“The Longest Day”
-Dawson
learned the truth in this episode. Did “The Longest Day” fundamentally
alter the lives of viewers? I know I revered this episode when I first watched
it in summer 2003. As a stupid teenager I sympathized with Dawson. As an oft-bearded
man I sympathize with Joey, and Pacey. Every character, except for Jen, Will,
and Mitch, treat Pacey like he’s a hell-demon that deserves to feel the absence
of love, because hell-demons don’t deserve love. Guess what? Dawson Leery is
the hell-demon, an incubus, a near-psychotic with control issues and who
controls Joey through guilt and fear. Their scene in Act IV is insane. Dawson
feels he has a claim on Joey because of the soul mate belief, and because they
were each other’s first loves. Andie, too, believes it. Dougie believes it.
Dawson unleashes unholy hell on Joey for daring to feel for Pacey Witter.
Dawson asked Pacey to take care of her after he, Dawson, rejected her advances
in the season three premiere. Pacey and Joey formed a bond, a connection, and
he bought a wall for her. The Dawson of it all, which I rambled about
yesterday, lasted awhile in the series. After Dawson shouts words at her about
losing him forever, about her losing self-worth if she decides to be with Pacey
(because Pacey only wants her body, he believes), she walks to where Pacey
sits, his True Love docked a few feet from him, while his true love
stands before him to end it. Pacey heard Dawson shout he wants sex and nothing
else from Joey; he heard from Doug how he’ll end up alone because Joey will
never feel what she feels for Dawson; and Andie asks Pacey how stupid he is to
mess with the destined soul mates. It is a bizarre and insane episode, broken
up in Rashomon style, allowing for four different perspectives in the
episode; however, it’s not as complex as the style of the episode makes it. The
drama in “The Longest Day” is basic for many teens. Hurt feelings, people
pairing off at the expense of someone’s broken heart, tension within a group,
and yada yada. Dawson’s insane verbal vomit that’s harsh enough to make Joey
cry comes from a hurt, wounded place in his mind. Dawson’s Creek, especially in
Williamson’s seasons, and in the third, depicted self-aware and sharply
articulate teenagers who still couldn’t communicate how they felt or know how
to act sometimes because they’re teenagers. One may possess the eloquence of
Shakespeare’s Petruchio but one has not the experience nor the maturity nor the
specific eloquence with which to deal with the girl you love choosing someone
else instead of you. Dawson’s writing is poor. The writers hit the wrong beats
over and over. Joey’s more a possession, an object, to Dawson than soul mate.
He wants her when he can’t have her. The writers gave him a victim complex. Jen
and Joey conversed about why the woman in a triangle becomes the villain. Joey
points out she’ll hurt one of them. Jen states that men usually depict the
woman who wrong them as the villain. Of course, the series is still filtered
through Dawson’s worldview. Dawson’s the director, the creator, the shaper of
the narrative, and he treats the soul mate distinction as a thing of medieval
Arthurian lore, as the holy grail, so when he finds it is his by rites of the
Lord God above. Will told Andie the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice during their
overwhelming first date on the creek, suggested by Dawson, for thematic
parallel reasons. Orpheus lost Eurydice and then went to Hades to rescue her.
He won her freedom from Hades, but he could not look back at her while they
traveled home. Orpheus, fearing she’d disappear, looked back, and she
disappeared into “thin air.” Will needed to sit Dawson next to Andie in the
rowboat for the story. The writers identified Dawson as Orpheus and Andie as
Orpheus. Both don’t want to lose their Eurydices to Hades. Hades is Pacey, also
known as the hell-demon of “The Longest Day.” Dana Barrata’s script succeeds as
a tragic love story--it’s doubly tragic: Dawson, Joey, and Pacey are alone at
the end. No, my mistake: Jen comforts Dawson of all folk; so, Dawson, who
threatened Pacey and Joey with a lifetime of loneliness, receives comfort from
his friend, while the other miserably break apart and end up alone. Fiction
follows a long tried and true tradition of the villain triumphing before the
end. Indeed, Dawson triumphs in keeping his former best friend and always soul
mate apart, but it’s temporary. True Love prevails, after all.
-I
would’ve liked a passing reference to a Chekhov short story, “About Love,” in
which Alehin tells a story about a woman he loved, that culminates in an
epiphany he experienced about love. The library serves as a recurring set. None
of the characters read a book or a story while there.
-I
adore season three Jen Lindley. She’s the best. She’s absolutely the best.
Kevin Williamson probably disliked the cheerleader arc, but I adore it. I like
Jen and Henry together. I love how chill Jen is. Her and Jack hang out
drama-free under the stars on a hot summer night. Her and Pacey hook up
drama-free for a spell of episodes in season three until Dawson and Joey ruin that.
-True
Love does not prevail. A storm destroys the boat in “The Two Gentlemen of
Capeside,” #403. Dawson is cast as the brokenhearted selfless hero.
-Will
was the lead, I guess, in the failed spin-off of Dawson’s Creek, Young
Americans. Ian Somerhalder was in the main cast with Kate Bosworth.
Michelle Monoghan and Charlie Hunnam appeared in guest roles. Kerry Ehrin wrote
the third episode. Ehrin later wrote for Friday Night Lights and
co-created Bates Motel. I liked Will. I don’t know why the
writers didn’t bring the character back in season four. The WB cancelled the
series after eight episodes. One last fun fact: the series preceded Dawson’s
Creek in devoting many parts of an episode to product placement.
-Anyone looking to excel at passive-aggression may study Dawson in the scene when he tells Joey how The Last Picture show ended. Ah, Dawson, what a villain.
“Doppelgangland”
-Willow had ‘one
of those days.’ You know that day. Nothing’s right. Everyone around you walks
all over you, you feel, or makes fun of you as they never do. ‘One of those
days’ is more about you than them, though. Any other episode Willow wouldn’t
have felt insulted by ‘Ol’ Reliable.’ Her powers increase as a witch—she’s
spinning pencils in the air. Her human powers are the same. Snyder and Percy
run over her. At least with Anya Willow takes with her the chicken feet when
she leaves the spell area.
-“Doppelgangland”
is the lone sequel to “The Wish.” Anya mourns her lost vengeance demon power.
Anya’s line about failing mail and being 1100 years old crack me up all these
years later. Joss Whedon wrote and directed the episode. He made it look easy.
-Adorably sweet
scene when Xander, Buffy, and Giles see Willow alive and well. The existence of
two Willows creates good dramatic irony. Whedon’s Shakespearean admiration
subtly comes through in the aforementioned scene as well as the scene in which
Angel breaks the terrible news to Buffy.
-Anya and Willow
working together on the spell that accidentally brings Vamp Willow to
Sunnydale, instead of sending Anya to Wish-verse, struck me. I thought of
“Triangle,” a season five episode in contrast to them working together. Anya
and Willow don’t bond, but, you know, Whedon didn’t know the arc of the Anya
character beyond. Actually, I’m certain he did. This dude pitched five seasons
of Firefly and Dollhouse to FOX.
-The episode is
Shakespeare-lite. Identity swaps and role reversals. The characters do not
dance at the end of the episode, though. Shakespeare’s comedies do end with a
‘flourish.’ Every actor had the chance to act as his or her character’s
opposite. Sarah act as Faith and the Buffybot; Xander played vamp Xander and
double Xander (who is completely lucky, successful, and not a renter in his
childhood home, because he owns his own place); Tony Head played Giles the
teenager in “Band Candy”; Boreanaz played Angelus.
-Cordelia and
Wesley. Wesley saved Cordelia from Vamp Willow. Alexis Denisof nailed Wesley
from his first episode until his last. One day I might write a long essay about
Wesley. Wesley’s my favorite character in all the Whedonverse. I love dopey,
nerdy, awkward Wesley as I love dark, scarred throat, scruffy Wesley in ANGEL
and all that happens between the extremes of his characterization. Season 1 of ANGEL
Wesley taught me to dance. The character’s not different from season 3 Wesley.
Anyway, yes, I learned to dance by watching “She.” I lost to my friend, Bryan
Jawn, in a dance contest at senior year homecoming 2004. Cordy and Wesley kiss
in “Graduation Day.” They’re co-workers until Wesley kidnaps Connor, and her
body is hijacked by Jasmine before Wesley returns to Angel Investigations.
Season 5 wipes those memories. “Origin” restores the memories, in a great,
great episode. Cordy and Wes share a sweet and tender reunion in “You’re
Welcome,” ANGEL’s 100th episode. It all matters in Whedon’s stories.
-“This world’s
no fun.” “You noticed that too.” Oh, the Willows. I’d hug them both. Joss makes
storytelling seem easy. Willow can’t
let her doppelganger die. Her doppelganger is her. Joss told a story about
duality in a fun, witty story about alternate dimensions, playacting, and bad
days, but it's sneaky in its duality and identity theme. Teenager concentrate on fixed, singular identities. What’s cool then is what
they’ll follow and what they’ll be.
Duality implies two halves. We contain multitudes. By the end Willow recognizes
the power within herself—with the help of a sad, wandering, and aimless vampire
from an alternate hell dimension. She's both and more, "and a little gay", and that's okay.
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