Angel: Billy (3.6)

Billy Blim is an even more disturbing antagonist because he's on this specific show. Buffy and Angel are such strongly feminist series with richly-drawn, powerful and badass female characters at their heart -- so the arrival of a character who despises the idea of a woman having strength creates something so abrasive and chilling, going against everything the Whedonverse has promoted. With that in mind, the sight of a beaten and bruised Lilah is truly horrible, while Billy's pathological madness feels so real.

Billy is arguably a feminist story, all about women taking back the strength that is threatened by this monster who seeks to remove it. It also marks the greatest depiction of Cordelia's growth over the years, not only as a physical threat (watch her resourcefulness here versus the spatula comedy of the Buffy episode Homecoming), but as a fully-formed adult with a conscience. The first thing she thinks of after discovering Billy's existence is how she may be somewhat responsible for his release. Of course, that isn't the case at all, but it's Cordy putting the possible harm of others ahead of anything else. She strikes out by herself, risking her life and determined to take Billy down. It's a gorgeous script for Charisma Carpenter, who has some incredible banter with Lilah as well as moments of real heroism.

But the most affective element of this episode is those sequences with Wesley and Fred. The script manages to turn the gorgeous architecture of the Hyperion into a Shining-style house of horrors, where floors are susceptible to spontaneous collapse, doors are cut down like butter and beds are only seen as something to hide under. Wesley's dialogue here is intently cruel, especially the rape allusions and his anger that Fred dares to wear outfits that show skin. It's Wesley infected by the worst type of man, somebody who believes that women hold all the cards and deserve to be 'taken down a notch' by the suppressed he-men with latent rage and a hunger for violence.

But the real horror feels like it only arrives when the spell is broken, and Wesley has to deal with the consequences. What makes the story so powerful is that it isn't Fred who's particularly broken up about it, it's Wesley's feelings of abject guilt over what he did that creates the angst. The idea of having so much horror consume you (and the possibility that it was a spell that only exaggerated feelings that were already there) is terrifying, and Alexis Denisof sells it so well in that final scene in his apartment.

Billy is a remarkably ambitious episode which uses each member of the cast wonderfully. It's harsh and painful and deals with ideas which feel so much darker than anything previously depicted in the Buffyverse, and is all the better for it. Some series-best work from Charisma and Alexis, who add so much depth to their already multi-faceted characters. A+

Credits
Guest stars Stephanie Romanov (Lilah Morgan); Daniel Dae Kim (Gavin Parks); Justin Shilton (Billy Blim)
Writers Tim Minear, Jeffrey Bell Director David Grossman