There’s a popular internet meme (or memes, really) that celebrates the ridiculous desire of our binge culture to return to shows we love over and over again instead of checking out anything new. We revisit Friends and The X-Files instead of watching the newly hyped “insert quirky sitcom or elevated drama here.” We tell ourselves we’ll check out Yellowstone or Euphoria, but as soon as we get to Netflix or Max, we gravitate to our old favorites. For me, that show has been Buffy the Vampire Slayer over the last 14 years,
The year was 2008, and I lived in a studio apartment off-campus at the University of California, Santa Barbara. I was studying film and media, immersed in the brilliance of Hawkes and Pasolini. So, when Hulu mildly suggested I watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I perused the show page, I realized something mildly upsetting. I have never watched seasons six and seven.
I grew up in a house with eight channels and a drawer full of VHS tapes until I was 15 (for context, that was 2002). That means no Nickelodeon, HBO, and, most importantly, UPN. Why is this important? Because UPN is where seasons six and seven first aired, Buffy died at the end of season five. Since I was 14 years old, Buffy was dead to me.
On March 10th, 1997, Buffy the Vampire Slayer premiered on what was then the WB (now the CW). Welcome to the Hellmouth and The Harvest played as a two-part introduction and, to some like me, an indoctrination into the Buffyverse. It was a torrent of high school angst, comedic flair, and supernatural horror. The tone easily gravitated between light and breezy to dark and dramatic. The world built itself in lingo, location, and characters. It was immersive, captivating, and had nine-year-old me hooked.
What had been a modern-day gothic in 1992, with Kristy Swanson precariously balancing between cheerleader and newly minted vampire slayer, opened a door for Sarah Michelle Gellar. Many people pick sides, “movie vs. TV show.” Still, in my mind, SMG is just a continuation of the former, carrying on Buffy’s legacy after she burns down her old high school gym and gets destiny-dropped into Sunnydale…home of the Hellmouth.
Buffy quickly became my role model: a powerful teenager who just wanted to live her life but was endowed with the epic responsibility of saving the world. Willow and Xander were my friends; they were funny, smart, and always there when hard times came. And Angel was…well, actually boring. I was always a Spike girl, even at age 11 (the lessons of time revealed why being “team Spike” was pretty cringy…but we’ll discuss that another time).
For five years, I never missed an episode, airing weekly after 7th Heaven, which my parents thought was a wholesome show I could totally watch (though I found it quite boring). The truth was, I would put up with 7th Heaven so I could get to Buffy and learn the real–life lessons of growing up shadowed by the mystic metaphors of demons and vampires.
And then, at the end of season five, Buffy dies. She gives herself up to save the world once again, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer was over. At least for me, and anyone who didn’t have UPN, and see, Buffy’s death was by design, and the network move was written into the show as the death and resurrection of our titular character. It’s part of the brilliance that was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But it also meant that in my young mind…the show ended when Buffy died.
The lessons imparted by Buffy remained. The show found me at the perfect time of my formative years, from tween to solid teenager, and used its wiles to teach me about friendship, responsibility, love, and loyalty.
It taught me that research, while daunting, is rewarding.
It taught me that letting go is difficult but necessary.
It taught me that the adults in our lives are people, not just authority figures, who make mistakes and sometimes need our grace because learning from mistakes is a lifelong process.
It taught me the right decision might be the hard decision, and it might not be the one everybody likes, but you have to do it because it’s right (the words of Faith coming out of Buffy’s mouth in Who are You? play in my head often…why shouldn’t I do that? “Because it’s wrong.”)
So, back in my college apartment, I put on the first episode of season six, then went back and watched Welcome to the Hellmouth, and on and on until I’d binged the entire show. I was blown away by how much I still loved everything and felt somehow more connected than I ever had to the extended lore and relationships. My friends were back, and I felt a sense of fulfillment after having rewatched the entire series, part of which was for the first time.
In the obsession that followed, I found out that season six crops up time and time again as one of the most divisive seasons of the show, and I can see why. It’s a much darker show, with a struggling protagonist who has lost purpose. The Trio is pretty lame. Some episodes fall into soap opera tropes (Tabula Rasa, anyone?). There are lots of filler episodes. Most egregiously, the relationship between Spike and Buffy is…the best I can say is unsettling.
Had I watched season six as intended (age 15), I would probably agree with the crowd. But as a college junior, Buffy inserted itself into my life just when I needed it yet again. Working a part-time job I hated, having friends who found drugs more interesting than conversations, and being in a toxic relationship that I knew was wrong for me but made me feel more alive. It was like Buffy knew I needed her to help show me I wasn’t alone, and when we lose our way, it can be found again.
Plus, Dark Willow is pretty damn amazing. And there’s a freaking musical episode! And yes, I own it on vinyl.
And for the last 14 years, I have made my way back to Buffy every year. This wasn’t a conscious decision. I hadn’t set any goals to “watch Buffy every year.” It usually starts as “I don’t know what to watch, but I’d like to watch that episode of Buffy where Xander is possessed by a hyena.” This results in “well, I’ll just watch one more” and then.. “Well, better start at the beginning.” And the circle goes on again.
There are a few episodes I have been known to skip, and sometimes I feel like I’m cheating on a test when I do, and I suffer through the 40+ minutes so I don’t let Buffy down. Surprisingly, two come from season four, which I think boasts some of the series’s strongest and weakest episodes. In my growing anticipation of watching “Hush” every year, I tend to skip “Living Conditions” and “Wild at Heart” (Veruka is just insufferable). And I used to make the wild mistake of skipping season three’s “Amends” simply because it was a Christmas episode, but now I find the season seven tie-in is too good to not indulge.
The main thing I have learned from my years of Buffy is though everything changes, those morals remain the same. I come out of each year loving a different season the most, connecting with different characters and identifying with different struggles. Despite not being in high school, it resonates in the way only a show you grew up with can.
It’s the closest you’ll ever get to being young again because it reminds you of those lessons and reconnects you with a part of yourself. Reminding us about the hard choices. Reminding us to find the good in those around us. Reminding us that while some things cannot be changed, we are in control of our destinies.
It reminds us to be the heroes of our story.
Perhaps one day, I’ll come out of it and finally understand everything “Restless” has to offer.
One thing stands firm… “Band Candy” is probably my favorite episode ever (Snyder saying, “Woah Summers, you drive like a spaz” gets me every time), and probably more so as I take on the role of mother to my new kid. The Chosen One box set sits on my shelf, ready for her arrival into pre-teen. And through her eyes, I’ll get to experience Buffy the Vampire Slayer for the first time all over again. I’m damned excited for that.
In the season finale, Buffy’s cinematic, world-saving arc ended, and all potential slayers rose up, embodying their gift as heroes of the world. It’s the moral of a seven-year story. We are all chosen by our potential, defined by it, and when we embrace our gifts, we can save the world. It’s an empowering message of hope, individuality, and embracing who you are. And I think it’s a message we all need a little bit of right now. We are all chosen ones…and into every generation, we are born with great potential. We just have to embrace it.
Lasting side note:
I have put the controversies surrounding Joss Whedon and his treatment of the cast aside for this mainly because I feel the work of writers and showrunners like Jane Epenson, Marti Noxon, David Fury, David Greenwalt, Douglas Petrie, and David Solomon need to be celebrated. Plus, the years and work dedicated by the cast who created something truly magical and life-changing for a girl like me and hopefully many girls to come.
