Buffy: The Musical
UPN

Executive producers will resort to just about anything to pull in stellar Nielsens during the sweeps period — even making their stars sing and dance. The Nov. 6 episode of "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" was a veritable rock opera, proving that even the most independent of programs needs to, um, put on a show this time of year.

But before you roll your eyes and mutter "jumped the shark," remember that this is arguably the most inventive and open-minded show on television. It features a sexually active lesbian couple without promos for hot lesbo action, ala "Ally McBeal." It once showcased an episode built around a 29-minute silent period. Last season, an unexplained little sister showed up, and later, both Buffy and her mom were killed off. And then there was the little matter of switching networks.

Joss Whedon, the show's executive producer, does whatever he wants to do and generally succeeds. And the musical episode was no exception. Like its other daring episodes, "Buffy" took what could easily have been a ratings-grabbing cliché and turned it on its head, using the format in a completely organic way. Featuring more dancing ghouls than the "Thriller" video, "Buffy's" musical episode centered on the secrets fracturing its main characters. Whedon recently told Entertainment Weekly that he wanted to do a musical because "songs in musicals allow characters to sing what they can't say. And in the case of our characters, the things they really shouldn't say."

These include things like Buffy's ambivalence toward life, her growing affection for the show's resident vampire, Spike, and her despondence over her pals ripping her out of heaven. Then there are the problems facing her friends: Her best friend Willow used magic to manipulate her girlfriend Tara's memory; Buffy's watcher, Giles, wants to go back to England; and Xander, another trusty sidekick, is getting cold feet about his impending nuptials to an ex-demon named Anya. And her sister Dawn is still a brat.

They all do a pretty good job of keeping these concerns to themselves, until a demon who makes people sing out their deepest fears shows up in Sunnydale. Suddenly, all the world's a stage filled with soulful duets and jazz hands.

Everyone's secrets come spilling out through songs that invoke Stephen Sondheim and late '70s guitar rock. Sondheim and Whedon share an affinity for the darkness of the everyday, but they also share a hope for humanity, something extremely evident in the musical episode. As the characters confront all of the things they keep from each other, they realize the only way to overcome hardship is to be totally honest. The only way to save the world is to face directly what scares you the most.

As for the production numbers, the cast acquits itself fairly well. Anthony Stewart Head (Giles) and Amber Benson (Tara) could probably land recording contracts if they were interested. And should the bad-adaptation-of-classic-tales-with-teens genre ever dry up, there's probably a place for Sarah Michelle Gellar (Buffy) to hoof it on Broadway.

Adept song-and-dance action aside, the most striking thing about the episode is that it never feels like a gimmick. The characters burst into song for reasons natural to their environment, and the episode advances the show's storylines in an entirely plausible fashion. For a show that has the labyrinthine, seemingly nonsensical plots of a soap opera, that's a real accomplishment.

And it's an accomplishment for sweeps season as well. Making the musical was taking a risk. It could have backfired, and been little more than viewer-chasing machination. But instead, Whedon embraced the conventions of the musical and made it his own, proving that "Buffy" has staying power. Now that's something to sing about.

— Stephanie Kuenn (smkuenn at gmail dot com)