If you look at a 12-year-old these days (just in an
observational way, not in an Operation Yewtree
way), they always seem so together.
Stylish clothes, loves a camera lens, down to the last ten in The X Factor, full of
confidence and dreams. When I was this
age, I was an awkward mess of a human being.
I used to refuse to brush my hair and parade around in a fleece and a
retainer. I was so keen at school that I
often illustrated my school exercise books with lovingly shaded crayon sketches,
such was my addiction to House Points.
So, the sudden appearance of Buffy The Vampire Slayer in my
life could not have been more timely.
At first, I thought it was a stupid name. Buffy.
Everyone I knew was called Laura or Sarah or Robert. There were four Matthews in my class. But, then again, nobody would have paid
attention to Gemma The Vampire Slayer.
And pay attention we did. We’re
talking 1997 here, way before our slavery to TV scheduling was anywhere near an
end. That 6.45pm slot on BBC2 every Thursday was convenient to
nobody (I’ve already explained about my Dad
pretending to know how to work the VCR) so we all had to spend the fourth day
of the week at school buzzing to rush home and get ready to wait a few hours
for the show to come on. Thursday was
already an epic day as it was supermarket (Sainsbury’s) shop day in our
household (and to this day I can still only have food from Sainsbury’s). Life goals were a Goodfellas pizza followed
by our choice from the patisserie counter AND a treat yoghurt that was more
chocolate than dairy product.
As I got older, I’d make plans with friends to pile round
one of our houses and watch the show together.
This felt like the right thing to do, as we were desperate to have
others engage in our enthusiasm, but it was always immediately
regrettable. Our excitement would translate
into not being able to keep quiet and concentrate during each episode,
constantly shushing each other and then forgetting and making our own comments out
loud. We’d miss crucial dialogue and
plot points and rue the decision to share the viewing experience. In some ways, it was a precursor of the
Whatsapp group chat that you try to participate in while chunking through a
boxset, ending up stuck in a limbo between ever getting fully to grips with
either. Yes, you’re a terrible person.
But what did I love about it? Firstly, I always loved something set in a
high school. Secondly, another favourite
theme of mine is the supernatural.
Thirdly, the perfect combination of points one and two leaves us with
something that really was a bit of me. It’s
probably what’s led me, even in recent times, to my embarrassing viewership of Teen Wolf.
Buffy was a teenager, and I was becoming one myself. I didn’t have to slay vampires, but I did
have to survive a British comprehensive school.
Buffy and her friends also spoke only in ironic witticisms, cleverly
playing with words and engaging in what would later become known as
banter. A bit like Friends, people hadn’t spoken like this before,
though it didn’t translate that well into my Surrey playground experience. I tried to ask someone what their “childhood trauma” was
and got sent out the classroom. Sorry,
sir.
There are seven series out there. Buffy and her friends evolve, grow and
develop into young adults. They have the
angst of killing demons compounded by the angst of having to go off to
university. Controversially, I’m not
sure their adventures stand up to re-watching.
I keep spotting the show in the EPG plastered across the SyFy channel, but it looks like each episode
was filmed through a pinhole camera, as the aspect leaves acres of blank space
on the screen, which does nothing to make you want to watch a randomly selected
instalment halfway through, especially when Netflix is offering you the
eyeball-caressing supernatural effects of Stranger
Things. What’s worse, their clever
dialogue now seems unoriginal and dated.
But, Buffy still has a very firm place in my heart. It taught me how great and significant TV
could be. I tingled every time the theme
tune came on. When Blondie released Maria and Capital FM played it 200 times a day, 1999
became a very tingly year, as the opening chords of that song sounded exactly
like Buffy’s theme tune. I even used to
read my episode guide (entitled the Watcher’s Guide, obviously) while a poster
of Buffy looked down on me from my bedroom wall. I totally could have been a Watcher as I am
very English, still quite awkward, and enjoy being in libraries.
The Buffyverse’s vampires look exactly like humans until
faced with blood or aggression. Instantly,
their fangs emerge and their foreheads crease into a much angrier and more
monstrous expression. Oddly, this is
exactly what happens to me every time I get hungry at work, so the programme
really is extremely easy to identify with.
But as much as the vampires and demons brought the edge and the action,
it was Buffy’s pals, the Scooby Gang, that held the story arcs together (even
though I inexplicably hated that term for their group). Here, I shall go right through some of them
while wilfully leaving out others:
Xander
I’ve slowly realised that I only ever found his wiseguy
rapid speech quite irritating. He was
either pining with unrequited love or balls deep in a relationship, and that’s
fair enough really. I was never jealous
of his hair, which is a key factor for me in male TV characters.
Willow
As I reflect, I again wonder if her cutesy act was a bit
annoying. It wasn’t at the time, but I’m
much more impatient these days. And, of
course, I can only ever hear phrases combining brass instruments with female
sexual organs whenever I see Alyson Hannigan.
Cordelia
100% sass and a great foil to Buffy, so it was a shame she
was in so few series.
Faith
Not really a full member, as she was a sort of rival slayer
that sprung up due to an admin error at slayer head office. Somehow, she was more bad-ass than
Buffy. Whatever happened to Eliza Dushku? I wish I could be bothered to Google. Most importantly, she went on to star in Bring It On, a film I promise I
have never seen and from which I cannot recite lines of script extensively.
Giles
The best librarian ever.
As with all British actors in American shows, he sounded like an
American doing a bad accent, but I believe he has been knighted for his
services to tweed blazers.
Spike
Now this really was an awful English accent. I felt like he got more attention in later
series simply by hanging around and waiting for his time to shine.
Buffy
What a lead. Everyone
could find a way to connect with Buffy.
Her whole life was a big “why me?” moment. But then Sarah Michelle Gellar
tried to shake off her teen image in Cruel Intentions, and as that
saliva strand was drawn out between her lips and Selma Blair’s, a little
piece of my childhood died. A childhood
that involved tingling at the thought of a show where teenagers shoved stakes in
the hearts of their classmates.
By writing this, I’ve added nothing to the existing reams of
fan discussion about Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
I’ve probably angered some core fans, which isn’t my intention. What this proves, if anything, is that,
twenty years later, the awkward 12-year-old is now an awkward 32-year-old. Whereas, twenty years later, Buffy is still a
show remembered so fondly and whose legacy still has such enormous influence,
that I am merely a failed nostalgic who is holding classic TV answerable to
modern standards. And you’re reading it…
