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End of Days (Ep. 7.21)
"Big Empty"
Let's keep this short. "End of Days" was the worst episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer ever. Bad in the sense of not making sense. Bad in the sense of stupid things happening. Bad in the sense of characters doing and saying things that make you hate them. Bad in the sense of making you wonder what the finale could possibly produce to make this horrible sinking feeling go away.
I won't prolong the pain. Let's get this one over with.
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Chaos in the sewers. War-movie-style jostling camera shots. A timebomb has just gone off in the midst of the Potentials, and many girls are dead. Faith is pulled out of the dirty water, unconscious, but still alive. Everyone's scared and hurt. There is much stumbling and screaming.
Now, since you obviously can't have a group of frightened, injured girls stumbling through a dank, drippy sewer without something showing up to chase them, multiple UberVamps pop out of the storm drains like sewer rats to hassle the bedraggled bunch. More girls die. (Someone open that pesky Seal again? Are there thousands running around now? Or just a few? Dunno - no one mentions it!)
Axe And Ye Shall Receive
Okay, now Buffy arrives with her magic axe. She kills the UberVamps. Scene shifts back to the Summers house, where wounded are laid out on the living room floor. Amanda frets to another girl about the sewer disaster, wondering if it was fate's punishment for ever doubting Buffy. No counter-argument is presented, so I guess we're meant to think it's true.
Buffy flourishes axe to an awestruck Willow and Giles. She brags about pulling it from the stone and inexplicably calls it a "scythe," which it is not. A scythe is that thing that Brad Pitt used to slice and dice the Paris coven in Interview With a Vampire. It's that long blade on a pole that the grim reaper carries. (scythe n. an agricultural instrument consisting of a long, curving blade fastened at an angle to a handle, for cutting grass, grain, etc., by hand; Websters Unabridged.) I really would have liked to see Buffy handle one of those, but that's not what she has. She has an axe. An axe with a stake on the handle - the same prop that appears in Joss Whedon's comic book, Fray (in which it's nothing special whatsoever - guess this particular plot development hadn't been thought of yet).
Willow and Giles research the axe, mostly on the Internet. They coo over how "ancient" it is, although it certainly doesn't resemble a Bronze-age sword blade or prehistoric relic. It's chrome-shiny and the blade is painted candy-apple red. It looks like a ZZ Top tour prop. Disbelief: not really suspended here.
Shocking Developments
Scene with Xander in the kitchen. Buffy tells Xander he's her "strength." (Hm. Guess we're totally not gonna talk about that whole mutiny-on-the-Buffy thing at all, huh?) She needs him to go on a special, unspecified mission that will apparently remove him from the battlefield, since Xander grumbles that he feels like he's "being put out to pasture." Buffy poo-poos this, then jokes about his newly crummy peripheral vision. Hah-hah. Funny, Buff. Not. "I always thought I'd be there for you... you know, for the end," Xander says seriously, then follows up with more joking about the apocalypse, and finishes with the startlingly unfunny, "Besides, if you die, I'll just bring you back to life... that's what I do." Um. Hah?
We find out what Xander's mission is. It's to take Dawn away from the fight. He stuffs a chloroformed rag in her face, piles her into his car, and drives off. Buffy, in her new penchant for note-writing, has provided Dawn with a feckless explanation, which we get in sugary voiceover: "Dearest Dawn, don't be angry with Xander. He only did what I told him to do. This isn't the place for either of you. Please know that I love you and that everything I do is for you. I promised once to show you this beautiful world, and I'm going to do everything I can to make that happen... Thankfully, there is a god, because this tedious claptrap cuts off when Dawn produces a stun gun and zaps Xander with it! She grabs the wheel of the car and turns back toward home. I know it won't last, but for now, Dawn is my new hero.
Itty Bitty Pity Party
Buffy's bedroom. Faith is recuperating in Buffy's bed. She doesn't look half as thrashed as she did on Angel, when she got her butt kicked by the Beast and then Angelus in quick succession. Super Slayer healing, or sloppy continuity... dunno which. Buffy sits on bed and listens to Faith explain how she now understands from her short tenure as leader how "alone" Buffy must always feel. Wow, I guess we were meant to be feeling sorry for Buffy all this time. Then Faith adds, "Thank god we're hot chicks with superpowers." I think we were supposed to find this funny.
Quick break here. I am not a hot chick with superpowers. Nor are most people. There are a lot of actual wars being fought in the real world today, and none of the people fighting them have superpowers, nor superpowered friends, nor special healing powers and magic axes. They go out and fight and die and do what they feel they have to, even though they're not special, not Chosen Ones, not given the gifts of destiny to help them fight their battles.
Anya Explains It All
A scene with Andrew and Anya continues this line of thought a bit. On a run to an abandoned hospital to get medical supplies, these two gray-zone characters bond over alcohol and bandages, and Anya brings us up to date on her current feelings about humanity: "...they have no purpose that unites them, so they just drift around, blundering through life until they die... which they know is coming, yet every single one of them is surprised when it happens to them. They're incapable of thinking about what they want beyond the moment. They kill each other, which is clearly insane. And yet, here's the thing. When it's something that really matters, they fight. I mean, they're lame morons for fighting, but they do. They never... never quit. So I guess I will keep fighting, too."
This speech is beautiful. Emma Caulfield is a terrific actress. I'm continually impressed by her talent, especially in her ability to summon up such a complex mix of emotions - usually over the human condition (e.g., "The Body," "Hell's Bells," "Entropy," "Selfless"). Anya's journey toward humanity has been one of the most touchingly underplayed and heartfelt elements of the last three years, and one of the brightest spots of the season so far. But what bothers me about this speech is that it just has way too much in common with Jonathan's wistful reminiscence about high school just before he got a dagger in the gut, or Tara's last happy day with Willow just before she got shot. I can't help but feel like we're watching her (and likely Andrew as well) being prepared for execution.
And is Anya's speech really supposed to be the series' overweening philosophy? Do we all just "blunder through life" thinking only of the moment? If people are simply "lame morons for fighting," does wanting to do "what's right" even matter? Is everything really that pointless? Does all the series' talk about good and evil add up to anything at all?
The Love We Share...
Nightfall. Buffy descends stairs from her talk with Faith, just in time to greet Spike as he comes through the front door. Again with the stairs metaphor.... oh, in case you haven't figured it out yet, here it is: Buffy is always above Spike. Always.
There are a couple of lame jokes and some awkward axe-admiring."Can see why a girl would ditch a fella for one of those," Spike comments jokingly re: the axe, then he gamely offers to pass off the previous night as: "...a glitch. A bit of cold comfort from the cellar dweller. Let's don't make a thing out of it." Buffy agrees with the brisk, "Great. I have work to do." Getting the obvious message that his presence is no longer required, Spike puts out a few hurt signals, then stalks off to the kitchen.
And now, witness the wonder of Buffy's mind at work. Having clearly communicated that she's busy and doesn't want to bother with Spike, she then pursues him into the kitchen, ranting that he's "a dope" and "a bonehead." Brandishing the precious axe and, she tells him that she's "tired of defensiveness and weird, mixed signals," and insists that the very reason she has the weapon is "because of the strength that you gave me." She wonders aloud how he could possibly think that the previous night didn't mean anything to her, even though she just said as much on the stairs.
He stares at her like she's gone mental, which is a pretty good theory at this point, then tells her exactly what the night meant to him, in the second soul-baring speech in as many episodes. To wit: it was the best night of his life. Just holding her and watching her sleep is the first time he's ever felt truly close to anyone. And now he's thoroughly "terrified" that she's going to make fun of him or blow him off again.
Which, of course, she does. She insists the night was important to her too, that she was "there" with him. He asks her what that means. "I don't know. Does it have to mean something?" she states flatly.
...Seems To Go Nowhere
In this exact moment, I swear I felt the final death rattle of this relationship. Buffy's answer to this latest painful outpouring (achingly delivered by Marsters, as usual) is exactly the sort of thing one gives to dates for whom you have no real respect, a cold equivalent to "you're a nice guy, but..." Are we meant to think that Buffy is too wrapped up in the mission to make time for fussy emotions? If so, then why pursue him into the kitchen in the first place when he was obviously so willing to let the entire incident go? Her manner in this scene is demanding, even bullying. She insists on being sure of his feelings, but remains unwilling to reveal anything about her own.
The irony here is astounding. Despite her complaining, it's Buffy who continually puts out "defensiveness and weird, mixed signals." Her emotional constipation, her one-of-everything candy assortment of superiority and inferiority complexes and empathic frigidity, has been pointed to again and again as the chief reason for most of her own misery this year. And yet, one episode from the finale, we're getting no indication that there will be any kind of comeuppance for her behaviour. The ideals that "Empty Places" and "Touched" seemed to be preaching, that unity doesn't come from command structures and strength doesn't come from detachment, have been resolutely overthrown. In "End of Days," Buffy is once again the unchallenged leader, as remote as ever. And having gotten what she needs from Spike, she once again dismisses him...but not before making sure he'll still be there in case she needs him again.
It's downright creepy to realize how many times we've seen this pattern by now: Spike opens his heart to Buffy, often at length, and receives a frozen or dismissive response, yet if he tries to withdraw or leave, she refuses to let him go. She protects him and relies on his help, but keeps him on the outside of her life looking in. She soaks up his adoration and gives nothing back, acts jealous and possessive yet won't admit to any connection, emotional or otherwise.
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LIFE LESSONS OF THE BUFFYVERSE
It's time to revisit our list of life lessons that you can take away from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, since things really seem to have changed in the last year or so. Let's check the current state of affairs.
a) Buffy is always, has always been, right about everything. Her orders should always be followed without question
b) Dads are bad
c) Men are toys
d) It's only the other person who ever gives off "mixed signals"
e) Adult life is no fun
f) Sex is bad
g) Love is miserable
h) Good and evil are what Buffy says they are
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What are we supposed to be getting out of this? Are we supposed to see Spike's treatment by Buffy here as his penance, his chance to gain some much-needed humility by serving Buffy's needs with no thought for his own? If so, then what was Season 6 all about? Wasn't that ground already pretty much covered in "Beneath You"? From these last couple of episodes, one gets the impression that we're now meant to see Spike in a somewhat noble light - the camera lingers lovingly on his face as he makes these speeches - but then what does that make Buffy? Not exactly noble, that's for sure. Watery eyes and quivery chin notwithstanding, Buffy comes off as a selfish bitch, with no thought spared for anyone's feelings but her own. Not much of an object lesson there.
And it's not over yet. Given "does it have to mean something?" as his answer to "the best night of my life," Spike's previously wide-open expression closes down and he cuts off Buffy's halfhearted attempt to suggest that maybe they can talk "when this is over." "Let's just go be heroes," he sighs.
Don't Axe, Don't Tell
I won't get much more into the rest. It's all pretty damn stupid. Buffy goes to the cemetery, where she finds a tomb that's never been there before. It looks like a pyramid. Like Egypt, right? Inside, there's a white-robed woman - also white-skinned, so forget that Egypt connection - who we will call Galadriel the Elf Queen, because that's more or less her function here, to yak at Buffy about some mystical horseshit. Not like we get her name anyway - she jokes about how she looks "good for her age" (god, enough with the eternally powerful beings who talk all colloquial-like!) and says she's one of the people who put the "scythe" in the stone. Apparently the weapon was "forged it in secrecy" and hidden "from the Shadow Men" who "became the Watchers. And the Watchers watched the Slayers. But we were watching them," she says. "We" means "Guardians. Women who want to help and protect you." Which totally explains where they've been all this time! She explains that they "hid" because they "had to." Wow. Big help there. Then she looks over the axe and says, "This is a powerful weapon... but you already have weapons."
Y'know, in the old days, Buffy would have been rolling her eyes at this last the same way I am... but no dice these days. She just stares at the Elf Queen all serious like any of this means anything or any of us have ever wondered about the mystery of a magic axe that was just introduced last episode, or a race of "Guardians" who don't seem to have ever guarded anything. Not to mention the overall stupidity of the axe itself - I'd had such hopes that the Slayer's ultimate weapon would be something a little less, shall we say, literal, being that The First isn't exactly something you can bury an axe in the skull of. Agh!
It's Suddenly Raining Men!
But it doesn't matter anyway, because Caleb shows up again, even though I think we're all pretty tired of him by now, and kills the Elf Queen just like that. Well, not like she was gonna be any help anyhow. Buffy fights Caleb with the axe. I forgot to mention that Caleb was powered up earlier by "merging" with The First (in Buffy's guise, of course) in a ritual which seemed oddly sexual, considering how grossed out he's supposed to be by them dirty women. So he kicks Buffy around for awhile, which I think is meant to make us think "wow, Caleb's tough!" but mostly makes me think about how sick I am of seeing a supposed girl-power show feature women getting victimized and brutalized. Wasn't Caleb being a misogynist supposed to be some kind of statement on that?
Guess not, 'cause a man shows up to save Buffy! Guest star David Boreanaz as Angel makes his appearance in the final two minutes of the show to punch Caleb, quip for a second, and then stand aside smirking while Buffy puts the evil preacher down for the count. She doesn't do a finishing move, however, so I doubt he's really out of our hair yet. Poor Chevy Impaler was about having a conniption on our couch. Doesn't this girl watch any horror movies? Maybe that's what we should be doing right now...
Fangs Of Jealousy
Buffy gets up from the floor, eyes alight. She steps directly up to Angel. They fall together into a kiss. Big 'ol passionate kiss. And now, the camera pulls back to show us a stunned Spike, watching from the shadows, expression slack and unreadable. The First is lingering at his elbow, puzzlingly cloaked in Buffy's face (Juliet Landau not available that week?). "That bitch," it murmurs. No argument there.
So now what? My guess: Buffy will use her chrome-shiny new weapon to put a foot to Caleb's ass; the leftover gang will once again rally 'round; The First will be sent packing; and all will be right once more in Sunnydale. What, you thought that evil would win in the end? Uh-huh. So just to make sure we have something to not be sure about instead, we have this - a wince-inducing love triangle between Buffy, and the two vampires who love her. Will Spike go evil again, considering that trying to be good hasn't exactly paid off for him so far? Will Angel say anything about what's been going on at his network, where his son's been banished from this reality and he's supposedly fallen in love with Cordelia? Will Buffy tells us what she really feels? And here's the most important question: will we even care?
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