In Defense of Buffy's 6th Season

For a lot of fans of the show Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, the 6th season is universally considered one of the worst seasons (second only to the 7th season in that regard). There's a number of different reasons, from Buffy's over-the-top, annoying angst, to the de-evolution of Spike's character, to the uncharacteristically heavy-handedness in detailing Willow's drug magic abuse. While I wouldn't argue the last and I won't argue the second here, the first is of particular interest to me.

Fans love Buffy for a number of different reasons, from the excellent writing, a memorable cast of characters (especially supporting characters and villains), and the popularization of the myth story arc, which many of the most critically acclaimed modern shows now employ. It's truly a well-made show, so it's easy to see how many people, including many of its fans, miss what is ultimately the point of the show: it's a series of clever, subtle (well, usually) Aesops regarding all of the tropes and issues so commonly found in more traditional high school/young adult drama. Just, with vampires and demons and magic and the like. This was easiest to see in the high school years (seasons 1-3) which tackled issues ranging from popularity, abusive step-parents, steroid abuse in athletes, and, perhaps most famously, the question "why is my boyfriend acting so differently after we had sex?" Season 4 was all about the typical college issues, ranging from obnoxious roommates, professors who care more about their research than their students, sexuality, and insecurities about not going to college when the rest of your friends do. Season 5 was all about family, including probably one of the best directed episodes in the series ("The Body"). When Season 6 turned into a giant ball of angst, fans reacted negatively. There had always been levels of angst throughout the entire run of the show, but in Season 6 it had reached critical mass (again, at least until Season 7). It was only after listening to the "Once More With Feeling" soundtrack (the popular musical episode in Season 6 and what many fans consider a rare high point in the season) that it finally hit me, not just what Buffy's character arc was an analogy to in the season, but how incredibly obvious it had been the entire time. Season 6 was about depression. Not over-expressed angst or ennui, but serious, full-blown depression. With Buffy's songs such as "Going Through The Motions", "Walk Through The Fire" and especially "Give Me Something To Sing About" it's about as obvious as it gets. But at the same time, it's not, and it speaks to how tricky and misunderstood the topic of depression truly is.


There be spoilers here.


Season 6 begins when Buffy's friends resurrect her after her death at the end of the previous season. Her friends think they're saving her from some horrible hell, and are surprised that Buffy's not at all happy to be back, mainly because she was pretty sure she was in heaven. Either way she was content, maybe even happy. Let's re-read that a little bit. She was content (almost happy) with being dead, and upset with her friends for keeping her alive. She wanted to be dead and her friends stopped her. It's really easy to miss this subtle subtext, especially because of how dead wrong about Buffy being in some hell dimension, and how easy (at least at first) it is to sympathize with Buffy. So Buffy becomes despondent, no matter how hard her friends try to get her to be happy. She doesn't find joy in the company of her friends, or in the thrill of slaying. All she can really think about is how she wishes she were dead. In this case, the subtext wasn't nearly subtle enough. They kind of hit you in the head with a hammer over it, and now Buffy is being extremely obnoxious, and you lose all sympathy for her. She engages in behavior that is uncharacteristic and even self-destructive . Her friends, in trying to force her to be happy, end up having the opposite effect and are confused as to why their tactics aren't helping. This is textbook depression. Sure, the show should've done a better job of making Buffy more sympathetic overall, but in general it's as obvious an analogy as the show uses. It's no accident that this season emphasizes above all else humanity. Buffy has to remember what it was like to live and function as a human; Spike himself struggles with his humanity until ultimately accepting it; the main Big Bads for the majority of the season are three nerdy kids in a basement (two of which are generally sympathetic), and the ultimate Big Bad is one of the show's (hell, one of TV's) most sympathetic characters, overcome with grief and rage; and the only thing that can save the day is the words and emotional human connection of probably the only normal human character on the show.

Sure, Buffy is a little overly obnoxious with the angst. And yes, the drug abuse references were about as subtle as a brick. And the tvtropes.org's "Badass Decay" trope was originally named "Spikeification" for a reason (I would argue that Spike was never as much of a badass as he liked to pretend to be, which is part of what made him such an interesting character, but I digress). But I always knew I liked the 6th Season, certainly more than most Buffy fans did, and I now I think I finally understand why.

Self Relection on a Difficult Semester

I'm not going to lie, this semester was a rough one for me. I had a lot of struggles dealing with personal issues, and I was faced with two daunting independent projects that I had little idea how to prepare for, as well as the most rigorous and difficult, if rewarding, academic courses of my educational career. Apart from a stretch in November, where personal difficulties causing me to, and subsequently stemming from, taking antidepressants practically sidelined me. There were times were I literally felt like a living zombie. Of course, as soon as I started truly feeling better mentally I got struck with the porcine death (Novel H1N1, to be specific) that knocked me out for a week and still threatens to send me bedridden again. I like to think, however, that I learned great deal about myself. What I am capable of, what I'm not capable of, and what I need to finally convince myself I'm capable of. I wrote the first draft of my thesis play, my so-called defining work, as well as over seventy pages (I'm not exaggerating either) of writing reflecting on the nature of activism and advocacy and the role I play within it. I got my first taste of campus politics, and while essentially fruitless power struggles threatened my sanity, I find myself having an aptitude for it. So there has been a lot of bad this semester, true, but we learn the most from struggles. We find ourselves... or we find ourselves lacking. In my estimation, by the end of this semester I have definitely performed the former. I now know who I truly am, as an artist, as an advocate, as a mentor, and as a leader. And it doesn't matter that this will all change in three or five years. All that matters is I know who I am, right now, in this moment. It's a good feeling.