Reviewed by Sanguine

Jane Espenson’s brilliant episode, Afterlife, demonstrated that she has developed into one of the finest writers on the ME staff. Indeed, her effort was far superior to Marti Noxon and David Fury’s offering last week, Bargaining. The dialogue was sharper, the characterizations more acute, and the emotions presented more genuine. While last week’s episode lent itself to complicated and perchance convoluted readings based in Freudian theory (ahem) this week’s episode was less about a symbolic rebirth--a Freudian escape from the womblike coffin. Rather, it was about the ramifications of that rebirth. Afterlife provided viewers with a map of where ME will take us this season. And the direction of the show may not please those opposed to blurry distinctions between good and evil. Sometimes the villains are your best friends.

In terms of what I have called the season’s map: Espenson sets forth several themes that I suspect will recur. At the beginning of the episode we see Dawn taking care of a virtually catatonic Buffy--an interesting reversal considering Buffy’s maternal role last season. Carefully, Dawn cleans the surface dirt from Buffy’s face, but she cannot heal her wounds, symbolically or literally. Buffy’s hands are bloodied, a reminder of her ordeal, her escape from her own coffin. Dawn wants to connect emotionally with her sister, but Buffy is incapable; instead she concentrates entirely on the material. What objects have been moved in the house? What has changed since she’s been away? Buffy asks these questions as if the time she spent in the ether could be recovered by understanding how the material world has changed in her absence. But Buffy knows better.

Everything has changed. Buffy has changed. And we’ve reached point #1 on the map: Resurrection ain’t easy. On anyone. The "demon" of the week highlighted this point. It was the semi-corporeal manifestation of the Scoobies’ guilt. It said all the things Buffy couldn’t. It indicted them--called them children. And indeed, in some respects they had behaved like children. Their friend had been taken away and they would do anything to get her back. They engaged in spells that they never would have attempted before. And in Willow’s case, she convinced herself that her actions--even the most gruesome ones--were justified. For Willow, Buffy *had* to be in hell; it was the only way she could "quiet the voices in her head" (her conscience) enough to allow her to perform a spell she knew transgressed the laws of nature.

The poignant scene between Buffy and Dawn is interrupted by the arrival of Spike. Slowly, Buffy descends the stairs. As usual, Marsters did a brilliant job of conveying conflicting emotions through his vivid facial expressions. Spike asks Dawn, "What did you do?" Of course, Dawn didn’t do anything. In this matter, she is wholly innocent. In fact, Dawn and Spike are the only people (besides the absent Giles) who are not culpable for the "crime" of Buffy’s resurrection. Point #2 on the map: Resentment is a many splendoured thing, mate. And I know I’d feel a tad bit resentful if my "friends" had ripped me out of Heaven. Not nice. Not nice at all.

Spike notices the wounds on Buffy’s hands and comprehends their meaning. He knows she had to claw herself out of her coffin and he understands that her recovery will be a process; life simply cannot go as before. He asks Dawn for first aid equipment. Point #3: Spike understands some of what Buffy is going through and because of this, Buffy feels as if she can tell him things she can’t reveal to anyone else. In short, Spike may be the only one, by virtue of his non-participation in her resurrection and his own experience being dead, who can heal her wounds. In fact, later in the episode, he intentionally injures his own hand. He wants to feel the same pain as she does. He too is wounded. The final, heartrending scene of the episode confirms Spike’s new role as Buffy’s confidante. She reveals to him that she wasn’t "saved" from hell; she was taken back there. Then she extracts a promise from Spike, a promise that will undoubtedly have long-lasting repercussions: the Scoobies can never know what she told him. So, Spike will have the knowledge that Buffy’s friends did something perfectly hideous to her. Obviously, Spike’s camaraderie with the gang, what little there was, will be strained to the point of breaking.

The scene between Spike and Xander reveals yet another point on this season’s map. Xander sees Spike under the tree and confronts him (and, as in Bargaining, Nick Brendon does a brilliant job, proving that if he is given good material, he shines). Spike, taking the role of the voice of morality (and let me just say, I *never* thought those words would come from my mouth when I watched Season 2 Spike), wonders if Willow knew the spell might go wrong; she knew she might have to kill a defective Buffy, and she realized that Spike wouldn’t let her. Xander begins to have doubts about Willow, his oldest friend. And here we’ve reached the final point on our map: "That’s the thing about magic. There’s always consequences." Indeed, there will be consequences. Xander and Willow’s friendship could disintegrate under the weight of his growing suspicion. Willow and Tara’s relationship might wither and die as Willow grows powerful enough to manipulate her lover’s mind with magic. In short, there will be much badness.

I can’t wait.