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For every creator with the tendency to insert significant amount of his own self in his works (usually through characteristics and speech patterns of his heroes), Whedon always had a knack for writing everyone distinctly enough so that you never get the impression he’s writing different versions of the same person within a specific story. As for his self, this expression comes through a specific type of character we always meet in his ensembles.
It’s the ‘Xander character’: Because BUFFY came first and because its setting is in high-school, the analogies with the lonely geek archetype are clear and direct, not necessarily indicating what was in store for his evolution within Whedon’s oeuvre. Xander is the clown, the comic-book-referencing geek, the insecure loner who maybe sometime sort of tried to befriend a more popular schoolmate, but the connection never stuck. And, step by step, grows into the only wholly human and accessible hero of the show, by virtue of remaining the simple, honest ‘Zeppo’ he always was- while everyone around him get to turn into a witch or a vampire or a world consuming, powerful entity.
Xander is obviously Whedon, but this isn’t the exciting part. It’s how the ‘Xander character’ evolves during the next Whedon works, a real testament to how the creator sees himself, his art and the world around him.
By following this ‘Xander’ evolution we bear witness to an affinity for the darkness and to an existential quest that expresses itself through violence, death and destruction. No, really:
Xander (Buffy, the Vampire Slayer)
Everything begun with BUFFY so it’s only fair to view Whedon’s every next step through the prism of that series. Every creator looks back to his first significant, more instinctive work, but it’s more interesting to investigate how (and if) they evolve over it.
We’ve already established which sort of archetype Xander represents. And as the one Whedon sees closer to himself than the others (he never misses a chance to jokingly remind everyone how hellish school was, how he was never popular or kissed by the pretty girl, etc.), it’s understandable why he imprints himself on it. I’m not suggesting here that Whedon was on a selfish furore when he had Xander save the world in two separate occasions (once at the end of Season 1 and once more at the end of Season 6, while one should not forget ‘The Zeppo’ episode, where through humorous resignation he admits to never being uber-popular but he’s there to do what he does, and if that amounts to something, the better), but it shows that then, back in the beginning, he was still somewhat pure.
During Season 1, Xander is just the guy who has a crush on Buffy (but can never have her because naturally she likes the more built, cool, dark and mysterious man) and if in the end he doesn’t actually get the girl, he at least gets to save her life.
“I am Joss and I’m cool with myself.”
Wash (Firefly, 'Serenity')
FIREFLY was rich with beautiful characters whose deaths could have yielded the whole ‘paying the price’ aspect of the story. Whedon chose to kill, just seconds after a glorious triumph of a landing, Wash. The same Wash who used to play around with his dinosaur toys (a geek, as close as one could get to one in this pop-culture vacuum of a world), who did all the jokes, who wore Xander’s hawaiian shirt, who married not the sexy/popular/kitty type of girl, but the most tough and dynamic woman of this ensemble.
It’s certainly not a coincidence that Whedon planned on killing Xander off in BUFFY’s final episode, but changed his mind at the last minute. (He still got to lose him an eye.) On FIREFLY he took it one step further. Whedon’s idea of a climax involves himself tragically dying.
Marty ('The Cabin in the Woods')
I’m putting it here because, even though THE CABIN IN THE WOODS released in 2012, it was written before the WGA strike and what I’m interested in is following Whedon’s maturing in a chronological order. So, Marty is clearly the Xander of this particular crew of totally (and deliberately) stock characters, and what happens to him?
Marty destroys the world, not conforming to being a sacrifice for the tastes of some opaque, institutional God-like entities. Because the film is heavy on comedy and symbolism, the drama doesn’t yet carry extra weight. It’s played more satirically (even though the climactic scene with Marty and Dana is really poignant), but as far as statements go, this one’s loud and clear: Marty, Xander, Whedon, is ready to blow up the whole system if needed (and if possible). Even if, once again, nobody’s there to notice.
Dr. Horrible ('Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog')
This is where it gets serious. Because for the first time Xander is actually the lead character of the story. (It can’t be a coincidence that this happens with the story Whedon came up with when he had nobody over him, there was no pitch process, no notes, nothing at all, he just wrote what was in his head.) Because he’s the lead, when watching for the first time, the possibility for this nefarious and awful plan to succeed doesn’t even cross our minds: He’s just too likable and relatable for us not to root for him.
Only it turns out Dr. Horrible is actually the villain of the story. Whedon tells us for 40 minutes, but we only realize it in the end.
Now Whedon’s gone from the point where he sees himself as a central point of dramaturgy to the point where he’s the actual villain, he’s the very enemy of his self. He’s confused, he doesn’t know what his position against his fans is, against the industry, against the establishment, against everything. He shows fans as no-brain cheerleaders that finally root for him when he turns villainous - what does that say about you and me? He frames himself as a pure heart that begins from a pure, anti-establishment, anti-status-quo position, losing and confusing meaning in the process (“anarchy, that I run!”) and reaching a point where his place as an independent creator, if not under check, can only be a head-on collision with the suits and the industry (Captain Hammer).
In the climax of DR. HORRIBLE’S SING-ALONG BLOG, it’s not ‘Xander’ that gets to die. It’s Penny, meaning all that is pure. He is now even worse than dead: A villain. And the single worst enemy of his very own dreams.
Topher (Dollhouse)
Whedon’s relationship with himself finally reaches an extreme. If Xander is the archetype, therefore excluded from the following equation, then Topher is the result when every other ‘Xander’ from Whedon’s work is added. As an emotional climax of the show, he gets to die, like Wash. He does so by purging the morally degenerate world he leaves behind, like Marty. And, mostly, does so having been the indisputable villain of the piece, like Dr. Horrible. And just like Dr. Horrible, not only was he the villain, but he didn’t even have a clue.
And yet, in DOLLHOUSE we get the most purely dramatic of all the stages. (After all that’s only natural, since it’s the final stage of his work so far - THE AVENGERS is way too mainstream and work-for-hire to be *that* personal, even though the ‘Xander’ gets to die there as well.) It’s here, in this stage of the ‘Xander’ evolution where Whedon finally offers the decoder key for us to read his whole work with.
Topher, the de facto funnyman/nerd/Xander of this shadowy operation, has one clear, basic mission as an employee there: To take models of persons and fill them with life.
He literally writes characters.
Topher creates stories while working for the bad guys, loses control of his characters, sees himself corrupted inside the establishment, becomes an accomplice in the Fall (or even the main culprit, since Whedon likes to deal in absolutes when it comes to matters of ethical responsibility) and in the end blows himself up along with the whole system so that he can set himself (and everyone) free.
We’ve come a long way since ‘The Zeppo’, that’s for sure.
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