"The Freshman"

Written by Joss Whedon
Directed by Joss Whedon


In which Buffy begins her first year at UC-Sunnydale, and she finds the adjustments difficult to manage, especially when a gang of vampires prey on her lack of confidence...

Status Report - Memorable Quotes - Final Analysis







Status Report
With the end of the third season, Joss effectively brought the series to an end point. There were several plot and character threads left open for future expansion, but there was a definite feeling that the series was set for a reboot of sorts. This was a natural consequence of Buffy’s graduation from high school (forcing the original premise to evolve) and the emergence of “Angel” (splitting the cast).

As with so many season premieres, a lot of time is spent covering what has happened since the end of the previous season. There are no cliffhangers to use as a jumping off point, so there is a distinct lack of action at the very beginning of the next story. Plot and character elements need to be introduced or reinforced, and since Joss was also effectively recreating the series, the task is that much harder.

If the first three seasons were about using the paranormal aspect of the series as a metaphor for high school existence in general, then this season takes the self-discovery that comes with the freshman year of college and seeks to apply those emotions to Buffy’s duty as the Chosen. It’s clear from the content of this episode that Joss had a very specific direction in mind; all the right seeds are planted in retrospect. The problem is that the college freshman metaphor is shoved down the throats of the audience in a manner that is less than subtle.

One of the unfortunate aspects of graduation is the sudden and nearly complete loss of one’s social context. Teenagers spend an enormous amount of time and energy from middle school through high school jockeying for position on the social ladder at whatever high school they happen to attend. The world itself becomes so insular and self-devouring that it’s easy to forget that there are millions of other teens experiencing the exact same thing.

Graduation instantly removes that artificial social structure, forcing every single one of those teens (even the ones that insist they are “above it all”) to quickly revise their priorities. Those once at the top of the totem pole suddenly find themselves lacking in the very resources they once looked down upon, while those often forced out of the social elite suddenly find the playing field level.

Granted, this is the way it works when going from high school into college; the far more psychologically damaging transition of high school to “real life” isn’t covered so much in this episode. College life is often more accepting of “alternative” personalities, more liberal in mindset. Practicing Wicca in high school will make one a social pariah; doing so in college is a social selling point, if only because there are more people falling into more varied subcultures.

Willow is a perfect example of this phenomenon. Willow was the nerd in high school, certainly capable and super-intelligent, but socially outcast and mistreated by the social elite. Even when her personal style evolved from Osh Kosh chic to slinky mystical, her lack of designer cred kept her from being considered “cool”. (If dating a popular guy in a popular local band doesn’t cut it, there’s no hope.)

In college, however, Willow finds herself in the perfect environment. In high school, focusing on studies is socially prohibited; in college, it’s the difference between the wheat and the chaff. Not only that, but Willow’s personal style, derided in high school, is perfectly suited to the college atmosphere. Everything about UC-Sunnydale plays into Willow’s favor.

Buffy, on the other hand, bought completely into the symbols of high school status. Her early high school days as a proto-Cordelia taught her the rules of the game, and despite her socially challenging destiny, she retained that priority list in her head. Once that was over, however, she wasn’t prepared for the idea that she would become just another potential conquest for college upperclassmen.

One of the uglier sides of college is the escalation of the “life avoidance” culture. The social elite in high school typically find status through sports and partying. That mindset translates into an even more damaging college culture that perpetuates the cycle. The difference is that all of the refugees from the high school elite funnel into the same college strata, seeking to regain the popularity lost after graduation. The young men attempt to gain status within established social fraternities, most of which seek only to preserve social power among its members, picking and choosing from the fawning pledges that can’t deal with the idea of not being “cool”.

Popular girls from high school, having learned that status comes from seeking the validation of such men, can easily come to the conclusion that becoming the favored party companions of the frat boys might work to their social advancement. Social sororities practically exist on this notion, attempting to also leverage the same kind of post-college networking status that fraternity brothers often enjoy.

It’s not surprising, then, that Buffy finds herself instantly labeled as a “Jello shot” candidate. To the predatory frat boy types, Buffy looks like an easy mark. Former popularity queens are considered, for better or worse, “easy”. As lost as Buffy appears at the beginning of the episode, she looks like someone that could be taken advantage of, socially and sexually. It might seem a generalization, but as anyone within the college culture can attest, there’s a reason why sexual assaults are significantly higher in college towns; what is unreported is perhaps even more disturbing.

Buffy’s experiences are therefore quite typical of most freshman arriving on campus. Oddly, given the fact that her college is local, one would think that the transition would be easier; the surrounding town is at least familiar (this reviewer transplanted himself 8 hours away to a town where he knew no one and recognized nothing). But Buffy’s unique situation has kept her from making the kind of local connections that would at least be a minor comfort.

If there’s any indication of how different things are at UC-Sunnydale, it’s the scene with Riley in the bookstore. Looking back on Riley’s first appearance, it’s nice to see the man before the writers lost sight of his strengths as a character. Before taking up with Buffy and losing his own personality, Riley was a dedicated, intelligent man; he finds Willow far more interesting and distinct than Buffy, especially given the academic rapport.

Joss does a nice job with Riley, bringing him into the picture without forcing him into Buffy’s arms. His connection to Professor Walsh is quickly established, as is her work in behavior modification. This is when the seeds were planted for Walsh’s command of the Initiative without giving away the direction the plot was intended to take.

There are some oddities to Joss’ depiction of the college life, of course, and some of that is a practicality issue. How many freshman dorms have double rooms of that size? It’s just not at all realistic. At the same time, the confines of the typical college dorm room would be impossible to film within on a regular basis, so it’s easy to forgive. This is especially true when Buffy gets the all-too-familiar Roommate From Hell.

Another unrealistic aspect is the idea that professors would actually condescend to teach a freshman class. Some do, of course, and it makes sense for Walsh to teach the class, since she would probably be searching for freshmen with the intelligence and psychological profile to join the Initiative. But a professor teaching a class on “pop culture” with that kind of pompous attitude? Not in a million years! (But was anyone else laughing over the fact that colleges teach classes based on the series now, when watching this episode?)

One inspired aspect of the episode is the connection made between “washouts” and a roving vampire gang. The vampires are clearly a metaphor for upperclassmen, preying on the students that even the RAs label as “weak”. It’s a fairly sophisticated plan, and surely every college has a young woman like Sunday, terribly aware of her own mystique and wrapped tightly within it. The way Sunday’s gang scoffs at typical freshman life is echoed in every upperclassman hall.

Being tossed into the semi-real world of college puts Buffy at an extreme psychological disadvantage, and like many students, she seeks the comforts of parental authority. Being the father figure in her life and the one typically helpful with the vampires, Giles tops her list. Apparently Buffy was operating on her own over the summer with complete confidence, because she’s shocked to find that Giles has attempted to create a life for himself.

Joss was clearly anticipating a season where some social and cultural taboos could be broken, thanks to the more relaxed college setting. This would come into play with Willow’s post-Oz relationship with Tara, but it also applies to Giles’ apparent relationship with old friend Olivia. One has to wonder if the writers simply didn’t know what to do with an interracial romance, because Olivia seems to only show up in episodes written by Joss. It’s a pity, because it’s a far more mature example of overcoming boundaries; too many people were able to dismiss Willow’s relationship with Tara as a “college experiment”.

Giles makes a very good point: now that Buffy has “graduated” from the need for a Watcher, his role is no longer mandated. He has to see to her development in a more general sense, and that means helping Buffy find self-reliance. His mechanism for that, however, leaves much to be desired. He’s entirely too dismissive.

All of this uncertainty is used as the basis for Buffy’s lack of confidence in every aspect of her life. The problem is that Buffy should be able to mop the floor with Sunday, if only because Slaying is the one constant in her life, the thing that does not and will not change. Buffy could be taking her frustration out on the vamps; instead, because Sunday’s gang has to provide a metaphorical challenge for Buffy, the conflict is incredibly one-sided, to the point of contrivance.

Joss could have chosen to dispense with the heavy-handed college adjustment once the vampire plot took hold, but it simple continues once Buffy tries to find comfort in her mother’s arms. She finds her room already being used for storage, which works on a shared-experience level for most post-freshmen viewers, but it’s just not a logical plot point. Buffy lives five miles away; it’s not like Joyce should think of Buffy as never coming home. More to the point, this seems like an indirect way of explaining why the Summers home is rarely used, since Joyce is infrequently a part of the season.

The point is reinforced when Buffy returns to her room and finds her existence wiped away by Sunday’s gang. It seems hard to reconcile that Kathy wouldn’t object or stumble on it, but it’s the symbolism that matters. Buffy finds everything that defined her existence gone, and her friends and family seem to have moved on without her. In many ways, this is the opposite of the beginning of the third season, where Buffy tried to run away from herself.

Enter Xander, whose complete lack of another other than bruised and battered ego is just what the doctor ordered. Xander’s place in the larger narrative of the series is often hard to pin down; his loyalty is apparent, but what he contributes is less easily defined. This episode covers the concept rather plainly: Xander’s heartfelt devotion reminds Buffy and the others of their best qualities. In short, he keeps them honest, and never more than when they forget how truly beloved and special they are.

It’s a subtle character trait, and one that seldom has a major effect. This episode is the exception. Seeing herself through Xander’s eyes, Buffy remembers just how capable she can be. In fact, she goes much farther than one would expect. She remembers that she’s actually very smart, and just as able to use a computer as Willow. This is building, one would think, on the lesson in self-empowerment that Buffy received (in equally contrived fashion) in “Helpless”.

With the basic crisis of confidence dealt with and her friends once more at her side, Buffy dispatches Sunday and her cohorts with relative ease. In keeping with his somewhat extreme characterization earlier in the episode, Giles throws himself in with both feet, having realized that cutting Buffy off cold turkey is not the way to go. It comes across as very funny, which may have been the intent of giving Giles such characterization in the first place.

The episode ends with the first hint of the Initiative, with the capture of a “live” vampire by unidentified military personnel. It’s nice to see how Riley and Walsh were allowed to grow early in the season independent of the hints about the Initiative; it’s one of the stronger elements of the first half of the season.

The problem with this episode is indicative of the problem of the season as a whole. Joss intended to use the freshman year at college as a means of exploring issues of self-discovery. The first season simply covered the introduction to the series premise. The second season covered the idea of the cost of being a Slayer and how Buffy should appreciate the support she has. The third season was about “the paths not taken” and how Buffy’s background made her the person and Slayer she has become. This season is devoted to discovering inner truth and seeing past the illusions and delusions of one’s life.

The writers take the overdone metaphor of this episode and let it dictate the first several episodes of the season. The series becomes focused on taking typical freshman situations and extending them to Buffy’s circle of friends and family. Unfortunately, this doesn’t always work, and sometimes the message is forced. This episode in particular tries a little too hard to convince the audience that “Buffy” can work as a college-based series.

More than that, Joss continues to have certain pacing issues. Maintaining interest is hard enough, given the subject matter, but Joss lets some scenes drag. His talent as a director was a self-admitted work in progress, and it’s easy to see that he was struggling with the changes in scope and setting. With so much to juggle within the script, it’s not hard to recognize that something was going to suffer.

Nicely understated, however, are the ties to “Angel”. The stray phone call was a brilliant move, because tossing anything more into the story would have been prohibitive. Also, having Buffy “see” Angel at her lowest point makes perfect sense, reminding the audience that Buffy still has certain emotional needs that remain.

As season premieres go, this hour had to cover far more material than any other in the course of the series. While not quite as disappointing as “Anne” or “Buffy vs. Dracula”, this is still a stumble coming out of the gates. It’s a weakness that Joss would never quite manage to overcome, though the tradeoff was a far more cohesive seasonal structure.


Memorable Quotes
BUFFY: “How do you get to be renowned? I mean, like, do you have to be ‘nowned’ first?”
WILLOW: “Yes, first there’s the painful ‘nowning’ process…”

WILLOW: “But here, the energy, the collective intelligence, it’s like this force, this penetrating force, and I can just feel my mind opening up, you know, and letting this place thrust into and spurt knowledge into…that sentence ended up in a different place than it started out in…”

WILLOW: “Well, he says that he’s enjoying being a gentleman of leisure.”
BUFFY: “Gentleman of leisure? Isn’t that just British for unemployed?”

WILLOW: “He said he wasn’t coming back until he had driven to all 50 states.”
BUFFY: “Did you explain about Hawaii?”
WILLOW: “Oh, he seemed so determined…”

BUFFY: “You know, this store discriminates against short people.”
WILLOW: “I think there’s a protest next week…”

WALSH: “This is Psych 105, Introduction to Psychology. I’m Professor Walsh. Those of you who fall under my good graces will come to know me as Maggie. Those of you who don’t will come to know me by the name my TAs use and think I don’t know about: The Evil Bitch Monster of Death…”

EDDIE: “’Of Human Bondage’. Have you ever read it?”
BUFFY: “Oh, I’m not really into porn…I mean I’m just, I’m trying to cut way back…”

FATTY: “Does this sweater make me look fat?”
SUNDAY: “No, the fact that you’re fat makes you look fat. That sweater just makes you look purple.”

GILES: “I’m not supposed to have a private life?”
BUFFY: “No! ‘Cause you’re very, very old, and it’s gross…”

BUFFY: “Male strippers?”
XANDER: “No power on this Earth!”

XANDER: “Buffy, I’ve been through some fairly dark times in my life, faced some very scary things…among them the kitchen at The Fabulous Ladies Night Club…”

XANDER: “You up for a little reconnaissance?”
BUFFY: “You mean where we all sculpt and paint and stuff?”
XANDER: “No…that was the Renaissance…”

BUFFY: “Oh! That’s my skirt! You’re never going to fit in it with those hips! We have to kill them!”

WILLOW: “Buffy wouldn’t just take off, that’s not in her nature. Except for that one time she disappeared for several months and changed her name…”

WILLOW: “How can you be so calm?”
OZ: “Long, arduous hours of practice.”

XANDER: “Do we hug?”
OZ: “I think we’re too manly.”

GILES: “The evil is this way?”


Final Analysis
Overall, this is another disappointing season premiere. Joss had so many concepts to juggle and cram into this episode that the central conceit is overdone. Some scenes seem contrived, driven more by plot than character, and the pacing drags here and there. Key plot points are introduced, however, and ultimately the episode is better than some that continue to belabor Buffy’s early college days.

Writing: 1/2
Acting: 2/2
Direction: 1/2
Style: 1/4

Final Rating: 5/10




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