Hidden Depths

There's just something about them. Something indefinable, something indescribable. What the French call I don't know the hell what. When they are on screen for even a few brief shining moments, it makes the movie, episode or even the season worthwhile. At first they may be mere extras, loitering about the place and quite often looking pretty, but give them a little screen time and a line or two, and suddenly they have their own fan clubs, web shrines, and even TV series. They inspire fierce debate about their names, their hobbies, their favorite flavor of ice-cream. They cause a frenzy of fan fiction writing, as adorers attempt to create for them backstories, lives, loves, and heartaches. And while their creators treat them shabbily, cut off their body parts and make them not be in the series for weeks, months, even years at a time -- or, y'know, kill them -- we cling to the hope that they, too, could one day end up like others of their kind... in the credits.

Well, it's nice to dream.

Do you remember, at all, when first you realized that your favorite genre fare was not just about its stars? The first time that you looked at some incidental guy, girl, alien or robot and said to yourself, "hmmm... that character interests me strangely"? Perhaps it was Star Trek's under-used Uhura, or Star Wars' inscrutable Boba Fett. Perhaps it was even earlier than that; maybe you were one of the many who longed to learn more about the hat-dwelling HooDoo from H.R. Pufnstuf. Or maybe you were curious about the Oompa Loompas' mating rituals. For all I know you were fascinated by Mary Poppins' talking umbrella-head (as, now I think about it, am I. What did it think about being an umbrella-head? How did it get that way? Are there a whole race of umbrella-head people... the questions are endless.)

Be that as it may (was it a curse? An enchantment? What?), for all of us there are those genre characters who, while they may not begin as an essential part of the storyline, soon become bigger, and better, than even their creators could have predicted. They are sometimes the unlikeliest of stars, the unlikeliest of heroes, and yet their presence is often enough to enliven even the dullest episode. Sometimes it's a case of familiarity breeding fondness, or absence making the heart grow full of contempt for Executive Producers... or... er... something. Whatever it is, we become intrigued by these characters, be they a "Guest Star", "Special Guest Star" or "Dude #2," and we need to know all there is to know about them.

And sometimes, just sometimes, we get to.

And, better still, we sometimes get to in Buffy (I love it when I get to talk about Buffy. Can't wait till I write that article, "Buffy and the Buffy-ness of Buffy in Buffy.") Take the obvious case of Angel (David Boreanaz.) Though his character was originally -- allegedly -- only supposed to be around for three episodes of Buffy's Season 1, the beauty of the man and the mystery of his Cryptic Guy act soon got him not only a spot in the credits, but a legion of worshippers and now an eponymous show of his own. Vampire prince Spike (James Marsters) was introduced as The Big Bad in Buffy's Season 2, and after a fan-spurred long run of evil hijinx, he departed Sunnydale, vowing never to return. But in what many consider to be the best episode of Season 3, return he did, declaring himself "love's bitch" -- and man enough to admit it -- which led to a further appearance in Season 4, and, then, hey! It's Spike as a regular! And not always wearing the same clothes! Cool!

So, let's talk Doyle (Glenn Quinn.) Still. Okay, so he was in the credits of Angel from the start, and perhaps doesn't really count as a minor character but a) he was starring against the compelling David Boreanaz, and b) his death still pisses most of us off, so I have decided to allow myself a little latitude in order that I can vent some more. As amazingly, indescribably wonderful as Angel became (after a mid-season slump) when Wesley got a spine, Faith came to town, and we met Gunn and the conflicted Lindsey, it was still so very not cool that it came at the expense of the delicious Doyle's life -- and what is with Joss and the girly names? Angel, Lindsey -- and despite young Mr Crusher, the name Wesley always makes me think of the annoying brat from Mr. Belvedere. Even Doyle's name was Francis, of all things -- just one vowel away from Boy Named Sue territory. And yet with a good, solid surname like Doyle to use in its place (and in a manner not at all Hanson), he garnered himself a loyal, vocal following who are still, to this day, devastated by what many regard as his ill-treatment by those sparkly Powers That Be. Of course, the wound is no longer quite so raw now. Somehow, the pain has lessened. Time, the great Band Aid, has soothed our emotional scratches -- in conjunction with a fifth of Scotch or several. And in its place has been left... Wesley.

With Wesley's appearance on Angel, Joss Whedon and his co-conspirators have achieved a miracle; they have taken an almost universally abhorred, discounted or ignored character, and made him actually interesting. No longer even just tolerated, he is actually liked. It was not fan demand that brought back Wesley, it was those cruel Masters of the Buffy-verse -- and now it seems they did it for our own good. No doubt it hurt them far more than it hurt us... and now, as Wesley Pride Parades begin convening around the globe, it is evident that most are glad they took the medicine -- but still would have liked it a whole lot better had they been given the lollipop of Doyle's re-appearance as a palate cleanser.

It is characters like Doyle, Q, K-9 -- and, yes, even Wesley -- and the adoration they inspire, that display the true spirit of fandom. Even more than the series stars there to outshine them, they exemplify what it is that binds the ephemeral, and yet very real, genre community together. Who but a hopeless genre fan would obsess over some guy seen only once in Episode 11 enough to even care that he exists, let alone what brand of toothpaste he prefers? These characters show up, they make us interested in them, and then they (with their timing, looks, and ability to wear black) make us care. And, then, all too often, they die -- But that's another story. They are the at the very heart of genre fandom - no, more than that, they are at its soul. And more, much more than this, they do it their way.