Jane Espenson, editor for this essay collection, is a princess within the Whedonverse and has contributed mightily to all of Joss's key ventures, from Buffy the Vampire Slayer - The Complete Series (Seasons 1-7) to Firefly - The Complete Series, and has worked on companion books similar to "Inside Joss Dollhouse" for the Smart Pop series. I think her work on Finding Serenity: Anti-heroes, Lost Shepherds And Space Hookers In Joss Whedon's Firefly (Smart Pop Series) is especially commendable.
"Inside," less so. It's not a bad book, and some of the essays are appropriately provocative, but the overall sense I was left with is that the work was hurried, unpolished, even unfinished. That there were good ideas here that lacked the maturity of ripe development. But on further thought, that state of affairs seems to describe the series (Dollhouse: Season One and Dollhouse: The Complete Second Season) the essays are about as well. Dollhouse didn't catch fire until well into the first season, faltered a little at the beginning of the second season, and then became something truly compelling. It accomplished this by becoming more like some of Whedon's previous works in which a tightly allied group of misfits form a sort of family to take on the Big Bad, the Powers That Be, or the Reavers. It's a formula that works very well for Whedon, mostly because it never feels like a formula. The greatest freshness he achieves, the greatest character-driven plot momentum, comes out of those relationships among the heroic band, and it never gets tired.
But in the case of "Dollhouse," it did get hurried. Knowing that he only had one more season (at most) to finish his arc and complete some sense of story on "Dollhouse," all elements were rushed, double-crosses came at blinding speed, revelations happened at a breathtaking space, and the apocalypse itself was distilled to a barely credible essence. Firefly, with only a handful of TV episodes (and the film Serenity to bring a little closure to the arc) never felt hurried as Dollhouse did, because its cancellation came before a quick ending could be produced.
Because so much in terms of theme development, Whedon's trademark philosophical depth, character development, and storyline complexity were sacrificed on an altar of closure, the essays in this book will naturally lack the depth of the books on more fully-realized series. And this lack of depth is also reflected in the sort of people who have written the essays. This is not the group of pundits, scholars, philosophers and psychologists who have weighed in on other Whedon works, but a more rag-tag group of intelligent but less experienced writers. With a less solid foundation from which to work, some essays pick up a speculative wobble and come near toppling into nonsense.
Yet I'm glad to have read the book. Whedon is one of few pop culture producers who actually rewards deeper contemplation. He seeks first to engage and entertain, and usually succeeds spectacularly. But beyond entertainment, he has a vision of humanity that many of us find compelling. In the face of tragedy and absurdity, we can be heroes if we are loyal, choose good allies, and maintain a sense of purpose. This comes through even in the truncated Dollhouse series, and receives some appropriate celebration in "Inside Joss' Dollhouse."