The Q Generation

You know what I am sick of - being labelled by ageing baby boomers who insist that everything was so much better in their day.

You know what, maybe it was. But YOU are the generation who took the promise of the post-WW2 world and fucked it right in the nuts.

This has recently been revived by a column in the New York Times by noted neo-liberal Thomas Friedman. Friedman is the type of liberal who has a massive hard-on for capitalism and globalisation, but really only in a very specific Western sense. He does have a heart, in that he doesn’t believe that the market solves all problems, and he mostly takes the stolid, centrist liberal ground on matters. He has sold millions of books extolling the benefits of our current market system. As Wise Old Men go, he isn’t the worst, but he has calcified and become a part of the Old Boys Network who hates to rock the boat – and can often display a Heathers-like bitchiness to those slightly to the left of him.

Friedman’s column is one of the Oh Woe for the Younger Generation pieces which, frankly piss me off. They are almost always written by men and women in middle to late age who suddenly find themselves left behind. They look at their paunchy belies and thinning hair and get all misty eyed about their own youth. The sixties has been lionised to such an extent by a culture that they themselves have created that their sense of self-satisfaction is constantly being fed. And they look at the younger generations and shake their head with false piety and intone “Where the activism?”.

Perhaps its unfair to pick on Friedman in particular – his is just the latest retread of a piece of conventional wisdom that doubles as a giant circle wank. There is virtually no understanding about how the world has changed and how the scale of difficulties and problems has led to a kind of paralysis amongst people of my generation. How do I affect something like global warming when governments filled with Old White Men can barely agree on what the scale of the issue is? This isn't about forcing a national government to pass civil rights legislation. Its about trying to get China, India and America to cooperate for a higher good than national interest. And we can see how easy that is.

Friedman says;

That’s what twentysomethings are for — to light a fire under the country.
But they can’t e-mail it in, and an online petition or a mouse click for carbon
neutrality won’t cut it. They have to get organized in a way that will force
politicians to pay attention rather than just patronize them.

I say bollocks. The last two times that twentysomethings tried to force an issue (in the Globalisation and Iraq War protests of the late nineties and noughties), we were dismissed as out of touch, naive and childish by men exactly like Friedman. People of my generation stood up and said that these issues were vital to how we saw the world and all we got were baton charges and condescension.

Yes, this is a rant, and it is borne out to some degree less by being annoyed at Friedman than it is about a genuine sense of impotence. I volunteer for the gay community here in London. I vote for candidates who seem like they want change. I contribute to causes. But can this actually mean anything when Bush and his ilk still hold ultimate power? Protests amount to nothing. Striking amounts to nothing (not that most people of my generation even have the chance to unionise). So what is left?

Cheers Tom - now how long until you retire? Because your daughter sounds like she has the pulse far better than you!

Stepping Away from the Property Ladder

I guess I should clarify my post below. Yes I do feel like banks are completely against me and my kind. By my kind, I mean those of us in our twenties who would actually like to squeeze some kind of enjoyment and freedom out of our first decade without being institutionalised (ie no formal education structure, whether that is school, college or apprenticeship).

But banks don’t want us to do that. They want to entrap us with debt as soon as possible. They want us credit-carded and mortgaged up to the hilt by the time we are 25, and if you are not, then you might as well not exist. They want a life-long customer who will continue to accept paying huge interest, while getting a piddling amount in return through their savings.

Housing has now become the great leveller. The average house price in London is now more than 10 times the average salary of a Londoner. First time buyers are being squeezed further and further from the city, forcing them (and their generous families) to take on insane amounts of debt early in life and trust that the market maintains its growth (good luck on that!). In addition, young buyers are also being squeezed out by greedy developers and those who just can’t exist without a second or third home.

I have to admit its only since I came to London that I have become interested (some may say obsessed) with property, especially on television. If you had told me a couple of years ago that I would find televisual pleasure in watching estate agents show people with more money than sense around ruined barns in the Costwolds I would have laughed in your face. But I am a bit of a Phil ‘n’ Kirsty disciple (they deserve their own ITV series where they go around solving crimes – Kirsty would be a fab bad cop), and think Sarah Beeney is the dogs bollocks.

But I have also come to realise that I have made a trade off in my life. All my peers seem to be contemplating this trade in various manners. I have sacrificed hopping on to the property ladder at a sensible age in an attempt to have a life while I am still able. This means renting less than ideal rooms, in less than ideal flats and houses (though to be fair, I have been lucky and have little to complain about in this regard). It means living as a financial institutions pariah. But it also means having the freedom to leave a job that doesn’t fulfil. It means having the freedom to uproot yourself from city or country. It gives you the space to discover the contours of the life you want to lead when you are most equipped to do so (ie, not at 16 in school).

I don’t think this choice is necessarily more valid than friends or family who have chosen the opposite tack. There are times when I do think I am mad and that I should settle down, or that my life would be easier if I hadn’t made the choices I have done in the last 3 years. I also know that some older members of my family see what I am doing as childish and immature.

I disagree, in part because I am the first person in my family to have chosen this – to break with the path that I felt I should go down (school, college, job-for-life, house, marriage, kids – hopefully in that order!). Maybe it has something to do with being gay – the social pressures I felt were so different, the drive to leave Cork stronger and the lack of worry about kids.

But either way – fuck the banks. At least until I need my next loan J

Blogger Navel Gazing Alert

I haven’t blogged for over a week now, which is a strange feeling. It wasn’t because I became tired of blogging – real life interrupted and I have not had very regular access to the net over the last couple of days.

I have to admit, it has been an odd experience – I have actually missed the regular outlet that blogging allowed. I always thought that there would come a period where I may give blogging a break to see if it is something that I really wanted to go back to.

And I definitely do…

Banks are Evil and like kicking puppies

I have come to believe that Banks hate me and my kind. We are like the No Smoking sign on their cigarette break, or finding 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife (or something).

And its not just banks, but all financial institutions. Unless you are looking for just a nice, large black hole to fling your meagre savings into (just don't expect much return), then they really don't want to know you.

I am an un-person to them.

More later when I am feeling more eloquent and less bitter...

Pleasantville

I had the good fortune of catching an overlooked gem the other day. Pleasantville is one of those films that I admired when I first saw it, but one which seemed to leave only a passing impression. I remembered some of its gorgeous imagery, some good acting and an entertaining, if finally overwrought story.

I managed to catch it again this weekend, and the film had an unexpected effect in me. I became utterly absorbed in it. What incredible imagery! What beautiful, subtle, heartbreaking performances. And yes, the ending is overwrought, but what I considered OTT years ago when I first saw it, no longer feels that way.

I think this is a measure of how the world has changed in the last couple of years. The 90s look oddly freewheeling right now – they gave the sense that the world was progressing, that as difficult as things were, they could and would be changing for the better. The noughties have been different in a lot of ways – not least the sense of backlash from the previous decade.

Pleasantville is an unabashed celebration of sex, intellect, of chaos and joy and pain. While its knowing skewering of 50s Americana has been done before, rarely has a film been so forthright about the joys and risks of challenging conservatism. It will break up families. It will cause divisions and hatreds within a community to be exacerbated. For every burst of vivid colour, there is likely to be an ugly backlash. The question you have to ask yourself is if the colour is worth it.

Pleasantville finds a perfect metaphor for this unfolding – as each of the characters in the black and white sitcom explore a new part of their mind or body (for better and worse), then they change into glorious technicolour. Pleasantville is one of the most visually arresting films I have ever seen – the digital work is really something to behold. There are moments, such as a rain of delicate pink blossoms over a block and white car, or the image of Joan Allen’s silver grey make-up blotting out her peachy skin which are breath-taking. Gary Ross, who wrote and directed the film, uses colour to create a sense of awe, and even reverence which is often missing in modern film (check out the sequence where Jeff Bridges looks at an art book, or the first time we see the naked painting of Joan Allen).

Up until the final half hour, the film is also an interesting look at the increasing cross-fertilisation of race culture which leads to the empowerment of the teens and women. Pleasantville gets its groove when black culture starts to seep into the lives of the characters – Huck Finn and jazz are two of the early indicators that a social shift has started.

The film is more tough minded then I remembered. As I said above, the film pointedly states that change is a painful experience – that those who have tasted something different will have to be willing to continually fight for it. While the film has a conventionally happy ending, the people of Pleasantville are not left with their lives neatly wrapped up. In essence, the 60s is battering down the highway, ready to cause more trouble. And the characters await it with baited breath.

Pleasantville has one of those genius ensemble casts packed with well known faces, most of whom had yet to reach the higher levels of Hollywood. Toby Maguire and Reese Whitherspoon are superb leads (when, WHEN will Whitherspoon return to her kick-ass comedy roots?), but it’s Joan Allen and Jeff Bridges who give this film its soul. As two older people, slowly thawing out from their enforced social roles, they deftly show a subtle, erotic charge that feels both mature and fresh.

Some of the flaws are still there – most notably the hackneyed way in which is falls back on a contrived courtroom climax. And while I appreciate the race point that Ross wanted to make, it loses its elegance and becomes belaboured by the movies end.

Split Reactions

One of my best friends (and future birther of my babies - though she doesn't know it yet) signed off an email with the following phrase;

"I am just in from pub and will write proper e mail when not so full of the white stuff (wine i mean)".

Two Reactions....

Ewwww

and

ROTFL!

Steven Spielberg rocks my world

Spielberg is The Shit. There is no two ways about that. There isn't a mainstream director alive who still commands the technique, the passion and the sure commercial sense as The Great Bearded One. And that is not to damn him with faint praise. Any director who has survived for 30 years, who has allowed himself to grow as a technician while exploring different themes and working at the forefront of the industry is a living legend. There is nobody like Spielberg.

There was some grumbling over his decision to return to the Indiana Jones well. I have to admit, that I had a bit of a geek-out moment when I heard and nothing about the production would cause me to think otherwise.

I mean the cast alone is exquisite - Ford, le Beouf, Karen Allen, John Hurt, Ray Winstone, Jim Broadbent and Cate 'The Fucking Queen' Blanchett!!! If the picture above doesn't even fill you with the tiniest bit of joy, then I fear you have died a little inside :-).

And this interview, from a set visit by some of the Net Head Geeks just makes me even happier. If you don't want to click through, then one quote deserves special notice;

Other topics brought up included his working relationship with George Lucas and if Spielberg was pressured to shoot INDY 4 digitally. Spielberg said that the way he works with George is he lets George talk for an hour and then says, “No.”

Spielberg is obviously a very smart man who recognises that Lucas isn't fit to shine his shoes.

And by the way, he is planning on doing a Tin Tin trilogy, with him doing the first part, Peter Jackson the second and a possible collaboration on the third if they don't find the right director. Now I think Robert Zemeckis would be perfect (especially as they are doing mo-cap), but I am privately hopeful that Spielberg and Jackson decide to do it together.

HAPPY NATIONAL COMING OUT DAY

Those loveable Americans have a day for everything... And today is National Coming Out Day!!

The only reason I am posting this is because I think the logo is kind of cool - I wish my coming out had consisted of me gaily kick stepping out of an actual closet!

Why Peter Tatchell is my hero

I blogged a little about Peter Tatchell in September, about how my feelings about him have evolved from being hostile, to being proud and inspired by his human rights advocacy.

He wrote a piece yesterday on The Guardian website about the proposed extension of the incitement laws to include homosexuals. I initially blogged that I thought it was a good idea, but I have to admit, some of this was in reaction to the fundies going ape shit over it. I also believe, in a sense, that if incitement laws already cover race and religion, then sexual orientation is a logical extension, as is transgederism and disability.

However, Tatchell's piece is far more wide ranging and responsible than my first thoughts. His article brilliantly dissects the difficulties inherent in incitement laws, and differentiates them from incitement to hatred. Its an interesting piece, and unlike most debates on the Guardian website, the comments from readers are intelligent and on point.

I agree with most people's main point, that it would be better if there weren't these incitement laws to begin with. I don't want vicars or imams being prosecuted because they believe homosexuality is sinful. But its a delicate line between preaching sinfulness and preaching hatred and as The Gay Horse incident shows, we can't always rely on the police to act sensibly when they fear political correctness.

The Stupid One

WB executive Jeff Robinov can probably start counting the days until he is fired from the studio. It was reported that Robinov told 3 producers that Warners would not make any pictures headlining actresses over actors after three expensive duds this year - Hillary Swank in The Reaping, Nicole Kidman in The Invasion and Jodie Foster in The Brave One.

Now, yes it is true, that women have a harder time toplining action films. This is due, not only to sexism within the largely male viewing audience, but also a profound lack of imagination amongst writers, directors and developers. There are plenty of women who could make convincing action heroes (Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Garner, Gina Torres, Milla Jovovich) but are stuck with sub-standard material. Why is it that James Cameron, or Joss Whedon can create women heroes who are something more than chicks with dicks but nobody else can?

Hillary Swank has never been a box office actress. And The Reaping was fucking terrible.

Kidman is an unusual case. I think she has had one of the most interesting careers out there, that is not always fairly reflected in the actual finished films. What is clear is that she works with interesting directors, in sometimes risky films. But give her the right role, and she will have both critics and audiences lapping it up. Yes The Invasion tanked, but it was a disastrous shoot (the original director was replaced and it was massively re-shot) and barely advertised and released. Also, nobody seems to be blaming Daniel Craig for this. Kidman is like George Clooney - they alternate commercial and arty projects, but Kidman has had a much more financially successful career than Clooney (who owes a lot to the multi-starred Oceans franchise), but is branded a loser much quicker.

But pissing off Jodie Foster is not a good idea. The Brave One may not have performed up to her usual standards, but it is Foster's only miss in a decade. She doesn't work that often any more, but she is a hit-making machine when she does so. The Brave One isn't a disaster - it will still turn a profit and for WB to risk alienating an actress who just in the last couple of years almost single handedly made hits out of Panic Room, Flight Plan and Inside Man is insane.

The issues here are deeper and more structural than simply "female stars can't open a film". But that would require actual thought on the part of studio execs, and would be admitting a failure on their part. Its so much easier to greenlight Thundercats the movie.

Christ...Thundercats the Movie. I don't have the strength... The Curse of Nerd Nostalgia strikes again.

Homos Versus Fundies Part 78

wThis is the type of situation where one could be very sober, taking on the ridiculous suggestions of The Christian Institute and calmly knocking them back. But there are some days when I just don’t feel very calm and sober.

So fuck them.

Fuck them in their fucking ear.

That felt much better.

The debate over the extension of incitement laws is going to take very much the same tenor as the hate crimes legislation in the States, ie, the fundies who ride the special bus to school, will spread their usual lies about the Bill criminalising ‘thought crimes’ and other rubbish.

The truth is, this Bill merely extends the current laws that already include religious groups to homosexuals. And this has the fundies up in arms, because it would finally challenge their right to shout and scream about how we are all dirty paedophiles who should be done away with.

The Christian Institute, who led the unsuccessful fight against the introduction of the services Bill last year, claim that their members could receive up to seven years in jail for expressing their religious views. Now, the evil homo part of me says "And the problem is...?" but this is the type of endlessly repeated lie that needs to be killed straight away. Just as we don’t tolerate religious views which say that those in the West should be killed, we shouldn’t accept religious views saying that gays should be harmed.

As Ben Sumerskill of Stonewall said;

“These protections aren't about preventing people expressing their religious views in a temperate way. "However, we refuse to accept any longer that there's no connection between extreme rap lyrics calling for gay people to be attacked or fundamentalist claims that all gay people are paedophiles, and the epidemic of anti-gay violence disfiguring Britain's streets.”

The measure should easily pass the Commons (especially with David Cameron’s shiny happy people image), but could face some competition in the Lords, where religious groups have an unfair historical advantage. But like most gay friendly legislation in the UK in the past 10 years, it is likely only a matter of time.

Jack Straw said that he is also considering adding protections for transgendered people and disabled people to the Bill. That’s great news also.

Now, let the games begin!

Nothing to Atone for

I finally got around to seeing Atonement for a second time last night and I feel ready to talk about it.

The first time was slightly marred by the fact that I, sometimes consciously, sometimes unconsciously, kept comparing the film to Ian McEwan's masterful novel. I read Atonement about 4 years ago and it has remained one of my favourite novels of all time. It is intensely literary, but has a sweep and a romanticism that is missing from his earlier works. It packs an enormous emotional wallop, expertly skips from across a diverse range of characters and situations and is one of the very few books to leave me in tears at the end.

The second time watching Atonement allowed me to relax into the film - to appreciate it as its own entity. And I found that it affected me more deeply once I let myself go. I have little doubt that Atonement is the most devastating love story I have seen since Brokeback Mountain, and is the confirmation of huge careers for its young cast and director.

There will be some spoilers in this review - so the long and short of it is, if you haven't seen this film yet, if you have some weird Keira Knightley phobia (apparently a wide ranging one amongst women 16 - 30), or if you decided that Run Fat Boy Run was a better alternative, then I want you to know that I forgive you your faults and will wait patiently while you dash out now and watch.

Go on...

OK, welcome back! Now aren't you happy you took my advice?

Firstly, I should get the one main criticism that I have about Atonement off my chest. The film suffers slightly from the same structural problem as the book - a remarkable first act set one a very hot day in an English country house in 1935, followed by a slower moving but still hugely entertaining Dunkirk sequence, and then picks up steam once more when it returns to a hospital in London.

The first 50 minutes is what will probably gain Atonement most of its hype. By sticking surprisingly closely to the novel's perspective-skipping structure, screenwriter Christopher Hampton and director Joe Wright gradually layer on plot and character details, building an unbearable tension until its shocking final moments. It is more visceral than the novel, and is blessed in this regard by a wonderful central performance by young Saorise Ronan, who perfectly captures Briony's youthful, haughty arrogance. Knightley and McAvoy also walk a tricky line with their characters - having to convey both a sense of shared history and bubbling undercurrent of passion which the whole film relies upon. If this fails, then there is no resonance to the story, and as good as their work is in the film, this shows that both are the real deal.

This is director Joe Wright's second film. The first was his lithe, definitive version of Pride and Prejudice which gave the world the first indication that Knightley had something that was worth watching. That film freed Austen's prose from the mummification of the BBC adaptation and felt fresher and more urgent then any Austen film since Clueless (yes, you heard that right - blow me!). Likewise, Atonement makes no bones about the fact that it is a literary movie, but it is an intensely cinematic one. Aside from the remarkable tracking shot showing the full scale chaos on the beaches which has gained such early praise, the whole Dunkirk sequence plays beautifully with notions of time and memory. All the clues to the eventual outcome of the film are in that sequence and, due to the precise expertise of Wright and his crew and, once again, the heartfelt, restrained but devastating turns from Knightley and McAvoy, it improves on the book.

McAvoy and Knightley have already received critical hosannas for their work here and it is fully deserved. Surprisingly, they don't have a huge amount of dialogue to work with. Wright trusts them to be able to say everything that needs to be said through expression and body language - there is a scene in a tea room where Robbie is about to head off to France which will probably ensure both are nominated for Oscars. Additionally, Vanessa Redgrave shows up for what amounts to an 8 minute, nakedly emotional monologue at the end as an ageing Briony that could also see her nominated. But before I end the review, I want to extend praise to Ramola Garai who plays the 18 year old Briony and who seems to have been lost in the shuffle somewhat.

Garai has the most difficult role in the leads, but she has two key scenes that show she is the match for the company around her. The first is a quiet scene with a dying French soldier which is heartbreaking. The last is the moment where she apologises to Robbie. Its a difficult line to pull off, but Garai manages to give you the sense both that she has constantly rehearsed it, and that she is saying it for the first time. Its one of the finest moments in a film which is brimming with them.

Overall, though it is early in the game, I would expect Atonement to become the highclass Brit at this year's Oscars - certainly there is a case to be made for Picture, Director, Screenwriter, Actor, Actress, possibly 3 Supporting Actresses (Ronan, Garai and Redgrave who all play the same character), Cinematography, Sound, Score (the best I have heard this year), and hell lets throw in Best Animated film and Foreign film just for the hell of it.

The cracks show

No, this is not a post on Britney's latest photo faux pas...

An update on the ENDA fight

I know it must seem weird that I have become so obsessed with what is happening with gay politics in the States. I think a part of me misses the real activism which took place in England in the mid 80's to 90's, when issues around AIDs, parenting, discrimination and especially the loathsome Section 28 energised the gay community to such an enormous degree.

When I moved to London I was lucky enough to live and become close friends with an older gay couple (I won't give Jamie and Mikey's ages, as they may in fact kill me) but they were very active in the 80s and 90s and set up the first Body Positive centre in Wales. Their stories and struggles were hugely inspiring to me, and played a role in me becoming more politicised in the last 3 years.

But the very public fights have ended on this side of the Atlantic. As I said below, I don't mean for a second to say that everything is hunky dory. I volunteer for the Lesbian and Gay switchboard and on only a few months I have heard my fair share of bigotry and horror stories. But the fight has shifted here and I think is motoring on a long-term groove where successive generations will make gay people ultimately more accepted. Finding a place to make a difference for the community in this climate is difficult. I miss the big victories and the stupid part of me is frustrated by that. Talk about masochism!

America is an odd case - it is still surprising to gay people in London that you can be fired arbitrarily in most states for being gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered. While English laws aren't perfect, they are easier to change and introduce. And, though recent actions might indicate otherwise, there has never been a truly vile and powerful element to the Church of England which would block gay-friendly legislation the way the fundamentalists have in America. All it took was the neutering of the Conservatives in 1997 and we were off.

A part of me itches to get into the fight, even though I live 3000 miles away. I find the split which has emerged, and the questions of political expediency over purity of mission to be absolutely fascinating - and I recognise that I am lucky thatI don't have to make this kind of horrible decision.

Anyway, here is a brief wrap up of things since I left off;

• Donna Rose, the transgendered member of the HRC board has resigned her post, after the HRC's tepid and slow-moving response to the ENDA arguments. Her statement is heart-felt, beautifully written and well worth a read.
• Congressional leaders have been given an extra two weeks to try and get an agreement between enough politicians to have transgendered people included in the Bill. I am keeping my all appendages crossed for their success.
  
• There has also been some discussion between politicians and a gay legal organisation LAMBDA about how much protections even the stripped down bill would give the LGB community.
• And as predicted, this argument has opened a split with the LGBT community about the place of transgendered people. The arguments are all over the place, getting quite theoretical and esoteric. Many LGB people, and actually lets face it, it seems to be mostly gay men, have an issue with being labelled in some way transgendered.

So it seems the bill is in a holding pattern. I wrote something in the comments section of Melissa McEwan's Shakespeare's Sister blog which I think I should repeat here;

I think Pam Spaulding had the best take on this. How we deal with this public argument will ultimately show the character of our movement. If people are resentful of transgendered people for holding up ENDA, fine, then lets have that conversation. Don't let John's patronising and condescending remarks, or the PC hysteria of some of the other side be the end of it. Educate and fight and we will end up being a healthier community.

Sweeney Todd - Live and in Colour!

As a follow-up to my earlier post about fears for the new Sweeney Todd film, I thought I would post a link to the new trailer for the film.

I have watched it a couple of times and I think it is visually striking, Johnny Depp seems to be going for a full on weirdo sadist performance which is good and some of my concerns about the appropriateness of Carter as Mrs Lovett have been assuaged.

But seriously, the trailer minions seem to be going out of their way to disguise the fact that Todd is a musical. And not just any musical, but a friggin' opera (well, practically). As mentioned on this site, I also thought the first trailer would begin with that awesome, mood setting "Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd/His skin was pale and his eye was odd/He shaved the faces of gentlemen/Who never wereafter heard of again". And the one blast of singing we do get is weirdly placed and oddly inert.

That marvellous, demented genius Sondheim also gave an interview recently where he said that Burton's Sweeney Todd is not a slavish adaptation of the ground-breaking stage show. For a start, its about an hour shorter, which I was excited to hear. I think this means that Burton is making Todd into a musical thriller which is the right approach, both for him as a director and for the property. Sweeney Todd needs to have thrust and momentum to take a large cinema audience along for what is a pretty extreme ride - especially for a musical.

It will be sad to see a lot of Sondheim's wonderful score cut, but at the same time, movies are a completely different genre to theatre and there has been a huge disservice in the past to musicals by their overly-respectful adaptations.

Buffy Retro # 4

The Wish

Kink has always been a quiet but persistent element in Buffy. Even the first season regularly equated pleasure and pain, both physical and emotional. Buffy’s emotionally sado-masochistic relationship with the undead Angel turned physically sado-masochistic as the two former lovers beat each other senseless for the latter half of season two. What’s My Line had the vampire Drusilla torturing a bound, shirtless and sweaty Angel.

The whole thing exploded (literally) in the Season Six episode Smashed when Buffy and Spike’s long simmering relationship became a brutally violent fuck fest in a ruined building. Buffy’s post coital line “When did the building fall down?” may be one of the greatest in TV history.

But before Smashed, the perviest Buffy episode by far was The Wish. Written by Marti Noxon (who also wrote Whats My Line and was known as Marti ‘Whips and Chains’ Noxon by other writers), its one of those It’s a Wonderful Life style episodes which posits what would happen if Buffy never arrived in Sunnydale. In most sci-fi shows what follows is generally a fan and continuity wank fest and to be fair The Wish is no different. Its an exciting, well told story, but you wont get half the benefit if you don’t have a full and complete knowledge of the previous 43 episodes.

What sets The Wish apart is not so much the writing and acting, which are excellent. It’s the air of twisted nihilism which the episode indulges in, perhaps best typified by the ‘death’ of Cordelia which is filmed as an erotic ménage-a-trois with vampires Willow and Xander. Other examples of torture, sex and death (and lots and lots of black leather) abound – and remember, these are characters who are 16/17 years old. And it’s fucking brilliant. Like all the best Buffy episodes, it pushes the boundaries of what is acceptable on a show which is aimed at teenagers.

The ending, which features the deaths of Buffy, Willow, Xander and Angel gives us the vicarious thrill of seeing the characters and relationships utterly ruined, while still giving us a happy ending. The sado-masochism on the screen is replicated in the programme makers and watchers relationship. The sadism inherent in the agonised, slow motion deaths of our favourite characters in the episode’s final minutes is meant to hurt and dismay masochistic fans, before giving us the ‘release’ of seeing the world put right in the last moments.

The Wish leaves the viewer battered and bruised… but desperate for more