ron Glass); Simon Tam (Sean Maher), a young doctor looking to get off-world without Alliance attention; and some mystery dude who is bound to cause some sort of trouble. Also accompanying the crew is Inara (Morena Baccarin), a member of the ultra-high class escort class known as the Companions, who uses the Serenity's built-in shuttle to meet her engagements. When mystery dude turns out to be a Fed, we discover that Simon smuggled his sister River (Summer Glau) on-board, and the two are fugitives running from the Alliance.


The pilot wastes no time fleshing out these characters. Despite a story that takes some big turns, "Serenity" is so great because it's really made up of countless tiny moments, from Wash at the helm playing with toy dinosaurs, to Book quickly disabling the Fed: Whedon, the man responsible for a great many of the best-developed characters to ever grace television, makes hs earlier efforts look like child's play. There's more development in this single pilot than the entire first season of Buffy.

But the pilot is no fluke; Whedon and his writers packed each episode so full of character development that attempting to discuss the show on an episodic basis is futile. Believe me I know: there's a 5000-word version of this post that's as much a tribute to wheel-spinning as it is a review of this show. The plots, good as they are, come a distant second to the characters; this is true of all of Whedon's shows of course (well, not Dollhouse, but that's new and not yet fully explored), but Firefly plays like 5 seasons worth of Whedon T.V. rolled into one.

Book, the kindly preacher, has a murky past, bits of which surface in was that simply make the details even fuzzier. Jayne loves his guns so much that, when Mal somehow finds himself married to a subservient farm girl, he offers the Cap his most prized possession -- a gun he dubs "Vera" -- to trade for the attractive stowaway. His loyalty to the highest bidder comes into play when he betrays the Tams for a fat bounty in the gripping "Ariel," and even in Mal's oxygen-deprived flashbacks in "Out of Gas." Simon, who comes off as foppish and sheltered, reveals a deep love for his sister and a willingness to lose everything to protect her. Zoe and Wash have just about the most stable relationship ever seen in the Jossverse, but occasionally Wash can't help but feel jealous over Zoe and Mal's extremely close -- and extremely platonic -- relationship.

Mal, of course, is another beast entirely. As objectively as I can view a piece of entertainment, I'd without a doubt rate Mal as one of the best-written, most interesting characters in Joss' or anyone else's shows. (Personally, I'd rank him second only behind Fred in my list of favorite Whedon creations). He's always interested about getting the job done and isn't at all afraid to make some seemingly heartless decisions, yet he cares for anyone under his charge like family: when Simon and River are kidnapped by zealous hill folk in "Safe," Mal comes to rescue them and, when Simon asks why the Captain came back for them, he simply responds that Simon and River are a part of the crew. But for all his professionalism, he has an unflinching ability to turn even the calmest situation into a brawl, at which point his ability to take an obscene amount of punishment benefits him: these altercations range from hilarious (the duel in "Shindig") to terrifying (the torture in "War Stories"). Even more interesting are the moments when his steely resolve comes to the fore, such as the downright fearsome coldness in his eyes when he breaks free of his torturers in "War Stories."

As with the rest of Whedon's "families," one person keeps everyone else together, no matter how bad things get. Buffy had Willow, then Xander, Angel had Fred, and Firefly has Kaylee, an irrepressible ray of sunshine who just so happens to be a mechanical genius. As Mal so rightly puts it, "I don't believe there's a power in the 'Verse that can keep Kaylee from bein' cheerful." When the Fed shoots her in the gut in the pilot, the entire crew rallies to save her and no one seems a mite concerned about killing Simon for indirectly causing it all -- as with Willow in the early seasons of Buffy, Joss isn't above putting her in jeopardy constantly to ratchet up the drama. Though Jayne makes a number of crass jokes at her expense, everyone clearly cares for her, particularly Inara, who constantly fields Kaylee's doe-eyed wonder without a hint of condescension.


As a matter of fact, my single favorite scene in the series involves Kaylee. In "Shindig," Kaylee spots a, frankly, gaudy dress in a window shop but nevertheless regards it as she does Inara's finest clothing. When Mal needs to sneak into an upper crust party to speak with a potential client -- the fact that Inara's there has nothing to do with it, of course -- he shows up with Kaylee, frilly dress and all, in hand. Now, I'm a very empathetic person: pretty much everything but non-Whedon television can move me to tears, and I feel shame for those too drunk or dumb to feel it for themselves. I literally watch Ricky Gervais' shows through my fingers as if they were horror films. Yet when Kaylee stumbles into the middle of high society wearing what looks like a pink Christmas tree, it never once occurs to me to be embarrassed for her. Jane Espenson turns the cliché on its head, instantly shutting down the snotty aristocrats who jeer her and making her the star of the ball without resorting to some insulting Pygmalion-like "transformation," with men listening rapturously as she gives them the skinny on the best and worst ships you can buy. I can't tell you how thrilled I was that they never paraded such a sweet character around for a cheap laugh.

As I've already noted, picking highlights from this set is a fool's errand. If you're in the mood to laugh, try "Jaynestown," in which Jayne returns to a planet he raided years ago, only to find out that the money he unwittingly dumped to break out of the atmosphere made him a folk hero. Or you can go with Whedon's own "Our Mrs. Reynolds," in which Mal wakes up from a drunken celebration to find himself betrothed to the sort of woman Joss has made a career to "liberate." Quotable lines abound as the rest of the crew reacts with various degrees of amusement and disgust, but the choicest quote has to go to Book warning Mal of taking advantage of the girl who seems so anxious to please her new beau: "You'll go to a special level of hell reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theater."

But, as with all Whedon, the cream of the crop comes with pitch blackness. The de facto finale, "Objects in Space," casts River's madness and bounty hunter Jubal Early's sadism against the cold nothingness of space, giving the whole thing a certain existential feel without ever letting itself get too smart to neglect the well-paced plot. Early himself is a masterstroke of a one-off villain, providing a nice contrast for River but with a terrifying lack of morals -- he casually threatens to rape Kaylee if she, and later Simon, do not help him. The aforementioned "War Stories" turns Niska from the somewhat cartoony Bond-esque villain from "The Train Job" and makes him truly frightening, though not as scary as Mal when we meet his "true" self (though the attempted group therapy Mal and Wash hold as they're being electrocuted is pretty gorram funny). Jayne's betrayal in "Ariel" sets up one of the best thrillers in the Jossverse; one of the chief problems of Joss' shows is that the writers hold back as much information as they can so they can sucker punch you all at once, but by knowing that Jayne is selling out River and Simon long before it happens, the entire episode is chilling, and it only gets better when two mysterious agents start killing everyone in their path to get to their targets -- including fellow Alliance personnel).


If I must pick a favorite, though, I'd have to go with Tim Minear's hallucinatory "Out of Gas." Kaylee spent the first few episodes casually mentioning something about a faulty catalyzer, and it dies at last, leaving the ship with no power and no life support. Pieced together out of sequence, in some ways it strikes me as representative of the constant tampering with the show, only here it's put to artistic use. And now that I revisit the show after going through Joss' other series, I can't help but think of it as Firefly's version of "Fool for Love" or "Selfless": it acknowledges the Serenity as a character all its own and, like Spike and Anya, charts its evolution, though instead of clothes or relationships, it advances as each person joins the crew.

For many people, the show's mixture of cyberpunk and classic Westerns made it unpalatable, but I fail to see the problem: at their cores, science fiction and Westerns are about explorations, of lawless, unexplored frontiers where man is only answerable to his conscience, or the conscience of a mob. The characters certainly fit easily into Western archetypes: Mal as the ex-Confederate (though he never fought for the right to keep slaves) making his way in the desert -- or space, as the case may be; the Alliance the bureaucracy seeking to tame the wild beauty even as it also conforms to an Ender's Game-like evil government; and Book, the man of God with the terrible past. The Reavers of course stand in for the "savages," though you could truly call these men savage. Even the guns are a throwback, with Zoe's weapon in particular being a direct rip from Steve McQueen's rifle in Wanted: Dead or Alive (the actual gun was the same prop used for Brisco County, Jr.). While it can be jarring to go from mining dead ships in space to a dusty frontier town, the overall tone never shifts wildly enough to create a disparity between the two styles.

So yes, Firefly will go down as the greatest "what if?" series in T.V. and not the best show ever made. Its fans will eventually give up entirely on the possibility of a sequel to either the series or the spinoff film, though they'll still host convention after convention (good). I don't know how it could have ever run for more than a few seasons, even if its massive budget wasn't an issue. Nevertheless, I've never seen a show so abused and so short make such a good argument for its greatness. As much as I can't simply dive into the middle of Buffy or Angel, I find myself glued to my TV for a few days every time I break this out (and I've been watching Firefly a great deal longer than the rest). The show's rich tapestry of character interaction and an ingrained sense of continuity only made Dollhouse's disappointing failure to establish a solid mythology for itself with its first season more glaring -- I'm not casting aspersions, mind you; Dollhouse is an entirely different show. Dollhouse might be Joss' most ambitious show thematically and stylistically, but Firefly more than matches it in scope. What a shame it only got to be the martyr.

The 25 Best (and Five Worst) Buffy Episodes

[WARNING- CONTAINS SPOILERS]

Few shows grabbed me as immediately as Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Even in its shaky, skin-deep first season, it displayed enough quirky wit and character development to keep me interested. But from that campy, American horror version of Doctor Who came one of the greatest character dramas ever put on television. While I prefer the darker tone of its spinoff Angel, I cannot deny that Buffy The Vampire Slayer is the bigger beast, and one of the greatest shows of the modern era. But unlike Angel, picking the best episodes of this series is fairly straightforward; I imagine my top 25 would not differ wildly from any other fan's, and I'm almost certain the top 10 I came up with contains the exact episodes in everyone else's, give or take one or two and with differing orders based on the ranker's preference. Of course, this doesn't mean that there are only 25 good episodes, but that the payoffs of this show are more apparent than the more subdued tone of Angel. And even though most of us pick the same episodes, the best of Buffy varied considerably in tone, where Angel's highlights tended to be the ones that plunged it to knew depths of existential despair. But enough talk, let's get down to business:

25. Villains (6x20)

While the Dark Willow arc occasionally seeped into the realm of the overly melodramatic, it remains a high point of the show, and "Villains" is the single strongest of the four episodes. Willow's been building to this all season, and she really comes unhinged in a terrifying way in these 42 minutes. Alyson Hannigan was, like most of the actors on both Buffy and Angel, so effortless and natural in her acting as to almost pass under the radar, but here she unleashes with fine fury. I never thought someone so cute and unassuming could be so terrifying -- not even her alternate reality vampire-self pointed to this level of horror. The final scene with Warren must be one of the two the most shocking of the series.

24. The Zeppo (3x13)

This has no lasting importance to the third season arc, but it is one of the more brilliant high concept episodes of the show. In it, the typical A/B plot structure is turned on its head, pulling Xander's quest to figure out his importance to his friends and his own sense of self-worth while shuffling a (presumably) action-packed apocalypse prevention story to the background. It is likely the series' most instantly quotable episode and remains my favorite of that short but oh so sweet list of Xander-centric episodes.

23. The Wish (3x09)

Hi Anya! "The Wish" introduces what would become one of my favorite characters in a fantastic alternate reality episode in which Buffy never came to Sunnydale. It is equal parts disturbing and disturbingly hilarious, though the character deaths at the end are rather sobering and show just how close their real-life doppelgangers come to death at every moment. I actually felt my heart skip when the Master snaps alternate-Buffy's neck.

22. Doppelgangland (3x16)

Of course this would have to come right along with "The Wish." Seeing Vamp Willow interact with the real Willow is both funny and foreshadowing ("I think I'm kinda gay"), but it also gets across a deep level of character development and arc advancement. While it bears little importance to the bigger arc, this episode stands as likely the best example of Season 3's impeccable ability to move things forward without ever letting on.

21. Earshot (3x18)

What starts as an amusing concept (Buffy can read minds and thus hears the salacious simple-mindedness of the men around her and learns just what Joyce and Giles did under the influence of band candy) turns into a harrowing post-Columbine drama, even though it was written before that terrible tragedy. It takes yet another twist at the end which, though it moves away from a school attack, is every bit as relevant to examining the mindset of kids who snap. A true gem.

20. I Only Have Eyes For You (2x19)

One of the big sleeper hits of the series. It starts off seemingly as a disconnected, kooky concept and ends up eerily holding up the mirror to Buffy and Angel's relationship when the spirits of two dead lovers -- a teacher who incurred the wrath of the student she loved when she broke it off -- imbibe them. The possession ends up bringing out Buffy's guilt in unleashing Angelus while serving to remind us that Angel is still buried in that demon, even without his soul.

19. After Life (6x03)

The opening salvo of season six immediately put to bed my fears in reviving Buffy after her noble death in the last season's finale. This early mini-arc culminates in the darkly atmospheric "After Life," in which Buffy confesses to Spike that they did not rescue her from Hell, but tore her from Heaven. Many complain that Buffy went too dark this season, but thank God they never shied away from the implications of this episode.

18. Superstar (4x17)

Probably the funniest spin on fanfic ever. Watching little Jonathan make himself into a combination of Buffy, Superman, James Bond and Bill Gates was a riot and a half, and then you mix in everyone's fawning adulation and you've got a winner. You can see a lot of the initial antagonism of Season Six in this episode, what with a nerd manipulating others in an unethical yet pitiable attempt to fit in. Bonus points for finally turning Marc Blucas' lack of talent into intentional comedy (they also managed this in the season finale).

17. Lies My Parents Told Me (7x17)

Just when you thought you couldn't learn anything else about Spike. Buffy's most fascinating character gets yet another episode to shine, this time revealing the tragedy of his relationship with his mother and hammering home just how different a vampire he was long before he fought to win his soul. The juxtaposition between Spike's and Robin's relationships with their mothers is brutally effective. It also finally breaks Buffy of her dependency on Giles.

16. Chosen (7x22)

Season 7, though action packed and never really dull, too often neglected its characters at the expense of just making everything bigger. Funnily enough, the biggest episode of them all managed to make it all worth it. It ended up a stunning action climax mixed with moving character and story resolution, all of which remained true to the characters. And I dare you not to cry when you realize it's all over.

15. Conversations With Dead People (7x07)

After a season exploring the very depths of Buffy's constant inner turmoil, the writers let her really flounder throughout much of the final season, but she gets across some astonishing late-game progress in this episode, which also advances most of the other characters. Andrew and Jonathan reappear, only for the two more innocent members of the Trio to suddenly take a dark turn. And anything and everything to do with Dawn's segment (in which the First poses as Joyce) is just shiver-inducing. It also marks the first -- and one of the only -- time that The First Evil really unsettled.

14. Who Are You? (4x16)

"Face/Off" with hot chicks. I could stop there, but that would rob a superb hour of TV its due. Faith's body swap with Buffy could have been played up for laughs or just been unintentionally hilarious, but -- apart from a few amusing bits -- it mainly serves to get deep down into what they each think of each other and particularly brings out the more sympathetic and wretched side of Faith. It's also genuinely suspenseful and marks one of the few times the Watchers Counsel comes off as frightening instead of just a complete annoyance.

13. Normal Again (6x17)

Mix the finale of the show "St. Elsewhere" with the early alternate reality gem "The Wish," then add a dash of "The Twilight Zone" and you've got a recipe for the most fundamentally disturbing hour of Buffy ever produced, made all the more unsettling by the fact that you never know which reality is the true one. It's also darkly funny when the doctor lists all the plot holes and contrivances of the show to convince Buffy that Sunnydale and Slaying are just a hallucination. And, like any good piece of head-screwing, it leaves us totally unsure of whether or not it all really was just a fabrication.

12. Selfless (7x05)

I make no bones of my love for Anya, so this ranking might be biased. Then again, this whole list is because I made it and I can only speak for myself, so leave me alone. We finally learn what motivates Anya and we see her start to create her own sense of identity after so many centuries defining herself by that which is related to her (vengeance demon, Xander's gal). On the humorous side, there some nice winking references to her past as a virulent communist, and the scenes from 880 are only more funny as they're shot in the style of an old hand-cranked camera as if they were really in 50s America (which itself is a sly reference to how little a difference there is between the sexism of these medieval warriors and a moment of our own past we've yet to fully outgrow).

11. Innocence (2x14)

The episode that firmly established Buffy's direction. Before this, the series was little more than a subversive take on horror clichés with flashes of pathos and depth, but even Joss believes that this episode drew a line in the sand, establishing just what the writers could do and what the series could achieve. Even years later, he Angelus arc remains untopped for many fans, and it's not hard to see why even from this arc-opener. Also, it contains the best demon killing of the series ("What's that do?").

10. Graduation Day, Pt. 2 (3x22)


People say Season 3 was short on emotional impact, and they're right. But who can ignore the visceral thrill of this finale, which packs action on top of action and sends Sunnydale High out in the best possible way. For many (including myself), they never found a better villain than the Mayor ever again -- even though I prefer seasons 5 and 6-- and he goes out in top form. There may be no single episode of any of Joss' programs as exhilarating at this.

9. Fool For Love (5x07)


I've explained my Achilles heel for Buffyverse flashback episodes in my Angel reviews, so let's get right down to the meat: "Fool For Love" is a subtle gem that shows how Spike grew from a timid, awful poet into the killer of two Slayers. It does so in the form of slowly piecing together the modern physical appearance of Spike, from his hair (which goes from naturally brunette and wavy to blond and curly and finally to the streaked platinum we know) to his coat. As the pieces come together, we see why a soulless vampire might fall for a Slayer, and that Spike was always more than meets the eye.

8. Dead Things (6x13)


For the first half of Season Six, the Trio dicked around and basically were like the Three Stooges of Evil (with a liberal dash of Kevin Smith-esque pop culture arguments). But with "Dead Things," we see the boys cross a threshold that forces them to finally confront serious consequences of their actions. Meanwhile, it gets to the core of Buffy's post-resurrection issues without letting her off with any simple solutions. Few episodes of this or any other series are as psychologically dark and complex. It got Season Six back on the track to excellence after a noticeable downturn in the middle.

7. Passion (2x17)


"Innocence" matured the show, but "Passion" showed just how dark Joss Whedon could go. Angelus' cold, swift killing of Jenny remains forever seared into my mind, and it is the most shocking moment of the show, even above Willow skinning Warren. This episode leaves me numb whenever I watch it. Yes, Angelus may have been little more than a mustache-twirling villain, but the greatest villain of all time (Iago) had no motivation, and look how scary he is. Boreanaz's acting throughout the first season was at the very least borderline laughable, but he brought his A-game when Angelus emerged, and this is the finest example of how far he could go.

6. Hush (4x10)


Some people say that Joss Whedon desperately wanted an Emmy and created his most out-there concepts to win one. I don't know if that's true, but if it is, I'm almost glad he never got one because it means we kept getting some of the best TV ever made. The first of these high concept pieces, "Hush," remains a deserved fan favorite and the episode that even non-fans know. Robbing the characters of the speech that makes them so funny was daring, but it resulted in a brilliant silent comedy with vital character and story development. Special props go to Giles' flashcards, which made a barnstorming reappearance in the seventh season.

5. Once More, With Feeling (6x07)


What better foil to an episode of silence than a musical? It's so funny that it's easy to miss all the rich character development, but there's a lot of pathos buried in these peppy numbers, the sort of narrative and character progression absent from nearly any other musical show or film. The Anya/Xander bit hints towards Xander's fears about becoming his father and points towards the dissolution of their engagement, while Spike gets to let off some steam over his confusion regarding Buffy's new attitude. And nothing can compare to SMG morosely admitting (through song, of course) to her friends just what they did when they resurrected her.

4. Restless (4x22)


Released a full year before David Lynch got back on the horse after a decade of misfires with "Mullholland Dr.," "Restless" is the best and worthiest successor to "Twin Peaks:" an endlessly deep, ambiguous, foreboding and complex dreamscape. After a season full of rich but sporadic character growth, it forces the heroes to find their footing and sets up the show to come. Each of the dream sequences has something that earns a good laugh, but soon it spirals into cryptic and disturbing warnings to the slumbering Scoobies. The fact that this is not number one should be telling you something about the fierce quality of the top three.

3. The Gift (5x22)


Really, only one season finale in the series ("Grave") was less than excellent, but "The Gift" stands out even among its brethren. As with the whole season, it manages to cram the action and character reaffirmations of S3 with the intense emotional force of the second season. The fight with Glory is spectacular (not to mention full of enough remembered continuity to make even the most examining viewer squeal with delight), but the final moments in which Buffy gives her life to save the one thing she has left in this world are devastating. If you don't cry when you see Buffy's tombstone you have no soul, and if you don't get out a teary chuckle when the camera zooms out to see the last line of the epitaph you have no sense of humor.

2. The Body (5x16)


Has there ever been an hour of TV more depressing than this? If there is, I don't know if I could withstand it. The greatest of those so-called "Emmy grab" episodes, it is the ultimate rumination on death from a man who gave us so many memorable character demises. Its simplistic, brutally realistic look at mortality reminds us that death can come at any moment and it doesn't have to be epic, even in entertainment. And to think that it was the first death of natural causes in the whole series. I tear up just thinking about it.

1. Becoming, Pt. 2 (2x22)


You don't know how much I debated with myself over the ordering of the top three. Any one of them would be the single most defining hour of any other program, and I have to choose between them. Ultimately, I picked "Becoming" over the others because, apart from being an emotionally draining, darkly poignant thrill-ride, it works as a self-contained, utterly frank coming-of-age story that strips Buffy of just about everything, until the fifth season showed just how much more she had to lose. By all accounts, the show could have ended here and it would have been utterly compelling (but thank God it didn't). Beautiful, haunting, and exhilarating: television doesn't get any better than this.


Honorable Mentions:

Consequences (3x15)

While Season 3 may have been short on emotion, the fallout from Faith unintentionally killing a human cut the core of her character and why she so completely envied Buffy. Anyone else would have made this into some growing up moment for her (and indeed it was...for Buffy), but the writers took a more realistic turn and threw Faith into her darkest area yet. This is pretty much what they wanted to do with "Ted" but couldn't risk with their star player.

No Place Like Home (5x05)

A terrific mix of humor, character development, and story advancement, NPLH gets to the bottom of just what's up with Dawn and sets her down as a character truly deserving of pity. It also sets up a more mature Buffy, although she's still not ready for what she's about to go through (could anyone be?).

Angel (1x07)

The first episode that hinted that Buffy could be something more. Eventually, they took the Buffy/Angel relationship too far in their third season "just get me to my spinoff" section, but here Whedon got across with actual subtlety the doomed-but-maybe-it-will-work-after-all-OK-it-won't-but-it's-fine-for-now poignancy of their relationship. The final image of Buffy's cross burned into Angel's chest is one of the most iconic to me. This, along with "The Prophecy Girl" pointed to the Buffy we came to know and love.


The Five Worst Episodes of Buffy

Unfortunately for Buffy, just as picking out the top 10 takes no time, so too is it easy to pick out the duds. I had to really rack my brain to come up with 5 bad episodes of Angel, but I actually had to leave a few off this list. Buffy was a bold first show with a constantly evolving foundation, so slip-ups were inevitable. So, as we celebrate the finest the show had to offer, let us also reflect on the moments that were thankfully all too brief.

5. The Killer in Me (7x13)

What disappoints me so much about this episode is that it had not one, not two, but three potentially magnificent storylines and promptly wasted them all. Spike's malfunctioning chip was both funny and deadly serious, but they bring back the Iniative complex (which I guess wasn't totally destroyed when the Iniative shut it down, proving that they truly can do nothing right); Willow turning into Warren after kissing Kennedy could have been a great subconscious expression of her guilt and grief over Tara, but it turns out it was all the work of Amy, who had no reason to hex Willow; and the notion that Giles might be the First would have explained his off behavior as well as delivering a killer gut-punch to both the Scoobies and the audience. Instead, it all gets solved in one episode, hugs are had, and heads are placed in hands to absorb the shock of such bad writing. What a terrible waste.

4. Where The Wild Things Are (4x18)

The last of Tracey Forbes' three episodes and the first of two to appear on this 'worst of' list, "Where the Wild Things Are" took pretty much the exact concept seen in the season's earlier, vastly superior "Fear, Itself," only to remove everything interesting and fill the gap with incessant shots of TV sex between Buffy and Riley. Of course, considering how stiff Blucas is, there's really no better job for which he is suited. Plus, the subtext of a religious nutbag who left the children in her care sexually repressed was too over the top and bluntly overstated to be of any interest. Let us thank the TV gods that they banished her to permanent obscurity following this pile of tripe.

3. As You Were (6x15)

The fact that they brought Riley back is enough to gain my scorn, but the actress who plays his wife makes Marc Blucas look like '70s De Niro; her performance is so awful that she won an Emmy for it in a parallel universe. The Finns aside, the episode is still dumb and utterly pointless and throws off the momentum "Dead Things" gave to the season after that noticeable drag in the middle. Thankfully, things got back on track once Riley left for good and the season barreled magnificently towards its wonderful conclusion.

2. Beer Bad (4x05)

Aside from one or two admittedly funny lines, this is the worst episode I've ever seen to warn teenagers against alcohol. Think about all the terrible, pandering, condescending episodes of TV ever devoted to the dangers of underage drinking, and despair. Some lines are genuinely funny ("Fire bad!"), but everything is just so insulting to the audience and so much of the dialogue misses that the few bits that connect cannot hope to make up for it. At least it finally broke Buffy of her childish sulking after the Parker debacle.

1. I, Robot...You, Jane (1x08)

Even the worst episodes of Whedon television have something going for them. In fact, it's usually bad execution that makes them memorably weak. But not "I Robot, You Jane." No, it starts with a broad, uninteresting concept --the Internet is a dangerous place? Even for 1997 this was redundant-- and combines it with an inane MOTW villain, wheel-spinning character development (the last thing we needed to see even in this early stage was a nerdy, shy, helpless Willow), and just plain unfunniness and you've got the most insufferable hour of Whedonverse television ever produced. Thank God they got it out of the way in the first season of his first series.


So there you have 'em. Agree? Disagree? Feel free to post your own favorites and comments.

(See also: my picks for the 25 best (and 5 worst) Angel episodes)

Numfar, Do the Dance of Joy! 'Dollhouse' Renewed For Second Season

http://www.thrfeed.com/2009/05/dollhouse-second-season.html

Look at it. Just look at it. I resigned myself to the inevitability of Dollhouse's cancellation long ago. Never mind the history with Fox: it simply wasn't a very good show. Then everything kicked into high gear in the middle of the season and I found myself biting my nails with every Whedonesque update. Early predictions following the finale's abysmal ratings (disregard that cancellation naysaying!) were understandably grim, with every cynical critic and insider betting the farm that Dollhouse would be put to pasture -- I apologize for that horrid metaphor-mixing, but I'm happy right now.

Then, something wonderful happened. News began leaking that Fox entered into serious talks with Whedon and the show runners, suggesting that the network had not simply canned the series in frustration. People started throwing out statistics involving DVR and online playback, as well as the inevitable profit margin afforded by a Whedon series on DVD -- consider how many times Serenity has been re-released on DVD and Blu-Ray in its short lifespan. The actors urged fans to email and even call Fox's offices, resulting in their answering services crashing from the influx. Within two weeks, the tide had completely turned, and all signs pointed to renewal. This can mean only one thing: President Obama has so re-shaped the American landscape and outlook that even Fox television can give us hope.

Now with sources confirming a renewal (the official announcement comes Monday, May 18), I have at last given in to the hope and excitement that I refused to allow myself to feel in the storm of gathering hype. I'm so excited that I'm writing this, a distraction from my usual style of shoddy criticism, because, well, I write when I'm excited (note to self: get laid). But while my head may be in the clouds right now, I've at least kept my toes on the ground, and I realize that Dollhouse still has a hell of a fight ahead of it. So let me discuss some of the conditions that will likely accompany the show's renewal and what they might mean for the series. (WARNING- THE REST OF THIS POST WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS)

1. Budget cuts. Get ready, because they're coming. Most of the early insider reports that hinted towards the show's renewal mentioned that Fox would expect drastic cost reduction to increase the chance for profit. The problem is: what can they cut? The only serious investment in the show was the actual Dollhouse set, but its costs were more or less negligible because they essentially took the place of the pilot the crew never shot (Fox paid for an order of episodes rather than funding a pilot to determine whether or not to pick up an entire series). Everything else has been fairly inexpensive. I don't know how much the actors and crew are being paid, but given that a sizable chunk are relative newcomers, while the rest (Williams, Dushku, Acker, Lennix, etc.) don't seem like the kind of A-listers to draw hefty paychecks, so I wonder if cutting cast would necessarily reduce costs significantly. Nevertheless, fans have been right to point out that Angel was on the receiving end of a budget cut for its fifth season, and most of us can agree that the show flourished under the pressure.

2. The time slot. Placing an un-proven, dense thematic web of a series on Friday nights was an early sign that Fox had little faith in the series' success, but it drew fairly healthy numbers for the time, even if they were consistently well-beneath even modest predictions. When paired with another science fiction show (the ailing Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles) the show did well enough, but when Fox switched the lead-in with the final few episodes of Prison Break, both shows suffered horribly, and Dollhouse never recovered.

Some articles on Whedonesque reported that Fox is planning to keep the show on Fridays, which means one of two things: 1) Fox still doesn't believe that Dollhouse has a shot in hell of making a profit but just lack anything else better to risk or 2) they are genuinely trying to make Fridays a feasible night for profit. With DVR becoming more and more prevalent -- though I still don't have one... -- networks are slowly coming around to the possibilities of such devices. While it allows people to zip past the ads, devices that let consumers watch their favorite shows anytime slightly relieves them of the need to time their shows just right. Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll find its way to Monday nights with 24, but if the show does stay on Fridays, it still has a shot if networks continue to look at the many alternative methods of TV viewing that have popped up in recent years. Just please don't set it up to compete with Lost (as if all the recent Abrams vs. Whedon stuff hasn't been annoying enough already).

3. No more Remote-Free T.V. On the one hand, Remote-Free T.V. was an interesting venture designed to capitalize on the pros and combat the cons of DVR programming. By reducing the average 15-16 minutes of ads per hour to just a few 90-second breaks, Fox banked on the idea that it would take more effort to fast-forward through the brief commercials and would instead just sit and watch those. A great idea for the viewers, but cutting that much potential ad revenue from both Dollhouse and Fringe (which was also on the bubble for a while before getting renewed) threatened a show that was on shaky ground from the start and which both the show runners and executives admitted needed time to grow. While I enjoyed watching Dollhouse's later episodes, getting sucked in for what felt like an eternity, only to look at the clock and see I was only halfway through, the reversion to a normal T.V. format is actually a boon for the show's chances. Cutting out a whole ten minutes of time will save a lot of money, and the ad revenue will increase.


So, we know what Dollhouse has to contend with on the business side of things, but how should it adapt to these situations, not only to ensure profits increase enough to guarantee the show a solid run but to ensure that the show is good enough to deserve one. I do not presume to tell Joss Whedon or his crop of talented writers how to script their shows. Heck, I would not even presume to tell Dan Brown how to write novels -- though if I did, my advice would be brief: "Stop writing." But sitting here in my own cramped space of the blogosphere, what harm could I possibly do? It's not like anyone reads this anyway. So here are a few things I'd like to see happen to ensure that this renewal is not a fluke:

• More Dollhouse-centric episodes. Not only would this cut down on costs, but the most interesting episodes of the first season largely took place within the Dollhouse -- "Man on the Street," "Spy in the House of Love," "Briar Rose." When we stay in the Dollhouse we see it for what it really is: a vile machination run by people so intelligent that they've blinded themselves to the ethical nightmare of their work (or at least they just cover it up well). With Ballard, the only main character to exist outside of the organization, now working for them, we can spend more time in the set that's already been bought and paid for, and we can get to the bottom of the Dollhouse (which in turn could lead to a breakthrough more quickly, allowing at least some of the Dolls to break free and bring the place down).

• Let some characters take the week off. The chief problem with the series so far is that no one, not even the people who don't get their minds wiped at the end of each episode, is progressing very much. Reducing recurring and even main characters' screen time offers the possibility of focus on a select few per episode. After all, many of the best episodes of Buffy and Angel revolved around a single character. Plus, by rotating the cast slightly, you might only have to pay someone for 9 episodes as opposed to 13 (the second season will likely be another truncated one, by the way).

• Don't regress. The finale was clearly set up for the possibility of being the final episode of the series period, and because of it (and because it was made by Tim "there is no hope" Minear) we seemingly ended on a note of futility: Echo got all those personalities wiped, and went back to square one, except for the fact that she remembered her real name. Now that it's coming back, it's imperative that Joss not allow the show to return to the ghastly "Doll of the Week" format that defined the lukewarm and occasionally ice-cold first half. They need to hit the ground running with this one, to deal with the fallout of Alpha's attack and to address what Echo went through. Preferably, someone needs to awaken and fight the Dollhouse, but on nobler terms than the psychotic Alpha.

• Fix Victor. This one is pretty straightforward. I can buy Dr. Saunders' scars, as the real Dr. Saunders was killed before he could patch Whiskey up, and that the lack of a living medical staff left her permanently scarred. But now Whiskey is a qualified surgeon, and scar prevention is advanced even today. It's only natural to assume that they could make him look almost completely normal in the future. Not only does this allow Enver Gjokaj (one of the finest actors on the show) the chance to stay and do something, it reduces makeup time and costs, saving some cash.

• Make Amy Acker a part of the main cast. Yes, I know, it's silly to suggest a promotion at a time when budget cuts are on the horizon. But I went back and watched the last few episodes and, combined with the memories of my Angel binge at the end of last year, I'm certain that Amy Acker is just about the best actress on television. I couldn't name you five people on all four of Joss' shows who bring it as consistently and as amazingly as her (Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk are the only ones I might rank above her). I'm not sure why she doesn't get more work (I mean, it's a shallow industry, so even if she had no talent at all, have you looked at her?), but damn it, Joss better not waste this precious resource. Of course, this is totally wishful thinking, as Acker has already been cast as a lead on ABC's new show Happy Town (maybe she auditioned out of fear that Dollhouse would never make it), so the likelihood of her even appearing as frequently as she did are quite low.


So, Kevin Reilly, the man who helped keep NBC's crop of excellent comedies afloat when they all debuted to bad ratings (The Office, 30 Rock) and who became the latest president of FOX, delivered. Perhaps Reilly believes that, like those aforementioned shows with their shaky beginnings, Dollhouse is a potential gold mine, one worth the effort of digging to reach the riches just a bit further beneath the soil. As much as I've taken Fox to task over the years, Reilly's good people, and he happens to be one of the few at the front of a changing entertainment landscape who sees ways to work within the shifting paradigm. This stunning news gives Dollhouse a literal second chance, but we can only hope that, come the fall, Whedon comes out swinging and reminds everyone why he's the best damn writer to ever grace the small screen.