Cordelia Chase—She Took What She Got and She Did Her Best With It

**Due to recent misinterpretations of some one post from this blog, a disclaimer is now apparently necessary.  If this is your first visit to The Scratched Camera, please read the introductory post and discover, for yourself, that every typed word that follows is unabashedly my opinion and mine alone.  In said introductory post, which, shockingly, I did not simply type up for my own good health, I state that we all read events and characters with our own baggage in mind; no one observes with a perfectly clear lens—hence the name The Scratched Camera.  Therefore, it is completely your will to disagree with any material that follows, just as it is my will to agree and advocate for what is mine.**  ~End, irritating obligatory disclaimer~

Cordelia Chase—She Took What She Got and She Did Her Best With It

            Cordelia has been dealt a lot of unpleasant hands in the course of her time on both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel.  When I rewatch the series and I see Cordy carelessly bop her way around The Bronze, I almost cringe as I recall precisely what fate lies ahead of her.  Sure, selfish and tactless Cordy has her issues, but knowing where the character ends her journey draws stark attention to the insignificance of her scathing remarks issued to the Scoobies. 

            Upon the first viewing of BtVS, however, the audience is of course unaware of the unpleasant nature that ends the character’s storyline.  In the first season of Buffy, Cordy has years before she needs to truly worry about any fundamental changes being forced upon her character.  Therefore, it isn’t surprising to see a stubborn adolescent with no filter and a bad temper brought on by the false sense of invincibility prompted by popularity. 

            Chase was created as Buffy’s foil, meant to mirror the humble origins of the protagonist as presented in the film adaptation completed several years before the television show was commissioned.  Therefore, Cordelia spends the entire first season in this manner, ever the superficial, shallow valley girl who values little more than her own popularity. 

            That all changes with the entrance of Marcie Ross in Out of Mind, Out of Sight.  Previous to this occurrence, Cordelia, like the majority of Sunnydale High’s attendees, was completely ignorant to the prominent presence of supernatural beings in their town.  However, Marcie, a fellow high school student who has been rendered invisible due to a lack of attention from her classmates and teachers—again with the heavy metaphor there, Joss—makes Cordy acutely aware of the evil forces that surround her. 

            Regardless of Chase’s newfound awareness, the Scoobies will spend the bulk of the season chasing her down to save her (get it?  Good one there, Joss).  In the process, she will find herself squarely located in the position of the concept I have developed entitled the Triple F—The Fronting Feisty Female; while Cordy is sassy enough to tear anyone to shreds mentally, she still spends the first year of the show waiting for the Scoobies—most often Buffy, a refreshing change, as the savior of the Triple F is typically the predominant male protagonist—to come and save her.

            After this, she feels a sense of loyalty to the Scoobies, undeniably due to the fact that they do tend to save her life quite frequently, as she continues to hold her crown as the reigning Queen C damsel in distress.  However, when forced to choose, she would continue to side with her popular friends, if they can even really be called that. 

            The second season introduces the concept of a relationship between Cordelia and Xander.  It is not necessarily the relationship—or subsequent breakup and reconciliation—that concerns me.  In the process of reaccepting Xander, she snubs Harmony, claiming the blonde is nothing more than a sheep that imitates the creativity and initiative of others just to say she did it first.  As she proclaims she’s better than her longtime friend because “I do what I wanna do and wear what I wanna wear,” Cordy doesn’t know it yet, but she’s just taken a rather large step towards progress.  By actively choosing Xander—and, by association, the Scoobies—over the superficial and fashionable choice of the popular kids, she’s sealed her own fate.  Had she chosen to stay on her path towards marrying well and living her life as a trophy wife, perhaps Cordy’s story wouldn’t have ended so tragically.  However, by association, she would’ve also missed the phenomenal development and growth the character experiences in the years to come. 

            The growth I refer to doesn’t truly start to happen until she leaves Sunnydale for Los Angelus.  Her family has lost their money due to tax evasion, forcing Cordy to realize she’s actually going to have to work to earn the money required to maintain the lifestyle she has grown accustomed to.  Of course, the loss of financial stability hasn’t changed Cordelia so much as to lessen her desire for recognition and popularity, as she settles on acting as her chosen career.  Again, this choice, so insignificant at the time, prevails to be one of the most important choices of Chase’s young life, as it serves to cross her path with Angel’s once more. 

            There’s a further touch of the Triple F here in City Of… as Angel is forced to save Cordy from a vampire.  However, she quickly recovers, as she volunteers herself to serve as his secretary in an attempt to help him help the helpless.  Originally, her intentions aren’t necessarily organic, as her lack of acting jobs leaves her without money to pay the rent for her cockroach-infested apartment.  However, as time carries on, she grows very attached to both Angel and Doyle, the half-human conduit for The Powers That Be who provides the developing detective agency with visions of those in need of assistance.

            In Hero, Doyle sacrifices himself to save others from an attempt at demon genocide.  Before he dies, he kisses Chase, in the process passing his visions to her as a way of a parting gift. 

            She spends the rest of the first season attempting to come to terms with the migraine-inducing passing present from Doyle.  At first, she views them as a heavy burden, one she has no desire to bear.  However, in the first season finale, To Shanshu in L.A., Cordelia is cursed to receive an onslaught of visions, receiving excruciating first-hand encounters of various people in pain around the world.  The experience almost kills her, but, more importantly, it undeniably changed her opinion on her situation for the rest of the series.  The visions, previously viewed as little more than an incredibly painful nuisance, now serve as Cordy’s hard-wire towards a greater purpose.  Once she has recovered, she vows to both Wesley and Angel to help as many people in pain as she possibly can. 

            This isn’t to say Cordy has lost her edge.  One of my favorite characteristics of the character is her blunt honesty and lack of filter.  While everyone else scrambles frantically to get away from Buffy’s ability to read their minds in the BtVS season three episode Earshot, Chase merely shrugs it off as she consistently voices the exact thought that runs through her mind.  The Cordelia we find in season two of Angel may be slightly more compassionate, but still lacks the certain level of tact required for her to be truly socially acceptable. 

            The term socially acceptable has never been necessarily applicable to Cordy in my mind.  She strives to stand out, to be popular, to be above the rest.  In high school, this meant having the best clothing and make-up.  As a result, some critics view Cordelia as the embodiment of the stereotypical feminine character—so beautiful she simultaneously earns the envy of every woman and the affection of every man.

For women to fit into this mold, which I refer to as the Belle Paradigm—based on the graceful and overly-generous Beauty and the Beast character who is just too much the perfect depiction of what society thinks a woman should be for her to hold much relatablility—she must be elegant and dignified, as well as impeccably compassionate and empathetic. 

            This, to me, does not describe Cordelia.  She is, of course, skilled in the application of make-up and the selection of clothing.  However, she has a distinct edge to her—a brutal honesty—which, while preventing her from holding the same level of class, and thereby, setting the same sort of example as seen in characters such as Belle, allows her to mold a model of her own.  Two critics—Susanne Kord and Elisabeth Krimer—agree with this concept, as they declare Cordy as the “antithesis of female self-sacrifice,” as she displays “the opposite of the kind of hypocrisy that is typically attributed to women.” 

            There isn’t much I don’t love about this quote and its high applicability to Cordelia.  There is a conception amongst society that, for a woman to be acceptable and tolerated, she must display a certain level of tact and restraint when deciphering which of her thoughts to voice.  Of course, in the process of doing so, society then often declares women as hypocrites or liars, refraining or refusing to share their true beliefs on a matter, producing an inescapable vicious circle.  Cordelia takes this concept and, quite frequently, spits in the face of it.  She cares very little whether what is about to come out of her mouth will hurt the feelings of anyone surrounding her.  When she thinks something needs to be said, it is said without an ounce of hesitation or inhibition.  

            This edge to her personality will help to keep her sane as her journey carries her progressively further away from her valley girl origins.  In Angel’s season three episode Birthday, the incredibly amusing, yet unfortunately equally evil demon named Skip informs Cordy the visions are killing her, as humans naturally lack the supernatural strength to bear them.  Skip offers to rewrite Cordelia’s past, back to the very party where she once again met Angel.  Had she taken a mere few steps to the right instead of the left, she would’ve met a contact that could’ve propelled her to super-stardom as an actress.  Skip admits that he has the ability to change her history so that events play out as, in his words, they were supposed to. 

            Chase takes the deal and is suddenly propelled into an alternate universe, in which she’s a popular television star with an equally popular and catchy theme song and sequence involving an adorable dog.  She has a falsified memory of her time spent in Los Angelus, and yet her core compassion continues to compel her to help the helpless, as she manages to find her way back to their current case.  In the process, she finds a distraught and wild Angel, who, in her absence, has been forced to take on the visions with less than stellar results. 

            In pain at seeing her friend from the past suffering, Cordelia kisses Angel, giving herself the visions once more and setting her path back to its original intended ending.  A final offer is issued, in which Cordelia can compromise her humanity to become a half-demon, in the name of retaining her visions and, thereby, her ability to help those in need.  Cordelia takes the deal, her drive to help those who need it most superseding her own superficial need to be human.  With his farewell, Skip issues her one last warning—the choice she has made will come with many consequences, both good and bad, that must be lived with; this decision, once made, cannot be reversed. 

            There are several key moments in Cordy’s arc as a character.  Each decision she makes affects her like a plus and minus data chart—the further she progresses, she adds more compassion and subtracts a bit more superficiality.  For example, the closer she grows to her friends at Angel Investigations, the less she pursues acting.  Unfortunately, with every decision that improves her understanding as a human being, she takes one step closer to being rid of any sense of humanity entirely. 

            Toward the end of season three of Angel, it is a well-acknowledged fact that Cordy’s character has improved incredibly.  Those who knew her in Sunnydale know just how much she has improved; but even the friends who have known her only in the time she has spent in Los Angelus can admit that Chase has come a long way towards improvement.  Angel and Lorne both admit as much in Waiting in the Wings, as they observe Chase in a high-class societal situation that would’ve driven cheerleader Cordelia mad at the ridiculousness of the event.  While she’s still always got a snarky remark—that is, when she isn’t too busy sleeping and, therefore, drooling all over Angel’s lovely tux—she’s really grown into an amazing woman—a superhero, as she proudly proclaims to Angel. 

            He doesn’t need to be told twice just how strong she is.  Throughout season three, he’s trained her, strengthening her ability to fight and, as a result, definitively cuts back on her damsel in distress moments.  After the rescue mission initiated in Over the Rainbow at the end of season two, Cordelia does a significantly better job of keeping herself from falling pray to the frailty that befalls the Triple F. 

            She would’ve continued to be successful, had Skip not completely fooled her.  We see him once again in the season three finale Tomorrow, as he appears to inform Cordelia she has sacrificed and served The Powers That Be so impeccably that she is now being made a higher being.

I was suspicious of the situation from the start.  Cordelia has come a long way since her stomping ground of Sunnydale High.  But a higher being?  I don’t think she’s quite that good.  As much as I love Cordelia’s character, I feel like the requirements to become some sort of god would be at least slightly higher than this action seems to set them at.  Her relatively quick approval of this promotion also threw me a bit, as it seemed strange for someone who has always been so inherently human, even after her supposed conversion to a partially demonic state.  My confusion at this out of character moment was reaffirmed, as research for this article indicated that several other critics seemed to believe along the same lines. 

            However, regardless of the questions the decision raises, Cordy makes her choice.  This is the final nail in her coffin, as it is later revealed that Skip has been manipulating her into this course of action all along.  She was never as worthy as he made her out to be, even in her Birthday decision to keep her visions. 

            The Cordelia we see in the fourth season of Angel is not actually Cordy.  She does some horrible things, as she experiences an entire inversion of her character.  This person, though she may look like Cordy, is far from the cheerleader turned heroine that I have come to know and adore.  This made the season very difficult to watch, particularly as the writers didn’t clue the audience in on an explanation until very late.  While I knew there was obviously something extremely wrong with Chase, I did not expect it to result in her coma and subsequent write off from the show. 

            They did an excellent job redeeming her, though, as she’s temporarily sort of reawakened from her coma in season five’s You’re Welcome.  The team she is reunited with is incredibly different than the friends she parted with in season four.  They’ve now gained control of Wolfram and Hart in an attempt to kill the beast from inside the belly—a horrible plan that is progressing just as dreadfully as could’ve been anticipated.  Needless to say, Cordy is dissatisfied with a reality that now entails Spike painted as a champion and Angel as CEO of Hell, Incorporated.

            While it is amazing to see Cordelia defy her old standard as the damsel in distress as she fights right with Angel to defeat their old enemy Lindsey; that is not the most crucial progress the episode takes towards redeeming the previously soiled state of her character.  In general, it is fantastic to see the return, one which is infused with the smirking and snarky Cordelia from prior to her possession in season four, as she terrorizes the office, bantering with Spike once more, sharing one final bonding experience with Wesley over research and Gunn over his acquisition of hair. 

But it is Cordy’s ability to reconnect Angel with their shared mission and purpose in life which truly reminds me of the character she had grown into, a character I had held in such high regard.  After all, I don’t remember her for her brave acts of sacrifice or her half-demon state; and I certainly don’t remember her for her servitude as the Big Bad of season four. 

I remember Cordelia for her ability to make the world’s most depressed and brooding vampire smile, her ability to sucker a two hundred and forty year old vampire into operating a computer to manipulate him into doing her portion of the research for her.  I remember her for her ability to humanize Angel in ways that even Buffy was incapable. 

The pair, who have so long been the heart of the reason I continued to watch the show, share one final scene together.  Angel tells her he can’t do this on his own, and that he is relieved she has returned.  I knew instantly at the slight drop in her expression that, while this may appear on the surface to be the happy ending they have always deserved, they, like so many Whedon couples before them, wouldn’t achieve the fate they’ve so aptly earned.  She tells him the PTB owed her one, and that she made sure to put it to good use, to force Angel back to his proper path.  At his look of doubt, she once again reassures him that he will win this in the end, even if she can’t be there to witness it.  She’s proud of her progress, too, as she, in typical Cordy fashion, pointedly exclaims, “ oh, and, you’re welcome!” 

Confused and riddled with questions, he’s interrupted from interrogating her by the ring of the phone, a call that will inform him she never did wake up in the end.  He issues one final statement of gratitude to an empty room, not just for her return, but for all of her support, assistance and nagging in the eight long years they have known each other; one last insufficient thank you for old times.

From Bella to Katniss:  Is Cordelia a good role model?  Cordelia is bold.  She says things she shouldn’t, takes risks to save her friends that there’s no logical way she should survive, makes decisions to protect the strangers she witnesses in her visions that she shouldn’t have to make, and moves to compromise her own humanity to preserve her link to a higher purpose in life—yet another sacrifice she shouldn’t have to suffer.  Cordelia may have originated as a horrible role model, but the character she becomes by the end of her time is a fine example of what young girls need to see; this statement is, of course, meant to exclude the Cordy-that-wasn’t-really-Cordy in season four, as no one could call that character a good model.  She doesn’t toe around the conventions expected of her as a girl—she’s self-assertive, going after what she wants, no matter what or who it may be. In general, she laughs in the face of expectations, insisting to pave her own path in the process.  No one could declare Cordy as a conventional role model, but that doesn’t prohibit her ability to grow into an excellently independent one.

Role Model Rating:  9/10

From Lorelai to Wonder Woman:  Is Cordelia relatable?  Cordelia, much like several of the characters I have evaluated on this blog, manages to have a tough exterior—filled to the brim with snark and sass—while maintaining a hidden undercurrent of vulnerability which allows the character to off-set her less positive qualities to become a more well-rounded and relatable character.  If Cordelia had simply carried on as the arrogant and superficial character evident in the first season of BtVS, she would’ve been solely one-dimensional and failed to be both relatable and serve as a role model.  However, the development of the character, particularly as seen on Angel—once again excluding the dreaded and softly spoken of fourth season—allows her to grow into an excellent example of both traits.  This transformation is also a trend amongst the women I have analyzed, implying that the audience finds a character who comes from less than stellar origins and rises above their predestined path in life inherently inspirational and relatable.  In her time on BtVS, she also voices the concerns of the everyman, as she worries about who will pay for the damages done to her car by the raid of vampires.  This trait continues in her time on Angel, as she constantly questions potential clients how much they can afford to pay for their services.  In short, she serves as a bit of an audience advocate, saying the scathing remarks we wish we could say to remark on the occasional ignorance of the characters who surround her.  This honesty, though allowing the audience to generally relate to her, may isolate those who hail from the Belle side of things, and who believe women should nurture and cherish an inherent sense of tact.  But, in the words Cordelia, “tact is just not saying true stuff.  I’ll pass.”

Relatability Rating:  7/10