Postcards From the Edge of the Hellmouth

I had every intention of stepping up on my soapbox and rambling about censorship last night in honor of Banned Books Week, but I suppose that will have to wait 'til another time. Until then, go out and read a book that makes someone nervous this week. Check out the list; there's lots to choose from. But sorry again for not posting last night. It was not by choice; work trumps the weblog on the list of priorities.

I really gotta get my priorities straight.

Tonight, there's no question about priorities. I'll be over at JohnnyB's apartment, watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel on the WB.

I see you shaking your heads out there. Snickering to yourself about my programming choices for the evening. Yeah, that's right. I watch Buffy. Stop laughing. Yes, I am a grown-up. (Sometimes, at least.) Yes, the show is about a blonde college student who fights the forces of evil, whether it be demons, vampires, or secret government experiments gone awry. Yes, it's got that girl from the Stone Temple Pilots video in it...as well as the flute player from American Pie ("one time at band camp...") and the guy from the Taster's Choice "couple" commercials.

It also happens to be one of the most consistently well-written, creative shows on television, with a rather strong cult following. Entertainment Weekly can't make it through the month without getting all gushy about it. Although for the most part overlooked by the awards folks, it was nominated for a few Emmys this year, including an award for best writing (for the episode entitled "Hush," which played out sans dialogue for half of the show...neat trick).

I remember going to see the movie back in the early 90's at the second run theater. Strictly substandard comedy/horror film. Luke Perry was in it, for crying out loud. It had a few moments, but for the most part I felt cheated. I'd paid $1.50 to see this piece of drivel, and I wanted at least $1.00 back. (And a better date, but that's a whole 'nother ball o' wax.)

And then, rumors of the television show surfaced. (They were only rumors here for a season or two. Cincinnati did not have a WB affiliate.) And the show was supposed to be good...I remained a non-believer until I saw my first episode. And then I was hooked. A closeted fan, but addicted nevertheless. Once I found out that JohnnyB was watching as well, I not only admitted my addiction, but reveled in it.

No show has made me laugh harder, or cry harder, for that matter in recent years. (Ask JohnnyB how much Kleenex I went through when we watched "New Moon Rising.") The writing is fresh and witty, the cast is one of the finest ensembles working on television these days, and it satisfies the campy pseudo-horror geek in me. The writers don't seem to be afraid to take chances on different storytelling devices (a half hour of silence in "Hush," symbolic dream sequences in "Restless," and completely rewriting reality to make a minor character the actual star - including reshooting the opening credits - for "Superstar"). Critics fawn over the show, and still the public at large gives you a weird look if you mention you watch it. WHY?

Beats me. Maybe it's the name. It's hard to consider a show with a main character named Buffy to be a heavy-hitter. The only other show I can think of that had a character named Buffy was Family Affair, and I'm not even going there. Maybe it's the subject matter. Let's see...ER deals with the day-to-day trials of doctors in a Chicago hospital, The Practice is about lawyers in a Philadelphia firm, NYPD Blue follows police officers in New York City, and Buffy deals with...um, well...it's about a teenaged girl kicking evil supernatural butt in beautiful Sunnydale, California.

I know, I know. It sounds dumb. Impossible to suspend that much disbelief. But the people that roll their eyes about what I do with my Tuesday nights are the same ones who have never questioned that Monica and Rachel could afford that huge apartment in Manhattan on the combined salaries of a chef and a really bad coffeehouse waitress on Friends. Oh sure. That's realistic. Lighten up, folks. It's TV. It's not CNN; reality is allowed to take a back seat.

And as for the "silly monster" argument, let me remind the non-watcher of a little show called The X Files. How many seasons have Mulder and Scully been looking for aliens and other unexplainable phenomena? I guess UFOs and government conspiracies are more socially acceptable. Whatever. (I'll save my X Files worship for another time.)

Oh, like I care what anyone else thinks. I recommend the series whole-heartedly, but if you'd rather watch Big Brother or some other such nonsense tonight, then more power to ya. Just don't call me between 8:00 and 10:00. I'm not picking up the phone.