Allegations prompt a reassessment of Whedon
Once a fan of the “Buffy” creator, Kelly Lawler has hard time with “Nevers.” News & Views,
There was a time in my life when a new series from writer-director Joss Whedon would be cause for celebration and excitement rather than angst, dread and self-reflection.
That time was before actors Ray Fisher and Charisma Carpenter accused Whedon – the creator of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” “Angel,” “Firefly” and director of Marvel’s 2012 “Avengers” film – of abusive and inappropriate on-set behavior.
Fisher, who outlined his claims against Whedon in detail Tuesday in a Hollywood Reporter story, first said in July 2020 that the director was “gross, abusive, unprofessional and completely unacceptable” on the set of 2017’s “Justice League,” which Whedon worked on after original director Zack Snyder stepped away for personal reasons. An internal investigation at WarnerMedia, the corporate parent of “Justice” studio Warner Bros., followed.
In February, Carpenter, 50, who appeared as Cordelia Chase on “Buffy” and “Angel” from 1997-2004, accused Whedon, 56, of emotional abuse and misconduct, tweeting that she experienced “certain events that traumatize me to this day.” After Carpenter released her statement, she received a wave of support from her “Buffy” co-stars, including Sarah Michelle Gellar, Michelle Trachtenberg and Eliza Dushku.
Now, as Whedon’s latest series, “The Nevers,” arrives on HBO Sunday (9 EDT/PDT), I wonder how to approach the show and, indeed, all of Whedon’s previous work.
As a TV critic, I am frequently faced with separating art from the artist. But just because it comes up so often – as so many artists have been accused of bad or criminal behavior – doesn’t mean figuring it out gets any easier.
Can I watch “Nevers” – with its dull, steampunk, “X-Men” vibe – and try to see what’s on the screen, and not reflect on what allegedly has happened off camera on earlier projects?
“Nevers,” for which Whedon produced just six of 12 episodes before exiting in November, citing the strains of the pandemic, is set in Victorian London, where a mysterious event has imbued a handful of people (most of them women) with strange powers. One can see energy, another can speak every language, a third is a giant. A group of the “touched,” as they are known, live and work together, led by Amalia True (Laura Donnelly) and Penance Adair (Ann Skelly). Amalia and Penance try to protect the “touched” they’ve gathered, but other forces try to capture and exploit them.
After watching the four episodes made available for review, I can say that “Nevers” is distinctly mediocre. A grab bag of Whedon’s most reliedupon tropes and most annoying tics, “Nevers” feels less like a new show than the shadow of series past. Perhaps its most grievous offense is that, in trying to make superpowers part of the Victorian normal, it renders them downright boring. Clairvoyance was never so tedious as when it’s discussed in snobbish small talk.
“Nevers” has the potential, beyond Whedon’s tenure, to improve upon its messy debut and to shake off its realworld baggage. After a break, the series will return for the second half of its season with new episodes overseen by producer Phillipa Goslett.
It’s easier to lump art and artist together when the work isn’t very good. “Justice League,” for instance, is a terrible movie I never wanted to revisit, even before Fisher spoke out.
Yet WB’s “Buffy” was formative for me. I spent afternoons consuming the DVD box sets as an awkward teen. I relished the moment when I introduced my husband to the series. A shared love of “Buffy” even led to a marriage in my family.
But now, can I tune into an old episode of “Buffy,” once a balm during hard times, without thinking of what Carpenter claims about her experience playing Cordelia? Can I see the whiteness of its cast without thinking of Fisher’s allegations about how he was treated as a Black man? Likely not.
I realized that the allegations against Whedon were reflective of some of my long-held reservations about his work. Rather than separating the artist and his art, the public controversy has made me reassess the art entirely.
In the fourth season of “Angel,” a pregnant Cordelia turns inexplicably evil, eventually giving birth to a nefarious entity that had possessed her. In Season 5, she returns for one brief episode, only to die off screen. It’s a complete betrayal, and practically an outright dismissal of a character who was one of the most important to both that series and “Buffy,” where she began. Fans had long whispered among themselves, wondering if Carpenter had been fired for getting pregnant. In her February statement, she described “passive-aggressive” threats to fire her and said Whedon called her fat when she was four months pregnant.
Although Whedon often is considered a paragon of male feminists, when you look beyond “Buffy” his female characters often are poorly served. On “Angel,” not a single major female character survives to the end of the series. In addition to Cordelia, Angel’s (David Boreanaz) old flame Darla (Julie Benson), kills herself in Season 3. Scientist Fred (Amy Acker) is consumed by an ancient being at the tail end of Season 5, only to have her body used as a vessel for someone else.
I also have come to disdain Whedon’s “Dollhouse,” a sci-fi drama in which people whose consciousness has been temporarily excised from their bodies are rented out to the rich to fulfill their every desire. The series eventually became a dark saga about the nature of life, technology and wealth, yet its lead, “Buffy” alum Dushku, frequently was scantily clad. Its exploitative nature never sat well with me during its brief run on Fox, but I shook off my doubts because I assumed I would like all of Whedon’s work.
There are more examples: In 2015’s “Avengers: Age of Ultron,” Whedon’s last Marvel film, Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) is made to feel inferior because she was sterilized by the Russian agency that trained her to be an assassin, as if a member of the Avengers’ worth was based only on her capacity to reproduce. In Season 6 of “Buffy,” lesbian character Tara (Amber Benson) is killed, an early example of the damaging “bury your gays” trope in which LGBTQ characters are disproportionately killed in TV shows.
My experience with Whedon’s TV and films is not unique. Many fans over the past year, including myself, have reevaluated the “Harry Potter” books after author J.K. Rowling made comments on transgender rights that have been widely condemned as transphobic.
Separating art and artist feels like a moot point to me. We can’t separate them, no more than we can separate a politician from a public policy or a chef from the meal they prepared. We can, when faced with allegations against a once-beloved creator of acclaimed work, take a step back and figure out what it means to each of us.
“Buffy” is certainly part of the reason I pursued a career as a TV critic, and thus it helped shape my entire adult life. The joy the series brought me isn’t gone. But I don’t see it the same way anymore. No amount of separation can change that.