by Sanguine

As I started reviewing episodes with Triangle, I am going back to older episodes as they air and reviewing them as well.

James Marsters (in an interview from Summer 1999):

Just for my own edification, I do sometimes wonder what's up with this guy [Spike]. My feeling was that he probably wasn't such a great guy before he became a vampire. He was probably a jerk . . . But see, this is the thing. Later on, we'll find out that he was a choir boy.

Spike was no choir boy before he was turned. He was William, the Bloody Awful Poet. And with that stroke of genius Doug Petrie got us all hot and bothered about Spike.

Fool for Love is one of the best Buffy episodes of all time. Why? Because within the generic constraints of BTVS, it took what we thought we knew about two established characters and turned that received knowledge on its ear. The Body was a brilliant episode, but it could have been an episode of almost any exceptionally well-written, well-produced television show. Joss purposely kept the supernatural element to a minimum in The Body, and I agree with his decision. On the other hand, Fool for Love had all the elements of a vintage Buffy episode with its humourous banter and impressive fight scenes. But it was also profound, raising some difficult questions and never quite answering them. Why do Slayers die? What is their relationship to vampires? Do they love death? How much of the human remains when a vampire is vamped? Are all vampires equally evil? That we're still debating these questions after all this time is a testament to the brilliance of Doug Petrie's episode.

The episode begins with a fight scene in the cemetery. Just like almost every other night, Buffy is out saving the world in her own trademarked way. She asks her current prey, who looks like an escapee from an eighties' hair band, "Did you smell this bad when you were alive?" So far just another standard night on the Hellmouth. But then the unexpected happens. Buffy, perhaps feeling overconfident, does a double flip over a gravestone as she prepares to thrust Mr. Pointy home. But the vampire grasps her arm and impales her in the stomach. As Spike says to Buffy later in the episode, "You can kill a hundred. A thousand. A thousand thousand and the armies of Hell besides. But all we need . . . is for one of us, just one, sooner or later, to have the thing we all are hoping for . . . One. Good. Day." Indeed, Spike's description of how he killed the other two Slayers highlights the fragility of the Slayer's existence. The vampire in the graveyard certainly wasn't anything special. He got lucky. Spike, a determined fighter who embraced the challenge of Slayer-killing wholeheartedly and without apparent fear, was nevertheless almost bested in his first two encounters with "his" Slayers. During the Boxer Rebellion, Spike fought the Chinese Slayer, but she was gaining the upper hand. Then an explosion outside distracts them, and Spike capitalises on the opportunity. He slips his fang into the Slayer's neck and has a "real good day." Spike's killing of the second Slayer is also somewhat dependent on luck. Billy-Idol Spike (one of my favourite Spike looks by the way) is "dancing" with his Slayer in a subway car. Nikki the Slayer has the advantage as she sits on top of Spike, relentlessly pummeling the vampire. But then the unexpected happens. The car is suddenly plunged into darkness, and Spike takes this opportunity to gain the advantage. When the lights come back on, he's on top. Ruthlessly he snaps the Slayer's neck and takes her leather duster as a trophy. While luck and opportunity certainly played a role in Spike's success, Spike's final explanation of why he could kill the Slayers is unsettling and the veracity of his statements are still being debated:

Death is on your heels baby, and sooner or later, it's going to catch you . . . And some part of you wants it. Not only to stop the fear and the uncertainty, but because you're just a little bit in love with it.

Death is your art. You make it with you hands, day after day. That final gasp, that look of peace . . . Part of you is desperate to know . . . What's it like? Where does it lead you? . . . So you see, that's the secret. Not the punch she didn't throw or the kick she didn't land. She simply wanted it. Every Slayer has a death wish.

Is Spike right? A Slayer is certainly a killer by nature. Death is her art. It's what she does. Here Spike makes an unsettling comparison between what he does (killing) and what the Slayer does (killing). Both Spike and Buffy are warriors, although they have battled on opposite sides for many years. But because of his own battle wounds, perhaps Spike has special insight into what makes a Slayer, a warrior, a killer, tick. Is Buffy in love with death? If Spike is right, and Spike is death personified, then maybe it would explain why Buffy hasn't staked him already (just joking). But what evidence do we have besides Spike's word that Slayer's have a death wish? Both Nikki and the Boxer Rebellion Slayer battled valiantly against death until the very end. However, Buffy's answer to Spike's "lesson" is cryptic. She neither confirms nor refutes what he says. She replies, "Get out of my sight, Spike. Now." Later, after he tries to kiss her, Buffy hisses with apparent loathing, "Say it's true. Say I do want to [dance? kiss? embrace death? what?] . . . It wouldn't be you, Spike. It would never be you. You're beneath me." In the end, Petrie opts for ambiguity. Perhaps the Slayer has a death wish, perhaps she doesn't. We'll have to wait and see if her "darkness" manifests itself in the remaining episodes of this season.

Spike's reaction to Buffy's rejection (crying and then murderous rage) brings us to the next major issue raised by this episode. Who is Spike and how much of William remains inside him? In this episode Spike ostensibly tells Buffy the tale of how he became a vampire, but I have a feeling that he left out some rather major details . . . like the fact that he was a lovesick geek in his former human existence. I sincerely doubt he told Buffy this, as it would have made him far too vulnerable. The flashback is prompted by Buffy's question, "Were you always this big a pain in the ass?" Spike smirked and replied, "What can I tell you baby? I've always been bad." We then cut to what the shooting script describes as "the biggest sissy imaginable." It's William, the Bloody Awful Poet, the man who launched a thousand redemptionistas ships. William, like the vampire Spike he becomes, is always on the fringes of society, never accepted, desperate to prove himself. William loves Cecily and pens really bad poetry to prove his devotion. She's having none of it, however, and like Buffy in Crush is profoundly disgusted by his declarations of love. The Victorian Scooby Gang in the parlour is also not terribly fond of William. After William is "rescued from mediocrity" by Dru, he self-consciously creates a new vampiric persona . . . the affected lower class accent, the new clothes, the celebration of violence (which William had found unseemly) . . . everything Spike does as a fledgling vampire is in reaction to the person he was when human. This is not normal vampire behaviour; Angelus is annoyed by Spike's affectations. It's really quite sad. Spike hated William so much that he felt the need to recraft his own identity into something more acceptable. Spike has always self-consciously tried to be Big and Bad in order to prove himself to both Angelus and Dru. And the best way he knew to prove his evil identity was to slay Slayers. That's why Spike became obsessed. To kill a Slayer was to prove to himself, to prove to everyone, that for the first time in his life he was acceptable. He was part of the "in" crowd. He was good at what he did. Death was <b>his</b> art.

But as much as Spike wanted to run, he ultimately couldn't hide from William. His obsessively loyal love for Drusilla, his black princess, was testament to that. Like William, Spike has always been, and continues to be "love's bitch." Like William, Spike is profoundly insecure. Like William, Spike is still an outsider. He can't kill anymore and his pursuit of demons and vamps has made him an outcast amongst the evil and undead. He is ostracised from human society too as both the Scooby Gang and Buffy seem to loathe him. Like William, Spike is emotional and sensitive. And finally, and most controversially, like William, sometimes Spike is capable of the very human emotions of compassion and sympathy.

At the end of Fool for Love Doug Petrie wrote one of the most controversial moments in the history of BTVS. Depending on your perspective, it either confirms that Spike does love Buffy, is capable of a selfless act, and even has a kernel of good inside, or demonstrates that he is simply a manipulative bastard who is capitalising on an opportunity to slip into Buffy's life, and hopefully later, her pants. Whatever you believe, here's how the scene appeared onscreen. After a flashback with Drusilla that shows that Spike's Buffy-wuv or obsession predated the chip, we see a camera shot from Spike's point of view as he watches Buffy hug her knees on the porch. We (the audience) know that Buffy has just found out that her mother may be very sick. Spike cocks the gun and Buffy looks up, her face tear-stained. "What is it now?" she asks, seemingly unconcerned that death (Spike) has come to find her with a big ol' shotgun. Spike looks at her. Slowly the gun sinks to his side. He cocks his head and his face softens (William?). According to the shooting script, James was directed to convey the following emotions: "Spike registers her pain, her vulnerability. He balks." I also see concern on Spike's face. In any case, Spike asks, "What's wrong?" Buffy doesn't want to talk about it. Then Spike asks a "selfless" question: "Is there something I can do?" Buffy looks puzzled and doesn't answer. Spike sits beside her. According to the directions in the shooting script, he "places the gun aside, reaches out to her. Awkwardly pats her on the shoulder, trying to comfort her. She lets him try. He withdraws his hand. And the two of them sit side-by-side, silent in the evening's darkness . . . " BLACKOUT. In that moment, some people saw the possibility of Spike changing. In that moment, Spike's desire may have been kindled to do good deeds to impress Buffy. In that moment, a thousand lengthy (and sometimes hurtful) debates were spawned. In that moment, BTVS changed forever. Spike could never go back to being a simple bad guy who was good for a spot of comic relief. He has transcended that. No one knows what will happen to his character now. I am hopeful that it will be something . . . effulgent.