"I wish that Joyce didn’t die because she was nice and now we all hurt" - Anya
9.5
This is the second of three of Joss Whedon’s experimental episodes, but whilst Hush and Once More With Feeling are highly stylised (Bros. Grimm and B. Berkeley respectively), The Body is of the realist genre, the purpose being to bring us closer to the subject matter. The fourth wall is removed as we see the gang acting like real people rather than witty TV characters, and hear the silence not usually allowed on TV. Buffy TVS has always been about death but not in this way. There’s no exploding corpses, no murder weapons, no soaring music or comforting words, just a repeat of the last few seconds that Buffy believes her mother to be alive before we go into the credits. The happy family Christmas scene, in which we discover that Santa Claus is real (but not benevolent), juxtaposes nicely with the bleak reality back on the sofa, the bridge being disaster - Buffy sees an analogy between the burned and dropped pie and her mother. Back in the now Buffy tries to resuscitate her mother and she cracks her rib, the slayer super strength is a hindrance; indeed, Buffy can fight all manner of demons and vampires but she can’t fight disease and decay. She has coped with the death of her friends, her boyfriend and many others, but nothing like this, not a natural death, not her mother who’s always been there. The series-long theme of Buffy being forced to grow up continues. Joss plays on Joyce’s death by natural causes by making the episodes naturalistic: the silences, the awkward conversations where no-one says the right thing, the long scenes, the arthouse-y focus on inanimate objects, the tracking shots of one person, the concentration on corporeal functions. At the same time Buffy has no sense of this being real, she tries to stop Giles going into the living room – if he sees the corpse, it makes it true. Her distorted reality is shown by her viewpoint with the paramedic half out of shot and her fantasies that she could have saved her mother or hearing different words than the doctor is saying. She can’t focus. Buffy is used to having power, saving people, saving the world: having no power to stop something hits her very hard. The death is portrayed as inevitable; the paramedics couldn’t have saved Joyce, if Buffy had been at home rather than watching April the robot die, she still couldn’t have averted it, she would just have watched her mother die instead. As with everything in Buffy TVS this is analogous to what people feel about death and their inability to prevent it.
The gang are going through the various stages associated with accepting the death of a loved one. Xander is angry, looking for someone to blame, stating that “things don’t just happen” – we know that they do, this is a meaningless death, nothing to do with Glory or a vampire. Willow is trying so hard to stay in control that she is losing control and focusing on irrelevancies: what to say, what to do, what to wear. She’s trying so hard that the smallest things become impossible. Tara is the only one who’s strong and supportive and the couple share their first kiss, beautifully timed and all about love; not sex. Tara’s “Amazon” strength is shown again later when she is the only one who can empathise with Buffy as she too lost her mother. Just as Buffy’s strength became weakness when trying to CPR her mother, Tara’s weakness – being outside the gang -becomes her strength as Buffy doesn’t feel she has to be strong for her. Tara can understand without presuming to know what Buffy is feeling: “It’s different for you; because it’s always different”. That said, death is the only thing that unites us and that’s why this ep is so powerful, we can all relate to the death of a loved one, or the fear of the death of a loved one. Conversely, none of us likes to think about it and so even though we know death is going to happen, it’s still horrific when it does. Life is spent in denial of death, even for Buffy who has spent so much time around it. Tara says: “It’s always sudden”: however old someone is, death always comes too soon.
Anya, the ex-immortal doesn’t understand. The most moving scene in the whole 45 minutes is when Anya is struggling to comprehend what’s going on. She’s wreaked death and destruction on men for hundreds of years, and seen quite a lot since she became human, but this is entirely different. Everyone else is fighting to be in control, but she isn’t. We think she’s being her usual brusque self when she asks questions as to what will happen to the body, and about morgue etiquette, but she seriously doesn’t know what she should be doing; she even tries to take cues from Willow (“should I be changing my clothes?”). She asks because she’s new to humanity, but we all want to know what to do when someone dies, how to act, what to say. She also vocalises all of our lack of comprehension of death, she can vocalise what we have learned to hide when we grow up:
“I don't understand! I don't understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, I knew her, and then she's, there's just a body, and I don't understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore. It's stupid. It's mortal and stupid. And Xander's crying and not talking, and I was having fruit punch, and I thought, well, Joyce will never have any more fruit punch ever, and she'll never have eggs, or yawn or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why.”
Joyce’s body has stopped working and this is emphasised by the rough treatment of her corpse, she is now just a body, Buffy’s assertion, after the ambulance men have (illegally) left Joyce in the living room, that no-one is “supposed to move the body” makes her realise that this is what Joyce has become. The end of Joyce’s existence is further emphasised by the bodily functions of the other characters – Buffy’s vomit seeping into the kitchen towel, the hot sweat on her brow, Xander’s bloody hand (making Anya again fear his mortality) – all things alive people can do and dead people can’t.
Anya asks why this has happened - a space usually filled with religion, but atheist Joss is not going to go that way. The Sunnydalers know that there is life after death but this episode does not address this, only the absurdity and unfairness of now you’re here, now you’re not life ‘n’ death. Human mortality is even more unjust since they know of the existence of Gods and monsters who, if not immortal, have lived an awful long time. And life goes on. When Buffy opens the back door into the too-light world of Other People she can hear children and music playing. Xander is still ticketed for double parking; the warden is not part of their drama. Space and silence are the key themes in the episode; the writers have used Science and English school lessons as a shortcut to their meaning before, but this is the first time they’ve used Art. The teacher advises Dawn and her classmates to focus on the space around the object – Joss does the same as he uses silence, the negative space, around the dialogue: we see Xander and Anya wordless in the car, and Willow’s quiet obsessing over her blue jumper. Dawn’s bad day turned good – when the cute boy admires and understands her point of view and criticises this year’s Cordelia turns very very bad, and again we have the silence as Dawn breaks down, we don’t hear her, instead we see the students’ and teacher’s sympathy and Dawn’s unfinished picture of a body. Take away life and you only have a body - you have a space where the person was. When Dawn, not prepared to admit the truth until she’s seen the body, asks “Where did she go?”, we only get silence. Dawn is asking where a person’s personality goes when their body dies, rather than asking if Joyce has gone to heaven or hell, but again Joss doesn’t give us any answers, only a space for us to fill with whatever we believe. The vampire that Buffy grapples with (her instinct for a) trouble and b) protecting Dawn) piercing her numbness) is more alive, veins filled with more blood, than her mother. It’s a cliché – the naked vamp rising from the hospital bed and silently approaching Dawn – but a shock as the viewer forgets they are watching a vampire show. The fight is brutal, lacking the fancy kung-fu action we’re used to from the vampire population of Sunnydale, and also shows Buffy dealing with death the way she knows how; she is the bright red light in the blue-tinted morgue.