Reviewed by Sanguine

The English word "potential" is derived from the Latin word for power (potens). As we know this season of BTVS is "all about power" it's not surprising that, at some point, an episode would be given this moniker, especially one about the training of potential slayers.

Rebecca Rand Kirshner's "Potential," like her earlier episode, "Help" did have potential and it had some very fine moments (more on that later). But it also suffered from stilted, awkward writing and anvilly moments regarding the Spuffy ship that could have been more effectively rendered.

First things first: the stilted writing. Nowhere was this more in evidence than in Buffy's speeches to the Slayers. If I have to hear Buffy going all Patton on the potentials one more time, I think I'm gonna hurl. Now, my response sounds more like the Buffy I grew to know and love in Seasons 1-5 than the brittle, hard, mostly humorless Speechifying!Buffy that I've seen training the Slayers the past few episodes. Yeah, I get that it's a war, but it's still a television show (a television show whose days are probably numbered) and I need to be entertained. Heck, this episode even squandered Clem, one of my favourite demons ever!

Now, onto the anvilly, completely unsubtle writing. Anyone who's read my reviews over the years can't have missed the fact that I like Spike. I like Buffy. I'm not sure if I like them together, outside of fanfic. It depends on my mood, how they're portrayed onscreen that week, and the astrological alignment of Venus with Mars (OK, I'm sorta kidding on the last thing, but bear with me). So I'm not adverse to Spuffy goodness, if it's done believably and it's done well. In other words, the Spuffy ship could have potential. Unfortunately, in "Potential" we suddenly get big inelegant anvils that Buffy Has Feelings For Spike. Of course, they've left things so late in the day that if a ship is going to happen, it better get sailing. Thus, the bad writing. If this anvilly goodness would have happened earlier, I might have been swept away on a tide of Spuffy emotion. But after the Buffster has had very little direct interaction with the guy all season, I'm suddenly supposed to believe that she's getting all broody over Souled Spike? Suddenly, she's straddling him and behaving in such a way that the Slayers-in-Training comment on the "hotness?" She's calling his crypt (the one she and Riley blew up) comfy? She's giving bizarre speeches to Amanda in the counseling office about how sometimes two people are mean to each other, but they like each other, but it's really over, yadda, yadda, yadda? The relationship between Buffy and Spike (romantic or no) is multi-layered, complex, and used to be extremely interesting (even last season, in my opinion). Now it's been reduced to teenaged angst. This was OK with Buffy and Angel, 'cause hey--Buffy was still a teenager and all, even if Angel wasn't. But Buffy and Spike's relationship was never about teenaged angst. To a certain extent, it was about power. Who had it, and who knew how to use it. I'm disappointed that some of the complexity, the emotional layering seen in other episodes has been completely erased.

This episode was not a complete wash. When things were good in this episode, Dawn and Xander were usually responsible.

Since Season 5's "Blood Ties" I've been aware that Michelle Trachtenberg, when given good material, can really, really act. Unfortunately, her talents were completely squandered in Season 6 and she became the whiny beast from hell. But in this episode she gave a nuanced, subtle performance. She was also given something substantial to work with. Trachtenberg excels in the quiet moments, when her eyes can do the talking: the scene as she watches Buffy train the potentials, when she realises she might be the next Slayer, when she discovers she isn't the Chosen One. The pain (and relief) of not having a destiny was expertly conveyed. As Buffy tells the potentials at the beginning of the episode, Slayers know their purpose. They have absolute clarity. Like their mortal enemies (the vampires) they must kill to live. Their mission is to save the world, a lot. The rest of us struggle and wonder and, if so inclined, seek solace in our imperfect faith.

I very rarely cry when watching a television programme, but I must admit to tearing up during this week's episode. The final scene between Xander and Dawn was so poignant and so expertly rendered by Brendon and Trachtenberg that I almost forgave Kirshner for the rest of the episode. Xander observes Dawn researching and approaches her. He knows exactly what she feels, because he's felt it himself, for seven long years. His friends are "powerful. All of them. And I'm the guy who fixes the windows." In this simple statement, we understand Xander's sadness, but also his commitment to help in the only way he can. It is much harder for those on the sidelines, those without a destiny, those that are never the center of attention (and this last statement is doubly poignant, as it rings true both for Xander and the actor who portrays him). But as Dawn quietly points out, the windows need to be fixed. Not everyone can have superpowers. But sometimes the true hero is the one who isn't on a mission of life and death, the one who "sees and knows," who quietly observes and offers comfort. Sometimes the true hero is Xander, the Zeppo. Let's give the boy a cape.