Covering
“Hush,” in which everyone has mouths, but they cannot scream.
What
to say about “Hush?” It’s, quite frankly, the best. “Hush” is so good, its
strength alone elevates the entire season in my esteem. Some of its comedy is
as funny as the show will ever be, and its horror is definitely the scariest
the show will ever achieve. Once it gets rolling, it is utterly arresting and compelling,
even or perhaps especially through scenes I might normally tune out a bit.
There’s a great deal of cleverness in its simple, disconcerting concept, and
it’s a very rare example of an episode that is (despite any theoretical and
incorrect dissenters, whose existence I find very much in doubt) regarded as
the best, is my favorite, and is a great choice for an introductory episode.
There’s even historical significance! A lot of it, if you count the fact that
I’m pretty sure it’s the first episode I saw fully. When I’ve chosen to rewatch
an episode or two in the past, “Hush” was usually one of them.
A little real talk for a minute:
despite appearances, Buffy very
rarely sustains real horror. Horror is a part of the show, no doubt, but as
I’ve said before, the show gets most of its heart from creature features, and
genuine horror is pretty rare—“The Dark Age” and “Helpless” being two prime
exceptions. Resultantly, the BtVS bestiary
is, well, it’s more than a bit lame to be honest. Demons tend to be stuntmen in
honestly usually pretty good rubber masks with demonic sounding names you
quickly forget, who are unlikely to ever recur. The Gentlemen stand apart in
this shallow pool by being well and truly awesome in every way. The alien way
they float, the creepy elegance of their design (Slender Man a decade before he
was a glint in a Creepy Pasta), the genteel, silent conversations they share,
and, of course, the way the isolate their victims by isolating everyone in
town.
In this way, the Gentlemen remind me
most of the best modern-era-created Doctor
Who adversaries, the Weeping Angels, the Silents, and the likely
non-existent Hiders (creatures which appear, or don’t, in “Blink,” “Day of the
Moon,” and “Listen,” also all top-tier episodes. Coincidence?). They, like
their peers from the BBC, begin their attack exploiting or denying our senses
and perceptions, rather than leading off with big claws and teeth. All the
Gentlemen need is a scalpel, they’ve already stopped us from calling for help,
and hearing the call both. All we know about Tara is that she’s in the Wiccan
club and might have a stutter, but her desperate escape from the Gentlemen is
nothing less than terrifying.
They even get a great musical cue.
Oh yeah, Tara shows up. I’m calling
that historically significant, as if memory serves, the Willow and Tara
relationship is considered an important one in mainstreaming portrayals of
homosexual couples. I’m pretty sure when I first watched “Hush,” word had
spread far and wide that Willow was gay, so what was going on there was pretty
clear, but in a vacuum, I suspect those cards are held pretty close to the
chest, possibly as demanded by the powers that be. Tara is quite obviously into
Willow, but Willow seems to need more time to have some realizations about
herself, even if their joined spell power has already spoken a truth she isn’t
ready to express, and may not even realize at the moment that it is the truth.
This is the undercurrent of “Hush,”
roiling about beneath the chaos and fear that ensues from Sunnydale’s silence,
the things our characters can’t say just yet, don’t want to say, or just plain
don’t know how to say. Early in the episode, Xander is arguing with Anya (who,
it seems especially significant in an episode where everyone loses their
voices, overshares), because she feels he doesn’t actually value her beyond
their physical relationship, despite his protestations, because, as her lack of
differentiation between public and private conversations indicates, words are fairly
meaningless to her. Voicelessness creates a comic misunderstanding involving a
blood mug, dropped books, and Anya napping in such a way that isn’t very good
for her neck that gives him the chance to show the depth of his feeling in a
way her nascent understanding of relationships grasps. Also, pretty funny.
But there’s also Buffy and Riley,
now both quite obviously into each other, but reluctant to act because of the
secrets they’re unwilling to speak (despite, in Riley’s case, Forrest pushing
him to bank on his undeniably cool job), a situation hearkening back to their
park bench encounter in “The Initiative.” But their silence cuts through any
dissembling they might normally attempt. They kiss first, but that only seems
significant in that it makes things more complicated when they encounter each
other fighting demons without any way to make excuses. And since they can’t
make excuses or talk about anything at all, all they can really do is their
duties without distraction. Turns out, they’re a pretty effective team.
The fallout of that revelation,
however, has to wait. The more immediate consequences fall to Giles, whose
special lady friend…uh…Olivia? Olivia. There isn’t a whole lot to say about
Olivia, she’s had literally one other appearance, and their history only gets
sketched out in a line or two, so as many times as I’ve seen this episode, I
always forget that Giles’ booty call in there for it (take all the umbrage at
Anya calling her an “orgasm friend,” dude, a Transatlantic booty call is still
a booty call). I think everyone realized, after they started giving Giles a new
relationship not only did he not really need one, but not matter what they did,
they weren’t going to improve upon his last one.
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