I have to say, I completely forgot about Sanctuary as I entered into the four-part Faith arc that crosses from season 4 of Buffy to season 1 of Angel. Perhaps it's easy to forget, in the midst of all the action and darkness and visceral imagery of torture and violence that have consumed the previous installments of that arc. But it's the most mature, thematically, of any episode up to this point that has dealt with the dilemma of Faith.
Back in BtVS season 3, at one point Wesley attempts to bring Faith back to the Watcher Council for their equivalent of justice. Buffy, believing Faith can still be brought back from the edge, is against this, but Willow voices the opinion that maybe it's what the girl deserves, after having assaulted Xander. It's a small moment in terms of screen times, but a significant one. Willow and Buffy have not really had many philosophical differences up to then; Willow tends to stand by Buffy when Xander, or even Giles, push back at her. It illustrates the division that Faith sows in the group, even unintentionally.
Sanctuary explores this question with much greater depth and significance. There is very little action in a conventional sense, apart from a helicopter shootout in the climax; it's not about that. It's about the battle to save a person's soul. This is where Angel as a series finally sets out its mission statement and distinguishes itself from being just a monster-of-the-week watered-down version of Buffy.
Joss Whedon co-write the teleplay for Sanctuary and it shows. Much of season 4 of Buffy and season 1 of Angel have relied too heavily on banter, exhausting the jokes and over-explaining the conflicts. Outside of some of his shakier episodes (looking at you, The Freshman) Whedon understands not only when to inject the perfect quip, but when not to. There's a crispness to Sanctuary, a minimalism where information is conveyed far more powerfully and efficiently than the typical ten pages of dialogue a given scene normally rates. At one point Angel comes downstairs to find Faith holding a knife. That's all that happens. She doesn't attack Angel or cut herself or engage in some other false histrionic display of melodrama. She's just holding a knife. But Whedon trusts us to understand the meaning, the tension of that moment. Faith has a history with knives, with violence directed at others and at herself. Figuratively, she's standing on a precipice; her grasp on reality, on redemption, is tenuous. She needs Angel to talk her down. The suspense is that simple, and subtle, and effective: will he be able to do that? It means a lot. It means more than we're explicitly being shown. It's nice, as a viewer, to be given that kind of credit.
The episode is about redemption. That's what the series is about, too. It's about redemption, and all of the messiness and gray areas and hard work that come with it. It's not the kind of sappy Hallmark feel-good redemption, where a character who was never really that bad to begin with has a change of heart and everybody celebrates. It is, to quote Buffy in Amends, hard and painful and every day. Faith has done some truly reprehensible things, and the question is, when do you give up on someone? The stance Angel takes in this episode is that you never give up on someone, no matter what they've done or who they've hurt. This puts him at odds with Wesley, with Cordelia, even with Buffy, who has come up from Sunnydale seeking resolution on the matter of Faith.
The thing that makes this episode so great, for me, is that it never chickens out or backs down from its subject matter or goes for the easy answer or deus ex machina. I abhor it when fiction feints at engaging with tough issues and then cops out with cheats and cheap plotting, like when a protagonist decides NOT to kill the antagonist because justice over vengeance, but then a piano falls on the bad guy's head anyway. That's cowardly writing--the writer reasons that the audience wants to see the villain get killed but they can't tarnish the virtue of the hero so they intervene and the universe exacts its own comeuppance or whatever. That's compromise. There's no compromise in Sanctuary. Angel makes his decision, even though nobody else will back him on it, and he sticks with it because he believes it's the right thing to do.
On the other hand, you can absolutely understand everybody else's perspective and why they can't support him in his choice. Cordy and (especially) Wesley feel hurt that Angel would prioritize Faith over them. Buffy, at one time convinced she herself could save Faith if she simply didn't give up on her, has crossed her own threshold for compassion long ago. When she shouts at Faith, "I gave you EVERY chance!" you can really feel her anger and betrayal, and she's not wrong. (I wish Xander had a similar moment somewhere along the line, after Faith sexually assaulted him and then was invited right back into the group.)
This is where Angel has to come to terms with what it means to fight for redemption. It means, sometimes, turning your back on the people who feel they've loved and supported you. It means making decisions no one else can understand. It means giving up everything in pursuit of what you think is right, even if no one else will stand by you. He learns here that this is his purpose, his path. Because it's not just Faith's redemption he's fighting for, but his own.
Back in BtVS season 3, at one point Wesley attempts to bring Faith back to the Watcher Council for their equivalent of justice. Buffy, believing Faith can still be brought back from the edge, is against this, but Willow voices the opinion that maybe it's what the girl deserves, after having assaulted Xander. It's a small moment in terms of screen times, but a significant one. Willow and Buffy have not really had many philosophical differences up to then; Willow tends to stand by Buffy when Xander, or even Giles, push back at her. It illustrates the division that Faith sows in the group, even unintentionally.
Sanctuary explores this question with much greater depth and significance. There is very little action in a conventional sense, apart from a helicopter shootout in the climax; it's not about that. It's about the battle to save a person's soul. This is where Angel as a series finally sets out its mission statement and distinguishes itself from being just a monster-of-the-week watered-down version of Buffy.
Joss Whedon co-write the teleplay for Sanctuary and it shows. Much of season 4 of Buffy and season 1 of Angel have relied too heavily on banter, exhausting the jokes and over-explaining the conflicts. Outside of some of his shakier episodes (looking at you, The Freshman) Whedon understands not only when to inject the perfect quip, but when not to. There's a crispness to Sanctuary, a minimalism where information is conveyed far more powerfully and efficiently than the typical ten pages of dialogue a given scene normally rates. At one point Angel comes downstairs to find Faith holding a knife. That's all that happens. She doesn't attack Angel or cut herself or engage in some other false histrionic display of melodrama. She's just holding a knife. But Whedon trusts us to understand the meaning, the tension of that moment. Faith has a history with knives, with violence directed at others and at herself. Figuratively, she's standing on a precipice; her grasp on reality, on redemption, is tenuous. She needs Angel to talk her down. The suspense is that simple, and subtle, and effective: will he be able to do that? It means a lot. It means more than we're explicitly being shown. It's nice, as a viewer, to be given that kind of credit.
The episode is about redemption. That's what the series is about, too. It's about redemption, and all of the messiness and gray areas and hard work that come with it. It's not the kind of sappy Hallmark feel-good redemption, where a character who was never really that bad to begin with has a change of heart and everybody celebrates. It is, to quote Buffy in Amends, hard and painful and every day. Faith has done some truly reprehensible things, and the question is, when do you give up on someone? The stance Angel takes in this episode is that you never give up on someone, no matter what they've done or who they've hurt. This puts him at odds with Wesley, with Cordelia, even with Buffy, who has come up from Sunnydale seeking resolution on the matter of Faith.
The thing that makes this episode so great, for me, is that it never chickens out or backs down from its subject matter or goes for the easy answer or deus ex machina. I abhor it when fiction feints at engaging with tough issues and then cops out with cheats and cheap plotting, like when a protagonist decides NOT to kill the antagonist because justice over vengeance, but then a piano falls on the bad guy's head anyway. That's cowardly writing--the writer reasons that the audience wants to see the villain get killed but they can't tarnish the virtue of the hero so they intervene and the universe exacts its own comeuppance or whatever. That's compromise. There's no compromise in Sanctuary. Angel makes his decision, even though nobody else will back him on it, and he sticks with it because he believes it's the right thing to do.
On the other hand, you can absolutely understand everybody else's perspective and why they can't support him in his choice. Cordy and (especially) Wesley feel hurt that Angel would prioritize Faith over them. Buffy, at one time convinced she herself could save Faith if she simply didn't give up on her, has crossed her own threshold for compassion long ago. When she shouts at Faith, "I gave you EVERY chance!" you can really feel her anger and betrayal, and she's not wrong. (I wish Xander had a similar moment somewhere along the line, after Faith sexually assaulted him and then was invited right back into the group.)
This is where Angel has to come to terms with what it means to fight for redemption. It means, sometimes, turning your back on the people who feel they've loved and supported you. It means making decisions no one else can understand. It means giving up everything in pursuit of what you think is right, even if no one else will stand by you. He learns here that this is his purpose, his path. Because it's not just Faith's redemption he's fighting for, but his own.
