• Hire adecent director. Pretty much it should be someone out of the following list: Guillermo del Toro, Alfonso Cuarón, J.J. Abrams, Jon Favreau, Bryan Singer, Sam Raimi, or Darren Aronofsky. Or if they don't want to go with an A lister give a talented young director a shot at a big franchise. Give me a Pierre Morel, a Rian Johnson, a Nicolas Winding Refn, or even a Neil Marshall. I'd even take an unexpected choice like David Gordon Green. Just get someone who could maybe do agood job. Take a run at Tim Minear, he knows the universe and should be decent. Just no hacks please.
• If during the first part of the movie Buffy wants to kill a family of vampires named the "Kullens" or just an obnoxious pretty boy named "Tedward" or something, that'd just be peachy.
• Cast someone as Buffy who can maybe act a little bit. I like looking at Megan Fox as much as the next guy, but I wouldn't exactly call her a great actress. So let's try to avoid the eye candy that doesn't have a lick of natural talent, ok?
• Have you thought about giving Buffy a British watcher? I think it'd be a good idea. I even have the perfect casting choice. How about this guy. Or this one. I guess if you really want to go in a different direction you could hire this guyas more of a badass tough guy watcher.
• Actually make the villain frightening, and threatening. Basically the opposite of Lothos from the original film. Basically they need to create the Joker of the Buffy universe, without just stealing the best villains from the series (I'm looking at you Angelus and Spike).
• Before writing the movie watch the Underworld movies, Twilight, the Blade movies, True Blood, and any other recent portrayals of vampires. Make sure that your vampires are different from all of these, but still follow the same basic rules. In other words, killed by stake, sunlight, decapitation. Need to be invited in. Fangs, drink blood. Know your rules and stick with them. No shiny vampires please.
• Make the tone wildly different from the series. Don't even try for the comedic moments that were the hallmark of the series. It'll never be as good, and will just make people think that the film is a second rate knockoff (which it is, but you don't have to play that up).
• Have you thought about an R rating? I know that you probably think that this is a franchise for kids, but nothing would say that you're taking it in a new, darker direction than going right for the R rating. I doubt you'll go for this, but you should think about it.
• Change the name. Don't even call it Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Just call it Slayerand give us a brand new character in the same universe. The existing fanbase would be much more willing to go along with this idea, than the idea of rebooting the character they know and love. Having the Buffy name won't do you much good if you alienate the core fanbase. It doesn't have enough positive name recognition to make it without them.
• Two words: Hire Joss.

"It's been a long road getting here. For you. For Sunnydale. There was been achievement, joy, good times. And there has been grief. There's been loss. Some people who should be here today... aren't. But we are. Journeys end. And what is a journey? Is it just.. distance travelled? Time spent? No. It's what happens on the way, it's the things that shape you. At the end of the journey you're not the same. Today is about change. Graduation doesn't just mean your circumstances change, it means you do. You ascend... to a higher level. Nothing will ever be the same. Nothing."

The villains always sum things up, looking right into the heart of things, better than anyone else. The big bad of seasonthree of Buffy, Mayor Richard Wilkins (Harry Groener), is no exception. Season three truly was the end of a journey. The original metaphor of the series, "high school is hell" would have to come to an end with the principal characters graduation at the end of the season.

The graduation of the characters would be far from the only change we'd see by the end of the season. New characters would be introduced, including a new slayer, Faith (Eliza Dushku), and Xander's future love interest, vengeance demon Anya (Emma Caulfield) and few of our favorites, Angel and Cordelia, would depart at the end of the season, spinning off into their own show, Angel.

There's a slow build on the season long arc for season three. Over time we're given glimpses of how Mayor Wilkins runs the town, covering up the stranger goings on in Sunnydale. By the end of the season we see the full extent of his evil as he prepares to ascend, transforming into a true demon. His every action moving things toward his goal, even as he wraps Faith into it.

It's in the character of Faith, and her relationship with Buffy that we see the heart of the season. Faith is almost the dark aspect of Buffy herself. In her maxim of "want, take, have" she's the abuse of slayer power incarnate. It's a path that Buffy very easily could have followed herself, and perhaps would have (as evidenced in the alternate version of Buffy seen in the episode The Wish) if it weren't for the friends and family that keep her grounded. Buffy sees the life she could live, flirts with it, and rejects it, ultimately forcing a confrontation between the two that has to end with the destruction of one of them.

Out of all the seasons of Buffyseason three does the best at combining the stand alone, monster of the week stories with the season long arc. There are a few clunkers here and there (like Beauty and the Beasts, or Homecoming) but even the lesser episodes have their entertaining moments.I think that if yousurveyed any fan of the series quite a few of their favorite episodes would befrom season three.

Everything from all the adults in town being turned into teenagers by chocolate (Band Candy) toSpike's drunken,despondent return to Sunnydale (Lover's Walk) andAngel playing undercover tolearn the Mayor's plan (Enemies)contribute to the story. It's impossible to pickout just a few of the seminal moments. There's even an episode(The Wish)that shows the alternate Sunnydale that would have existed if Buffy had never come to town. Then the gang gets to interact with the vampire Willow from that world as she visits theirs (Dopplegangland).

By the end of the season the charactershave grown and matured to the point where they are ready to move on from high school. Willowhas grown in confidence and in magical abilities,and crafted a deep, mature relationship with Oz. Xander realizes that he's more than just the odd man out inThe Zeppo,to the point where he can save the gang all on hisown without anyone knowing. Even Cordelia grows out of her spoiled rich girl persona by the end of the season. She's still the Cordelia we've come to know and love, but with more depth andcaring.

As is fitting, at the very end of the season Sunnydale High is destroyed, blown apart in the battle against the mayor. The characters have graduated, they don't need it anymore.

The Worst Episode: I've never liked Beauty and the Beasts. It's so "very special episode" in its anti domestic violence message (not that I think domestic violence is good, just a little subtlety would be nice).

The Best Episode: It may not be for everyone, but I just completely love The Zeppo. It take the usual A and B story structure of the show and flips them around. Highly hilarious, and huge for Xander's character.

Some of My Favorite Moments:

Spike's speech about how Angel and Buffy will never be friends, and will always be in love. It all ends with one of my favorite quotes ever, "I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it."

Willow pretending to be her vampire self.

Buffy reading her mom's mind about what she did with Giles."Twice! On the hood of a police car!"

Faith dances.A lot. She always seems to be dancing for some reason.

When the students give Buffy the class protector award at The Prom. It's a misty eyed sort of moment.

The final battleat SunnydaleHigh from Graduation Day, Part 2. It's inspirational.

This is right up there with season two for my favorite seasons of the show. It has what I consider to be the best big bad (the Mayor) and it's the last time we get to see the whole gang together.

Which isn't to say that it's all bad. I find Echo's handler, Boyd Langston (Harry Lennix) to be quite interesting, and the real emotional heart of the show. Amy Acker has been good in her small part. Some of the mythology elements, like the Alpha storyline, have the potential to really develop into something special. I could really see the show becoming a great show, but it sure isn't there yet.

Dead Like Me: LifeAfter Death

I like the idea of a Dead Like Me movie, and the distribution process it represents, more than I actually like the end result. Life After Death isn't terrible, it's mildly enjoyable, like one of the lesser episodes of the series, which is the problem.

George Lass (Ellen Muth) has been dead for five years, and has adjusted to life as a reaper when she, along with her coworkers Roxy (Jasmine Guy), Mason (Callum Blue) and Daisy (Sarah Wynter taking over the role that was played by Laura Harris during the series), finds out that their boss Rube (the sorely missed Mandy Patinkin) has moved on to be replaced by a new one, Cameron (Henry Ian Cusick). He's a bit more on the lax side, throwing out all the rules and letting the reapers do anything they want, often with disastrousconsequences. It's up to George to set things right with both the reapers and her kid sister Reggie (Britt McKillip).

I think that the problem with Life After Deathis what's missing from the movie, namely series creator Bryan Fuller, and actor Mandy Patinkin. Fuller's run on the series had a great sense of dark comedy that was missed in the film. While it has its funny moments, it's trying for a more serious tone. I wish that they had worked more with Fuller to create a film that'd fit better with the tone of the series.

Patinkin's Rube was the philosophical center of Dead Like Me. Much like the characters, the film is lost without him. There isn't the drive, or moral core, that Rube would always provide. It was a shame that they couldn't get him to be a part of the film. I just miss the post-it notes and especially Der Wafflehouse.

I mildly enjoyed the film, but wished that it could have been better. The distribution model, of reviving a cancelled series via direct to DVD films excites me, as much for it's future potential (ahem, Pushing Daisies) as for the present so I hope the film is more financially successful than it is creatively successful.

Grade: C+

Hope. It's a great driving force. It keeps us going long after we should have quit. It gives a purpose. A light in the darkest night. Something to guide us home. But what happens when that light is extinguished? When whatever hope we had disappears? What do we do then? The opener of the latest half season of Battlestar Galactica "Sometimes a Great Notion" poses these very questions.

When last we left the colonial fleet and their Cylon allies, they had reached an Earth that'd be completed destroyed. Instead of the new home that they'd been searching for, they found a nuclear wasteland. The one great hope they had left had been dashed in the most dramatic fashion.

With no hope left, we pick up right where we left off. The characters standing in the rubble, trying to comprehend it all, completely overwhelmed. Some of them, like Admiral Adama, are all business, just trying to figure out what to do next. Others, like Lt. Dualla wander off by themselves, sifting through the rubble, just thinking. The four revealed Cylons (Tyrol, Anders, Tigh and Torrie) are flooded with memories of the place and time when they lived on the planet, and its destruction. Nobody knows exactly what to do with themselves. Everybody reacts differently to their situation.

Without the hope of Earth leading them, they lose their way. President Roslin burns the Pythian Prophecy, the document that she's faithfully followed every step of the way. It's defined how she should act, and where she should go. Her destroying it, coupled with her decision to stop chemotherapy treatment, shows that she's given up on the future. She's going to live completely in the present, because there is no future. Once a true believer, when she lost her hope she lost her faith.

She isn't the only believer to suffer a crisis of confidence. Leoben, the poet-prophet, of the Cylon race is shaken to his very core by the discoveries on Earth. He's always been a constant on the show. No matter what crazy things happen, he always believes that it's a part of the plan, that God has a purpose. You could always count on Leoben in his unwavering belief. But when Kara starts to find pieces of her own viper on the surface, doubts start to creep in. He openly wonders if he was wrong about the future, and is left completely speechless when Kara discovers her own body in the cockpit of the wrecked viper. The man who always has something to say doesn't have anything to say.

At the heart of the entire episode is Lt. Dualla's hopelessness. She's always been a calming force, a voice of reason in the maelstrom of the series. No matter what was happening you could always count on Dualla's calming, measured, voice in the CIC. It's unthinkable that she would ever despair so much that she'd take her own life. It's as if she had been telling herself that if she could just hold it together until they reached Earth that everything would be all right. When it wasn't, she didn't know how to cope anymore. She experiences a range of emotions from overwhelmed on the surface, and in the raptor back to Galactica to accepting when she's with Lee and finally to despair as she ends it all. There was a sense that things were never going to be as good as they were immediately after her date with Lee again, so might as well end it now. It was emotional stomach punch on the order of Wash's death in Serenity. Once Dualla was dead, we knew that all bets were off.

Dualla's death becomes the catalyst that pushes everything else over the edge. Lee goes from cracking jokes, fighting off despair with dark humor, to being completely devastated. Admiral Adama doesn't even care while the ship is falling apart around him. The crew are just hanging around in the passageways, grafitti is scrawled on the walls, fights are breaking out and he just walks right on past. He's given up so much that he tries to get Colonel Tigh to kill him.

Is this what will happen to all of us if we lose hope? If we don't have something to believe in, to work towards, do we fall into despair and drift aimlessly? I believe that we do. Without hope we're just as lost as the crew of Galactica. It's the only thing that keeps us going. Even completely unfounded hope. Hope that we know can't possibly be real. Hope that things will stay the same. Hope that they'll get better. Hope for a brighter future. Or just for a home. When all our hopes have been crushed, we must pick up the pieces and start anew.

Which is exactly what Bill Adama does. He pushes himself to the brink of despair, but then he picks himself back up and goes back to work. Starts planning for a future. He doesn't know what's going to happen, but he's going to try his best to find a home for the fleet. He believes in something again. He has hope.

Over time I've come to realize that one of those touchstone relationships for me is the JD/Elliot relationship from Scrubs. It's almost a cliched TV relationship in that it's on-again, off-again, they're friends and lovers and everything else, but always a part of each other's lives. It feels very realistic and normal within the world of the show, but if you hold up against the real world it doesn't quite hold up. Or at least it wouldn't be something that you'd want to model behavior after. Which is not something I meant to do, but I think I have to some degree.

If I look closely at their dynamic, at the "no matter what happens, we're still there for each otherness" of it all, I can see my expectations. That you can make changes to a relationship just by addressing the issue. If something is wrong you can just talk it out. That everyone is all in, no matter what. Which is just patently untrue. But somewhere in the back of my mind, in a portion that takes over when I'm in similar situations, I expect it to be. Somewhat of a problem that. Doesn't work out well at all.

I guess I can take comfort in that fact that it does work in the fantasy world of Scrubs. JD and Elliot can just sit down and talk it out and everything's ok (just like in this week's episode "My Happy Place"). Pity it doesn't really work that way.

This situation would be interesting enough by itself, but it's the reaction of the colonials that were left behind that makes it brilliant. As we open season three, Chief Tyrol and Anders are leading a bombing campaign against Cylon targets, while Colonel Tigh is in prison under suspicion of being a terrorist. Which, as we see as soon as he gets out, is completely accurate. He's willing to take any step necessary to hurt the Cylons, including suicide bombings on human targets and the targeted assasination of "collaborators." So we're placed in the position of having the "heroes" of the piece engaging in terrorist activities in resistance to an occupying force.

It creates quite the moral conundrum, asking more questions than it provides answers. Things like, "how far are we willing to go in a desperate situation?" or "what's the value of a single human life in relation to the freedom of many lives?" or even "if you become just as monstrous as the monster you're fighting, does your victory mean anything?" Is it even possible to really answer these questions without being in that type of situation. I don't think I know.

I'd like to think that I would somehow be "better" than that. That I would have some sort of moral code that would stop me from doing the worst, from sacrificing everything else to survive, but I kind of doubt it. Even just watching the show I can see myself thinking that they're effective tactics. That they seemed to be working. That you "do what you have to do" to survive.

I'm not even just talking about Tigh, Galen and the resistance here either. Gaeta played both sides, only managing to survive by betraying everything he believed in and working with the people who annihilated his species. Even if he did feed information to the resistance, does that absolve him of his guilt? Or what about Baltar himself? He surrendered and collaborated with the Cylons to save himself, and to keep everybody else alive. What would you do in that situation? Would you fight to the bitter end, ensuring your own death, and possibly the deaths of everyone else? Or would you, like Baltar and Gaeta, cooperate in the hope of your own, and maybe others, survival.

So ask yourself these questions. Think about what you would do, how you would react. It's in these types of questions, in these situations that we really get to see our true selves.