Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Several Buffy the Vampire Slayer scholars, including Rhonda Wilcox (60), have noted specific "blueprint" episodes. These are episodes which, while self-contained, encapsulate larger themes and narratives addressed throughout a season, or the show as a whole. Not surprisingly, the episodes identified as blueprints are often those written and directed by the show’s creator, Joss Whedon. In fact, I would argue that all too often it is Whedon’s episodes that draw the attention of critics, scholars and fans alike. Many Buffy scholars seem to have adopted cinema studies’ pet theory, auteurism, and chosen to approach their scholarship as though Whedon were the singular force behind the creation of the show. This is especially unfortunate given the valuable contributions that scores of artists have made in the shaping of BtVS over the course of its seven year existence. Whedon’s talent, vision, and ingenuity are undeniable, but if Buffy Studies is going to continue to expand as a discipline, then we must be willing to turn our attention away from Whedon. The works of staff writers like Douglas Petrie, for example, certainly deserve an increased amount of scholarly attention, especially given his prolific contributions to the Whedonverse.

Petrie penned his first Buffy episode, “Revelations”, early in season three, and went on to contribute an additional 16 more scripts over the next four years. Petrie wrote several notable episodes, including “Enemies,” in which Faith’s true motivations are revealed by an undercover Angel, “Fool for Love,” the brilliant season five episode in which much of Spike’s back-story is revealed for the first time, and “End of Days,” the final season’s penultimate episode. Petrie also provided scripts for Buffy’s spin-off Angel during its first and second season. Having solidified his position as one of Buffy’s most consistent contributors on the writing front, in season six Petrie began to expand his artist involvement by stepping behind the camera. Shot from a script which he co-wrote with Jane Espenson, “Flooded” served as his directorial debut.

Petrie’s lack of directorial experience is arguably evident in the episode’s modest visuals and unassuming narrative. “Flooded” lacks the formal experimentation of episodes like Whedon’s “Once More with Feeling”, “Restless” and “Hush”. It similarly lacks the large scale, high-stakes battles of episodes like “Primeval” or “Graduation Day II”. Buffy does not sacrifice herself or her true love to save the world, like in “The Gift” or “Becoming II”. In fact, in “Flooded”, no one dies, few major events take place, and the demonic threat is easily dealt with. Save for perhaps a single scene (the Willow/Giles standoff in the kitchen) the episode almost completely fails to call attention to itself. “Flooded” seems to fall into the same category as a handful of solid Buffy episodes: enjoyable, but not particularly memorable.

Despite its seemingly unremarkable appearance, “Flooded” is most certainly a blueprint episode. The brilliance of “Flooded” is the subtly with which Petrie and Espenson establish every single one of season six’s major themes and narrative tropes. The shifting of the hell metaphor, the humanization of Buffy antagonists and challenges, the dangers of Willow’s increasing power, the potential problems inherent in Xander and Anya’s relationship, Buffy’s growing connection to Spike as she distances herself friend her friends and family, and her total inability to re-engage herself in life after being resurrected are all clearly established in this early season six episode, before being expanded upon over the course of season six.

For a season which has garnered much negative criticism and sparked many a debate, the recognition of “Flooded” as a blueprint episode (in that so clearly establishes season six’s mission statement) can be particularly helpful. Once “Flooded” has been recognized as a blueprint episode, one cannot help but acknowledged that Buffy’s creators knew exactly where they intended to take the show during its sixth year, and that they achieved this goal admirably. “Flooded” sets out, inequitably, what themes the show will address during season six, but also how these stories will be told. The 19 episodes which follow “Flooded” rarely wander very far from what is firmly established in Petrie and Espenson’s modest episode.

“We meet at last, Mr. Drippy”

An important shift in the show’s over-arching metaphor began to take shape mid-season five, following the death of Buffy’s mother, and was solidified early in the show’s sixth season. The “high school is Hell” metaphor of the earlier seasons was gradually replaced with a new over-arching metaphor: “life is Hell.” This new metaphor is given visual representation in the second half of season six’s opening two-parter, “Bargaining”. Buffy crawls from her grave, having been resurrected by Willow’s magic, and finds Sunnydale ravaged by demons. Storefronts have been looted, innocents attacked, and random fires now burn throughout the town. The crimson glow of these fires reflects off of Buffy’s face as she wanders, in a daze, through the chaos. These flames visually invoke a sense of Hell on earth, as does the desecration of Buffy’s body, in the form of the mutilation and destruction of the Buffy-bot. When she is reunited with her sister, Dawn, at the top of Glory’s tower, Buffy’s first words are not surprising. She asks, “Is this Hell?” These early moments in season six, with their iconic Hell imagery and explicit references to Hell on earth, are as grand as the metaphor will ever be played. For the majority of the season, “life is Hell” will be approached on a startlingly person level. The show will shift its focus away from larger-than-life metaphors to focus on the mundane trivialities of adult existence.

The opening sequence of “Flooded” firmly establishes this shift from the grand to the commonplace. The episode begins with Buffy apparently on patrol, moving through a dark room. Christopher Beck’s score sets an ominous tone, adding to the rising tension, as the audience anticipates a demonic attack from the darkness just beyond the edges of the screen. Buffy finally seems to reach her point of destination and says, “So, we meet at last, Mr. Drippy.” Petrie’s camera pulls back to reveal a leaky pipe in Buffy’s basement. Unlike so many previous episodes, where Buffy met her nemesis with a wooden stake at her side, Petrie’s widened shot reveals that Buffy now carries only a wrench. In “Flooded”, the hellish flames and demonic torture of “Bargaining” have been replaced with leaky pipes and wet basements. As Buffy herself notes later on in the episode, “It’s bills. It’s money. It’s pieces of paper sent by bureaucrats we’ve never met,” that serve as her major antagonist in this episode. Indeed, Mr. Drippy will challenge Buffy far more significantly than the episode’s demonic threat, M’Fashnik.

Real life challenges, like getting a loan, paying the bills, fixing leaky pipes, and finding a job, are what Buffy will face time and time again throughout the season. The show becomes about the little defeats of everyday life, about the various compromises that one must make in order to get by in the adult world. These new responsibilities forced on Buffy, and forced on all young adults, increasingly hinder her role as slayer.

When the Sunnydale bank is attacked by a demon, while Buffy is applying for a loan, in “Flooded”, she confronts the monster with her usual witty banter; however, when she attempts to kick the demon, her attack is mired by her long formal skirt. It is a very “adult” outfit, which she has no doubt worn in hopes of make is good first impression the loan officer, and it stands in stark contrast to the super-short minis that Buffy wore throughout season one and two. “Stupid skirt,” mumbles Buffy, before grabbing a pair of scissors and slicing a long slit down its side so that she can better combat the monster.[i] In attempting to fill her obligations as head of the house and substitute parent to her sister in her mother’s absence, Buffy has altered her clothing style to such an extent that she cannot properly function as Slayer.

Though no longer wearing miniskirts, in season four Buffy still refused to wear clothing that would reflect the conformist nature of the adult word, as represented by bureaucratic and militaristic Initiative. When questioned regarding her choice of clothing in “The I in Team,” Buffy responds, “Oh, I’ve patrolled in this halter many times”. Though Buffy refused to wear the Initiative’s army fatigues, in “Flooded” she now wears a uniform of a different kind. As a college student, Buffy was not tasked with the same responsibilities that she now finds herself up against. Like so many young adults entering the working world, Buffy’s clothing style is now dictated by the norms of the adult (working) world, not her inner sense of style or personal expression. This thematic exploration is carried on throughout the season, most notably in the form of the Doublemeat Palace uniform, with its garish colours and humiliating stuffed-animal cap.

“We’re like supervillians” During the show’s first five years, the threat represented by each season’s Big Bad continually escalates, from vampire (the Master and Spike/Drusilla/Angelus) to demon (Mayor Wilkins and Adam), to God (Glory). The introduction of the Trio in “Flooded” as the season’s central villains skews this escalating scale of powerful antagonists. Jonathan, Andrew, and Warren are three nerdy boys who attended high school with Buffy, and who are clearly lacking in both power and ambition. In the scene in which they are revealed as the masterminds behind the bank heist, they appear decidedly unthreatening; Pertrie’s camera peers down on them from towering M’Fashnik’s point of view. They look silly, human, and vulnerable. The strange threat represented by the Trio is completely new to the show, in its astonishing humanity, but also in its familiarity.

All of the preceding Big Bads were introduced as new characters. Though we knew of his existence, Angelus had never appeared on the show until he bit into a hooker’s next in the alleyway in “Innocence”. Glory had never been seen before her memorable entrance in “No Place Like Home”[ii]. The same goes for Spike and his sign smashing antics in “School Hard”. By contrast, Warren appeared in season five’s “I Was Made to Love You” and notably served as the creator of the Buffy-bot, while Jonathan has been a presence on Buffy dating all the way back to the original unaired pilot. Though he is usually a background or supporting character with minimal lines, in Espenson penned episodes “like Earshot” and “Superstar”, Jonathan has taken centre stage.[iii] Jonathan and Warren are therefore quite familiar to both Buffy and the show’s faithful viewers. In fact, Justine Larbalestier argues that Jonathan is often used as a stand-in for the fans themselves (233). Even the new character, Andrew, can be considered familiar, in that his narrative positioning as Tucker’s brother, and the disclosure that he trained demons to attack the school play, provides him with an established history within the Buffy-verse.[iv]

Previous Big Bads like the Master and Glory were fascinating because they were monstrous, powerful, and strange. The Trio on the other hand are fascinating for the exact opposite reason. They are ordinary, familiar, and human. As noted in “Normal Again”, Buffy used to fight grand battles against demons and gods, but now fights, “Three boys she went to high school with, who like to play with toys.” This is, of course, in keeping with the season’s focus on the humanization of Buffy’s challenges. The ostentatious plans of villain’s like the Master and Glory have been replaced with the trio’s plan which consists merely of the “super-cool” mission statement “So, you guys wanna team up and take over Sunnday?” Unlike Glory, who explodes through a wall in a display of strength the first time we see her, the trio are introduced to us sitting on beanbag chairs, surrounded by the trappings adolescent male youth. Glory wished to use the key to open a doorway between dimensions, releasing hell on earth. The Trio want jets packs and “chicks, chicks, chicks.”

The central focus of BtVS storytelling is almost always human emotions, but these feelings were previously given physical manifestations in the form of demons and vampires. During season six, for the first time it is Sunnydale’s human monsters that take centre stage. These human monsters certainly include the Trio (who slowly become more and more villainous as the season progresses) but it also includes characters like Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Spike; each one of whom will commit monstrous acts at some point in the season. Mary Alice Money has noted the “undemonization” of supporting characters on Buffy, and this certainly continues throughout season six, most notably with the introduction of the character Clem. More significant during season six, however, and certainly more prominent, is the demonization of the show’s human characters and protagonists.

“When are you going to grow up, Xander?” Though it is a demon who planned to thwart Anya’s wedding as revenge for past grievances in “Hell’s Bells”, the decision to not go through with the marriage ultimately falls squarely on the shoulders of Mr. Xander Harris. Like Tara’s death, which will precipitate the emergence of Willow’s dark side near the end of the season, the collapse of Xander and Anya’s relationship cannot be blamed on a demonic monster. It is our hero, Xander, who acts monstrous. The cowardice which overcomes Xander on his wedding day, and the validity of Anya’s preceding concerns regarding their relationship are, like so many of the season’s major events, foreshadowed in “Flooded”.

When confronted with Buffy’s financial difficulties, Anya is the only person who provides a potential solution to the problem by suggesting that Buffy begin charging people for saving their lives. Following Anya’s financial recommendation, Petrie cuts to a shot of Xander looking notably embarrassed, and then to Tara, Willow, and Dawn, all of whom look away from Anya, refusing to engage her in conversation. Finally, Buffy responds with the condescending remark, “That’s an idea... that you would have.” When Anya turns to her fiancé for support, Xander, predictably, sides with the other Scoobies against her.

The ridicule with which the Scoobies respond to Anya’s suggestion is certainly unwarranted. On Angel, for instance, the heroes charge for their services on a regular basis. It is, therefore, certainly not ridiculous for Anya to suggest that Buffy do something similar. Sarah Zettel has argued that during the post-high school seasons of Buffy “the status of the main characters changed from all being outsiders to that of being insiders,” (110) and nowhere is it more apparent than in this scene. Despite her engagement to Xander, and her willingness to offer financial advice to Buffy, Anya remains an outsider that no one is willing to allow to enter the intimate Scoobie inner-circle. In another examination of outsider/insider status on Buffy, Margaret Bates, Emily M. Gustafson, Bryan C. Porterfield, and Lawrence B. Rosenfeld point out that, following “Hell’s Bells”, Anya’s position as outsider remains constant right up until “Selfless”, an episode that aired a full year after “Flooded”.

In “Flooded”, Petrie provides the viewer with further hints of the trepidation with which Xander approaches the marriage. He is clearly intimidated by the fact that, "this marriage thing is kind of a forever deal," and when Anya asks him if he still wants to get married, there is a significant pause before he finally responds with a timid, “Yes.” As Zettel notes, “Now that the heroes are inside and are the heavy players in the power game, they become continually more damaged and inflict more damage. Xander, rather than constantly being rejected, has the power to reject Anya” (114). Throughout this early portion of the season, Xander refuses to acknowledge that his behavior is painful and confusing for his fiancé. Anya is quite accurate in her summation that “Captain Fear” is at the wheel of the tugboat Xander, and he is indeed the scared little boy that she recognizes him to be later on in the season in “Entropy”.

Xander’s primary argument for not telling the others about the engagement is that he “still getting used to the miracle of the steady paycheck.” Xander, like Buffy, is clearly still having a difficult time adjusting to life as an adult. He is not yet ready to function in a mature relationship as a grownup. His unwillingness to support his fiancé, his inability to include her into his circle of friends, his fear at the realities of marriage and adult life, and Anya’s outsider status are all themes, developed in “Flooded”, that continue to resonate with the characters throughout the rest of the season.

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to piss me off.” Flooded’s most memorable scene is most certainly the Willow/Giles standoff in Buffy’s kitchen, in which Willow attempts to impress Giles by brazenly recounting her dangerous resurrection of Buffy. Giles accuses Willow of being, “a very stupid girl,” and a "rank, arrogant amateur” in a surprisingly aggressive response to her bragging. As the fascinating argument between the two proceeds over the course of the scene, a shift in power begins to take place. Willow moves from a passive sitting position to a more active standing position, while Giles gradually moves towards the doorway and into the shadows, as though in retreat. By the end of the scene, Willow has solidified her position of dominance, and done so with a line of dialogue that is not only the most memorable line in the episode, but one of the most memorable lines in the entire series: "You’re right. The magicks I used are very powerful. I’m very powerful, and maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to piss me off.”

If the creators of the show had not already signed on to the “Dark Willow” storyline that would end the season at this point, they undoubtedly did so after witnessing Hannigan’s brilliant performance this scene. As performers, Hannigan and Head are fully in engage in this stand-off, and Petrie and Espenson’s dialogue crackles with tension. Petrie’s visual work may lack the formal flourishes of the show’s more experienced directors, but his ability to draw performances from actors is showcased in this powerful scene. Petrie makes an effective choice in allowing viewers to forget about the camera and simply enjoy these two talented thespians’ utterly compelling performances. Like in much of the episode, rather than distract the viewer with authorial flourishes, Petrie and Espenson seem to disappear altogether, allowing to the viewer to concentrate on the myriad of themes being introduced and explored.

The dimly lit, shadow filled kitchen, and the raw anger expressed by both characters fills the scene with a sense of foreboding. Giles has cautioned Willow time and time gain about the dangers of magic, but in this scene the threat is suddenly palpable and real, for perhaps the first time. Willow’s use of magic will soon shift into a full-on magic asdrug addition metaphor, and it is most certainly in this scene that we first meet Dark Willow, even if only for a moment.[v] By the end Flooded’s most memorable scene, Petrie, Espenson, Head, and Hannigan have left no doubt that the shy and bookish Willow of earlier seasons has been transformed into an arrogant, callous, and defiant young sorceress.

“Why are you always around when I’m miserable?” Like Willow and Xander, Buffy too will be overcome by her own internal darkness and psychological weaknesses throughout much of season six. This darkness within the slayer is explored primarily through an increasingly intense relationship with the vampire, Spike. It is Spike, not a member of the Scoobie gang, with whom Buffy initially shares the secret that she has been torn from Heaven, and as the season progresses, it is Spike with whom she will ultimately share her body. Buffy’s movement into Spike’s world of shadows is depicted as not merely a centripetal movement towards a heart of darkness, but also, significantly, a centrifugal movement away from her friends and family. Buffy is unable to relate to those to whom she should be closest, for it is they who have torn her from heaven and forced her back into the mortal coil.

Buffy confides to Spike in “Flooded”, telling him, “I feel like I’m spending all of my time trying to be okay, so that they [her friends] don’t worry. It’s exhausting.” Buffy’s behavior around her friends following her resurrection is a performance that she must enact in order to convince them that everything is okay. It is only when she is with Spike that Buffy really feels alive, for Spike is the only one who allows Buffy to be her true self. He not only encourages her to acknowledge her pain, but also encourages her to embrace it. Through Spike, Buffy learns to pleasure and pain are not necessarily antithetical.

This exploration of pain, pleasure, power, submission, life, and death is one of the season’s primarily thematic preoccupations, and it significantly takes place away from the family unit which is traditionally the focus of the show. [vi] When Spike says to Buffy, “I’m not one for crowd’s myself these days,” Buffy replies, “Me neither.” This is important dialogue, for Buffy has always been differentiated from previous Slayers because of her group affiliation. It is suggested at various points throughout the series that Kendra, Faith, and Nicky Wood all fail as slayers because they lack the support system that Buffy finds in the Scoobies. “Flooded”, however, suggests that Buffy is becoming an increasingly solitary figure.

Though the Summers house is full of supporting characters throughout most of the episode, Petrie and Espenson go out of their way to ensure that it is relatively empty when M’Fashnik attacks. Giles and Dawn are conveniently knocked out during the villain’s initial attack, and Willow, Xander, Tara, and Anya are all, strangely, nowhere to be seen. Only Buffy and Spike are there to defend the house. In this scene we can recognize one of the first instances of Buffy and Spike’s relationship being explicitly defined through its segregation and differentiation from the rest of the group. While the Xander/Cordelia, Willow/Oz, Buffy/Riley, relationships of seasons two, three, and four were all defined through the assimilation of an outsider into the core Scooby gang, the Buffy/Spike relationship of season six specifically functions, necessarily, in opposition to that group.

Lorna Jowett argues that “Buffy’s family home, the Summers house, is consistently represented as the domestic space on Buffy and this designation is... integral to the show’s representation of family and belonging.” The use of Buffy’s house, and specifically the living room, in “Flooded” certainly supports Jowett’s argument. Early in the episode, Buffy’s friends provide financial advice in the living room; mid-episode, Buffy makes a bed for Giles on the couch in the living room, where he attempts to comfort her; and in the episode’s final scene, Buffy’s friends and family gather in the living room to mend the various items that were damaged during the battle. The living room is clearly presented as a place of community, family, and support. Buffy, however, chooses to take the fight away from the living room, where it initially begins. Rather than fight the monster in a place of support and community, with Spike’s help, Buffy moves the fight down into the dark, wet basement, where she kills the demon on her own.

Later in the season, in “Normal Again”, Buffy will again bring a demon down into the basement, only this time she will drag her friends down with it in an attempt to murder them. When Spike and Buffy have sex for the first time, again it involves a decent into a basement: they fall through the floor of a house which collapses around them as they consummate their relationship in “Smashed”.

The Buffy we see inhabiting the Summers home in “Flooded” and throughout the season is not dissimilar from the Buffy-bot that served as her replacement during her death induced sabbatical. It is only when she is away from her friends in the dark underground places of the world-the basement, Spike’s crypt, the foundation of a collapsing home-that we see the true Buffy. This Buffy, who is suffering and unable to find any joy in life, moves further and further away from her friends and deeper into the darkness of her own damaged psyche. She rejects her friends again and again, choosing to fight her battles alone in the darkness with only Spike at her side.

The absurdity of Buffy’s choice of Spike as confidant is hinted at in “Flooded” when Buffy asks Spike what he knows about finances. The line is funny because the question is so ridiculous. Spike undoubtedly loves Buffy, and he is certainly the only person who is able to make her feel truly alive for much of the season, but it is preposterous to think that he might be able to help her overcome the challenges of everyday adult life. Spike is great for killing vampires and demons, but he cannot help Buffy with the everyday problems that she now faces. As Sarah Zettel puts it, Spike is “more of someone who needs saving than someone who will help save” Buffy and her friends (115).

“I’m guessing the word your looking for is inconvenient?” Giles returns from England in “Flooded”, upon hearing news of Buffy’s resurrection. He is understandably overjoyed that Buffy is alive, and - as Buffy’s super-powered hug of Giles demonstrates - she too is happy that they have been reunited. Yet, despite their mutual affection for one another, the moments between Buffy and her Watcher are notably strained throughout the episode. Their first scene alone together in Buffy’s workout room is unusually awkward. They seem unable to say to one another what they are feeling. This lack of effective communication is emphasized when Buffy attempts to complete Giles’ sentence for him, with failed results:

Giles: Leaving Sunnydale was difficult. Coming back is...
Buffy: I’m guessing the word you’re looking for is inconvenient?
Giles: No. Difficult.

In tandem with this stilted dialogue, the composition of Petrie’s establishing shot works to visualize the disconnect between the two characters. Giles is positioned on the left side of the screen and Buffy to the right. Between them hangs Buffy’s punching bag, which serves as a divider, separating them from one another. They have been reunited through Buffy’s resurrection, but they are still cut off from one another, both physically and emotionally.

As the scene closes, one senses that not enough has been said, that the proper connections have not been made. Giles exits the room with a slow walk backwards, as though he realizes that things have been left unfinished, unsaid. Giles clearly wants to help Buffy, but she seems unwilling to allow him to do so. Of course, to do so would require that she actually involved herself in the events that are taking place around her, rather than experiencing them as the numbed passive observer that she has become. As Willow puts it, since her resurrection Buffy has not “exactly been big with the whole range of human emotions thing.”

When Buffy turns the living room couch into a makeshift bed for Giles, she again pulls away from engagement with her mentor. Like in the training room sequence, she is withdrawn emotionally and physically. When Giles reaches out to comfort her in this scene, Buffy pulls away completely, and Giles touches only air. This is rather appropriate, for Buffy, in a sense, has become a ghost of her former self. She has been returned from the dead, but she is not really there. When those around her try to connect with her, like Giles, all they touch is air. This ghost theme is expanded upon and made explicit later on in the season, most notably in David Fury’s episode “Gone”.

In the final moments of “Flooded”, Buffy receives a phone call from Angel. She immediately flees the house, mumbling “Thanks for looking after this,” to Giles, as she flies out the door to meet with Angel somewhere between L.A. and Sunnydale. In returning to Sunnydale, Giles has given Buffy all the more opportunity to withdraw from engagement with friends, family, and life itself. Rather than learn to accept the realties of adult life, having Giles back allows Buffy to remain the child. Already in “Flooded” Giles is beginning to realize the detrimental affects that his Slayer’s over-dependence on him will have. This recognition will ultimately lead to his departure from Sunnydale later in the season.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It’s Incredibly Important”

Early in “Flooded”, during a breakfast scene, Buffy stands at the sink while Willow, Tara, and Dawn prepare breakfast at the counter behind her. Petrie initially frames the scene using a deep focus lens that allows both Buffy (in the foreground), and Willow, Tara, and Dawn (in the background) to remain in focus at the same time. In doing so, Petrie effectively establishes that Buffy is in the same space as the other characters, yet her placement in the extreme foreground separates her from the others. While they move about doing daily chores and getting ready for a new day, Buffy simply stares at the water flowing out of the faucet and down the drain. The camera pushes in on Buffy, emphasizing her hypnotic dream like state. As she watches the water, she absentmindedly tells Dawn of how "incredibly important" breakfast is, but her blank stare and monotone delivery make it clear that nothing is incredibly important to Buffy anymore. She is numb to everything. She would just as soon watch water disappear down a drain as she would save the world or help her sister get ready for school. Especially given the previous season’s (over) emphasis on protecting Dawn, Buffy’s willingness to totally ignore her in season six feels all the more pronounced.

Buffy-unlike so many other television shows that remain in permanent stasis season after season-is about change. Characters are affected by the events that they experience. By the end of any given season, they are not the same characters that they were at the beginning. They have learned from their triumphs and from their failures. In her essay, (written pre-season six) Justine Larbalestier notes that “each season has shown Buffy growing and learning and increasing in both strength and confidence” (236). And yet, in season six, Buffy’s primarily problem is her inability to change, her inability to grab hold of the new life that has been granted to her. Buffy has worried in the past that being the slayer means being unable to feel anything, and her resurrection has confirmed her worst fears. She has become emotionally dead. She is no longer living, growing, and learning. As her blank stare as she stands at the sink testifies, she is now stagnating. After she kills M’Fashnik at the end of the episode, Buffy again stands watching the water drip from the same leaky pipe that we saw in the episode’s opening scene. Despite her assurances that she will get a loan, that she will conquer the challenge presented by Mr. Dippy, Buffy finishes the episode no different than how she began it. She has failed to get a loan, failed to fix the pipes, and failed to learn from her experiences. She has not changed and she will not change for most of the season. It is not until she once again crawls from a grave, in the season’s final moments, that Buffy will finally break free from the paralysis which grips her for so much of the season.

In Closing

With scholarship so focused on episodes written and directed by Joss Whedon, it is not surprising that the singular importance of “Flooded” has not previously been noted. While some seem content with revisiting “Hush” and “Restless” time and time again, less obvious episodes sit awaiting revelatory analysis. “Flooded” is not Buffy’s most memorable episode, nor is the show’s most technically accomplished. It is, however, one of season six’s most important episodes and most certainly worthy of close examination. The fact that “Flooded” fails to call attention to itself is in perfect keeping with BtVS thematic concerns throughout season six, and tells us much about the season as a whole. For the show’s sixth year, grandiose plans are replaced with modest strategies; extraordinary monsters with ordinary people; staunch individualism with willing compromise; friendship and intimacy with alienation and secrecy; change and fluidity with stasis and stagnation. If we are to truly understand such a season, then perhaps it is time that we turn our attention away Joss Whedon and look to the likes Marti Noxton, David Fury, Jane Epenson, and Douglas Petrie; for they too play complex roles in the shaping of the series.

With the significant shift in thematic interest and narrative approach during season six, BtVS did not loose any of its depth or complexity; rather, it sharpened its focus, and in doing so became all the more relevant. By season six, the show’s creator no longer needed to shield their humanist concerns with the trapping of metaphor and epic. Season six is unabashedly about people and the everyday problems they face in early adulthood. It is about learning that life does not get easier after high school, and that the scars of teenage experience become the neurosis of adult life. It is about finally realizing how difficult it was for our parents to raise us, and about doing our best to fill their shoes. It is one of Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s most fascinating seasons, and it is all purposefully, skillfully, and delicately established in Petrie and Espenson’s brilliant blueprint episode, “Flooded”.