Eliza Dushku is best known (among Whedonites, at least) as the brooding secondary (aka "not blond") slayer in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel, as well as the super-composite Jill-of-all-trades/potential savior of mankind in the short-lived series Dollhouse. She's the tough-yet-vulnerable brunette, the queen of the one-season wonder. Between her anti-cheerleader charm, her deadly physique, and her inability to oust her Boston accent, she is a hero to low-culture lovers everywhere.
In addition to a repertoire of horror films that inevitably have the words "coeds" and "deadly game" in the description, Dushku has had numerous bit parts in more successful, conventional films and the occasional television show. If she's the feature of something, it's either a made-for-TV movie or a flop, such as 2008's woefully unsatisfying Alphabet Killer, where she plays opposite Cary Elwes, who himself seems to be working rather hard to hit bottom when it comes to a lack of discernment about projects (see also: the feel-good incest movie of the summer).
She's not a showstopper, but she's not a show-killer either; Dushku operates in a strange Bardo between the A-list and invisibility. To fill the gap, she has posed for a bevy of Maxim-type magazines, with a steady reward of spots on every list of "Sexiest Women" from here to Australia. Only time will tell if she's the poor woman's Juliette Lewis or simply the next Juliette Lewis. Either way, we at Femmebot would totally add her to our list of women-objects with ta-ta's. She's gorgeous: alto voice with a bit of a crackle to it, slim yet formidable, femme-y in wardrobe yet butch in poise. Best of all, her better-scripted performances hint at intelligence, depth, and possibly even integrity. It awakens in us a sort of simultaneous admiration and machismo: "I'd like to tap that potential." Or at least see it tapped.
In the meantime, there is 2003's Tru Calling. Femmebot is currently working its way through Season 1, in which Dushku plays opposite an agitated, possibly stoned Zach Galifianakis. The show lasted one-and-a-half seasons; apparently the "add someone from the cast of 90210" gambit of Season 2 could not save it from Fox's bloody axe.
The show's conceit dooms it from the start. Dushku, as the inexplicably named "Tru" works at a morgue, where she has to relive the occasional day in order to save the stray corpse. Get it? She has to repeat a day. Which is not at all monotonous. Each episode focuses on the mystery of Who Killed The Corpse, with heavy-handed hints and unnecessary flashbacks. In almost every show, Tru works her way through two theories before finally stumbling on to the third and correct one--and just in time! The show also deals with the lives of Tru's best friend, sister, and brother, all played by anonymously pretty blond people (possibly Canadian?) who are fairly flat and difficult to care about. On the plus side, there are endless scenes of Dushku in low-cut tops, running. Like, a lot.
Is it terrible? Well, yes. There are only so many times one can watch Dushku save a glass from dropping to the floor, lie to a man she's dating, or agitate the people she's supposed to save by stalking them and/or plying them with impossible knowledge.
Are we at Femmebot going to see it through? Of course! It pleases us to loathe most of something and worship the rest. On a related note, it turns out that Dushku is an accomplished musician and dancer; we can only hope that she gets famous enough to defile her career with some sort of over-produced, auto-tuned pop album. Fly, Icarus, fly!
In the meantime, we will pray for small graces: Please, please don't let Tru get a car.
Hah! Run, Eliza, Run!
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