Supernatural Article
Yo, All. Still offline on the in-laws tour, but making a quick flyby to post a link to an SPN article over on RevolutionSF.
Supernatural: The Best 10 Episodes
Because the piece was edited a bit, and I'm an egotist enough to like the unedited version better (even while admitting his is far more concise ... and better punctuated), there's a copy of the unedited piece under the cut (below) for anyone who wants to read it. I am, however, turning off commenting (here on my LJ) in order to re-direct traffic to the site where it is published. If you wanna take issue with my picks, feel free to do so over there. They're toying with the idea of covering Supernatural more extensively, so fan interest in their first feature on the show will no doubt encourage them to that end.
.
The Top 10 Supernatural Episodes
(Making Scary Snarktastically Awesome)
By Dodger Winslow
One of the most entertaining, morally complex and character driven series in recent memory, Supernatural is the story of the Winchester family: John (Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Watchmen); Dean (Jensen Ackles, Dark Angel and Smallville) and Sam (Jared Padalecki, House of Wax and Cry Wolf). Devastated by paranormal events that began more than 20 years ago with the demonic slaughter of Mary (wife of John, mother of Sam and Dean), the Winchesters are screaming down the Highway to Hell, classic rock cranked and the pedal to the Metallicar metal in hot pursuit of the family business: hunting things, saving people. Often described by series creator Eric Kripke as Luke Skywalker and Han Solo tooling down Route 66 in a 67 Impala (with ObiWan and The Force backseat driving the whole way, I would add); the series is funny, scary, touching, profound and entertaining as hell.
The top ten examples of that winning mix are, in descending order of full-on awesome:
Number 10: Road Kill
First and foremost, Supernatural is about family; but a good ghost story now and again sure doesn’t hurt. There are a number of episodes that play the ghost/monster/demon card to good effect, but none do it better than Road Kill. At once spooky and emotionally engaging, there’s a true sense of pathos to Molly’s (BSG’s Tricia Helfer) haunting plight, and the way the story unfolds is a tragedy well played. The twist ending isn’t quite as much of a surprise as it should be, and the script relies too heavily on a too-passive Sixth Sense "while you weren’t paying close enough attention" flashback reveal to completely satisfy; but there’s a deep emotional resonance to this episode that lingers long past the end credits, and it plays the relatively genre-unique perspective of finding the boo-hoo in a good, old-fashioned boo.
So for overall entertainment value; for playing their cards close to the vest (sans cleavage, even, for the most part); and for having the confidence to spend the full 47 minutes with two boys and a hot, dead chick to the end of creating an original character who is full-figured enough to carry her own weight in a three-way that never bores despite a laudable dearth of cheap tricks and sfx; Road Kill lays down some impressive skid marks at number ten.
(Plus, you know, Six is always going to be a 10, with or without the red dress and the platinum dome shine.)
Number 9: Hell House
Snark is the soul of Supernatural, and Hell House is the benchmark of snark. When the Winchesters go head-to-head with a couple of internet wannabe ghostbusters living the dream with their nightvision goggles, EMF meters and personal motto of WWBD? (What Would Buffy Do?); the "reality" paranormal genre takes a merciless flogging that’s as self depreciating as it is witty. Supernatural specializes in making light of themselves, and they’re in fine form as they take aim at a hoax haunting that becomes murderously real simply because, as everyone knows, when enough people see and believe something on the internet, that makes it true.
Well, okay, their paranormal proposition is a little more complicated than that, and ingeniously so. With a very simple twist on the idea of media spin creating its own reality, Hell House takes delicious aim at pop culture, the power of mass delusions, and the horror genre in general. Throw in a couple of hilariously inept geeks who are in it for the chicks (another mass delusion: chicks dig guys in nightvision goggles); a sibling prank war that includes such classics as itch-powder-in-the-jockeys and beer-bottle-meets-super-glue; and a resolution that lives by the old adage, "If all else fails, burn it down;" and you’ve got the perfect snarkfest in a show that (rightfully) prides itself on sly, witty, pop-culture-specific snark.
For creating an original geek duo who make the Lone Gunmen look cool by comparison; for being juvenile and ridiculous in a way that’s hilarious rather than Scary Movie-esque; and for finding a way to use this dialog exchange:
Dean: (standing in a moldy abandoned cellar, holding up a mason jar filled with unidentifiable gross) Hey, Sam. Dare you to take a swig of this.
Sam: What in the hell would I do that for?
Dean: (considering the mason jar for a moment) I double dare you.
Hell House throws the best frat party ever, coming in at number nine, just one frat boy ahead of the equally hilarious, skewer-Tinsel-Town snarkfest Hollywood Babylon.
Number 8: Wendigo
As much as snark and brotherly banter is the stock and trade of Supernatural, you just can’t beat an honestly evil, nasty, effective monster for a good time. From the rakshasa in Everybody Loves a Clown to the haunted painting in Provenance to the water nix in Dead in the Water to the pissed off angel-of-death in Folsom Prison Blues to the changeling anklebiters in The Kids are Alright (all excellent monster-of-the-week episodes), Supernatural does a great job of putting pan-cultural myths, legends and monsters to a unique and entertaining spin.
While it’s hard to choose just one monster-of-the-week episode as the Ms. Congeniality of this category, I’m going with Wendigo on the grounds of all-around awesomosity. A man-gone-supernatural-evil monster born of human depravity, the Native American mythology of an eternally-hungry, flesh-eating uuberhunter gives the boys a seriously bad-ass antagonist to face while riffing Hendrix-worthy with character notes that not only define both brothers as individuals, but that also forge the genesis of the brotherly bond that will sustain the show throughout its run. Again, a strong set of original characters is key to the episode’s success: Callum Keith Rennie (BSG) rocks as a should-have-listened-to-them expert who would be the save-the-day hero in any other show, and Gina Holden kicks serious po-po as an orphaned sister as fiercely determined to save her missing brother as Sam and Dean are to save one another once the Wendigo pudu hits the fan.
For having a big bad worthy of an X-Files episode; for creating some seriously entertaining pure monster action; and for living up to the potential of a script that really hangs some believable (and likeable) flesh on the structure of characters you’re only just beginning to get to know, Wendigo scares its way to number seven with enough heroic Dean and angsty Sam to set the tone for the season to come. Hell, yeah.
Number 7: Nightshifter
The most difficult choice in the whole countdown was deciding between the first (Nightshifter) and the last (Jus in Bello) episode in which the recurring character of Special Agent Victor Henricksen (Charles Malik Whitfield) appears. To be perfectly honest? In the end, it all came down to the villain.
Nightshifter revisits the shapeshifters of Skin, but does so to a much more satisfying whole. The episode is great fun from teaser to credits; it is also heartbreaking and unpredictable. Paying out on the long-term investment of the Winchester’s under-the-radar, less-than-legal activities, Sam and Dean chase their you-don’t-see-it-but-we-do monster right onto the evening news by getting tangled up in a bank robbery they didn’t start but are forced to finish. Chris Gauthier (Eureka) goes geek brilliant as a likeable conspiracy nut who’s closer to the truth than anyone will believe; and his efforts to prove his "Mandroid" theory resonate with Dean’s life-long burden of knowing the truths others ridicule. With a deftly articulated subtext of social isolation and the personal cost of unsung heroism, the dynamic between these two polar opposites - the manly version of Beauty and the Geek - gives the episode both its funniest and most touching moments.
For introducing the best cop antagonist ever; for breaking our hearts with silence over the tragedy of collateral damage; and for Ron’s Mandroid theory in all its detailed glory; Nightshifter is so totally screwed at number seven that we’ll even forgive it the transparency of that hoary, old SWAT gambit.
Number 6: Born Under a Bad Sign
Born Under a Bad Sign is the perfect mythos extravaganza. After more than a season of hints and tickles about the Special Children, Sam’s destiny and his potential to go dark side; the slot machine pays off with bells and whistles when the fair-haired boy goes black-eyed evil in a way that pulls no punches.
An acting tour de force for Jared Padalecki (in a show that - again, rightfully - worships in the Church of Jensen Ackles when it comes to payoff dramatic moments), Possessed!Sammy puts new chill to the term "Bad Boy" with the cold-blooded slaughter of a fellow hunter; the domination/assault of a little sister-esque gal pal that reeks of the potential for sexual violence; and the attempted murders of both his own brother and their surrogate father figure (Jim Beaver of Deadwood, brilliantly endearing in the recurring role of Bobby Singer, the laid-back, beer-sipping, bad-ass guru/grimoire of a favorite not-really-my-uncle everybody wishes they had.) The episode is TV 101 on how to cook up a palpable sense of dread and near-unbearable tension by toying with fan expectations of Sam-Gone-Dark-Side before serving up a seven course feast of "this is NOT his father’s Sammy" in a way that never once steps shy of allowing Luke Skywalker to go full-on Darth Vader before a gratifyingly familiar (and equally gratifyingly unexpected) evil is ousted from the unwitting hero’s unwillingly usurped meatsuit.
For Jared Padalecki’s chillingly sing-song delivery of the "My daddy shot your daddy in the he-ead" line; for never conning a con man to the end of a holy watered down Bud; and for the look on Sam’s face when Dean clocks him for asking if he missed anything; Born Under a Bad Sign seduces its way to number six with all the irresistible evil charm of a Padalecki meatsuit with a holy hell sixpack and a serious dose of we-sure-miss Meg-a-tude.
Number 5: Bad Day at Black Rock
The holy grail of funny, Bad Day at Black Rock is the episodic lovechild of Buster Keaton’s physical comedy and Morgan/Wong’s Final Destination creep factor. A lucky/unlucky rabbit’s foot sets the stage for one deadly pratfall after another in a tale of good-luck-gone-bad, setting a breakneck pace for the escalation of a dark-humor, black comedy that is as unique as it is hilarious.
With a genuine creep factor of unavoidable doom played both for laughs and scares; the genius of the smart script and riotous direction is outdone by some of the best physical acting ever put to the small screen. Padalecki and Ackles both shine like bright, lucky pennies while screenwriter Ben Edlund (The Tick) puts enough funny in their mouths (and the mouths of all the guest stars, Michael Massee of Carnivale, 24 and The Crow foremost amongst them) to qualify for Supernatural sainthood.
For establishing the cardinal rule of "Don’t touch my Jesus;" for Padalecki’s lost shoe and Ackles’s "I’m Batman;" and most of all, for Sam going Jerry Lewis spastic over the air conditioner fire he started on his own arm; Bad Day at Black Rock slapsticks itself to a Final Destination at number five, with a bullet. Lady Luck, she is a bee-yatch.
Number 4: The Benders
Perhaps the quintessential Supernatural episode, The Benders is the essence of everything the show claims as home field advantage. An effective turn on the classic story The Most Dangerous Game, it banjo-picks its way to a pig-squealingly good time that is part Deliverance and part … well … Supernatural. With his brother snatched by Ned Beatty’s worst nightmare, Dean is under the gun to find him before a skin-crawlingly effective John Dennis Johnston (the most villain-identifiable character actor in TV history) carves Sammy to a tasty rump roast in a kitchen that would make James Garner a confirmed vegetarian. Jessica Steen (Earth 2) takes a gold medal turn as the local law enforcement in a wonderfully-crafted script filmed to a full-on creepfest, playing the I-Will-Save-My-Brother Game to a dangerously satisfying end by reveling in the pure ick factor of everything they don’t have to show simply because we’ve already seen Deliverance, and that kind of thing sticks with you for a lifetime.
For handcuffing Dean to a squad car; for thirteen-year-old Missy whose ten-plus freak factor makes Pa Bender look quasi-normal; and for Deputy Kathleen Hudak for the win; The Benders carves out a tasty spot at number four, salted to taste because "Demons I get, but people are just crazy."
Number 3: Faith
If The Benders is the gold standard of creep (and it is because I say it is), then Faith is the rest of the story, all tied up in one pretty, angsty package. This episode, more than any other, captures the essence of family and the moral complexity of the war between good and evil that defines the show’s intellectual and emotional core. Mortally wounded on a hunt, Dean gets a good trade-in on a second chance from a faith healer who’s killing Peter to save Paul (or killing Marshall to save Dean, as the case may be). Hand picked by the unsuspecting healer’s holier-than-thou wife for meeting her criteria as a sinner (gay, a pro choice activist, being a general pain-in-the-ass in the church foyer), the unwilling life donors get their stuff sucked by an equally unwilling Reaper-on-a-leash to the end of making that faith healer one popular guy, and Dean one unhappy beneficiary of an innocent man’s murder.
The moral complexities of this episode run deep and defy simplistic resolution. Epitomizing the show’s oft-visited theme of the attrition of innocents as collateral damage in a war between good and evil, Layla (Julie Benz of Dexter, Buffy and Angel) breathes life and soul into the heartbreaking penalty clause for doing the right thing.
For crafting a complex morality tale with profound emotional and spiritual depth; for treating the God issue with both class and respect; for creating a dynamic where evil comes out of the intent to do good and a man who believes himself doing God’s work is turned, through no fault of his own, to doing something else altogether; and for an incredibly smart script that never once preaches to, condescends to, or otherwise presumes to dictate terms to its audience; Faith rewards the true believer in smart genre television by resurrecting perfection at number three.
And while this episode takes the short box on the final medal podium? If you’re going to go all-in on a single bet, put your money to the felt here. As a stand-alone representative of everything Supernatural can be, and often is; Faith owns the category, hands down.
Number 2: Dead Man’s Blood/Salvation/Devil’s Trap
No, I’m not cheating. This three-episode arc is, in actuality, a single three-part episode that must be considered as a whole to be afforded its proper due. This is the Supernatural mythos trifecta; and nowhere on TV is the theme of family more effectively, profoundly or complexly handled than in this singular storyline that reunites the Winchesters as they prepare to, at long last, engage the yellow-eyed demon (YED) who murdered Mary.
Working together again after almost a year apart, the Winchesters acquire (read: steal from vampires) a legendary, mystical weapon that can kill anything, including demons. As they prepare to declare war on their heretofore undefeatable nemesis, the YED one-ups them by embarking on a wholesale, systematic slaughter of everyone the Winchesters care about to force the surrender of this ultimate weapon. While John buys time by playing chicken with demons in the bluff-to-end-all-bluffs, Sam and Dean take their shot at the Big Bad to less-than-successful results. The final confrontation between a YED-possessed John and his sons culminates in a chance to kill the demon, but only at the cost of John’s life. As sons occasionally do, Sammy fails to shoot his dad in the heart even on demand, and the YED escapes to fight another day.
That’s what happens, but what it’s about is family. Pure and simple: family. Brothers, sons and fathers. Loyalty and love; children growing up and fathers allowing them to grow up. Self identity and self worth and healing old wounds and renewing the bonds of family that run deeper than the simple sharing of genetic material.
At its very core, this episodic arc defines Supernatural. Yes, there are monsters: evil and demons and vampires, oh my. And yes, it’s atmospheric and creepy and scary and entertaining. But on its most fundamental level, this arc is about a father and son bonding over the cracking of a college fund to buy ammunition. It’s about bluffing with a handful of twos and threes because you can’t let one more friend die to pay the rent on a war it’s your destiny, not theirs, to fight. It’s about overcoming the impossible to save your child, and about refusing to do the obvious to save your father.
And it’s about Eric Kripke trying to kill an entire viewing audience with the most shocking final minute you’ll never see coming but will have to live with for a seemingly endless hiatus before you know who lives and who dies, and how.
So for John; and for Dean; and for Sammy; Dead Man’s Blood/Salvation/Devil’s Trap comes to a metal-rending, glass-shattering, heart-stopping silence at number two. And for Demon!John’s (also Jeffrey Dean Morgan, in a stunningly effective flip of the character card from the King of Pain to the Ace of Dark) artfully wicked meatsuit dialog, too. Because never, in the history of forever, has one yellow-eyed villain so utterly stolen the show by waxing fiendishly poetic while wearing the meatsuit of a damaged, broken, ferocious father who would trade his soul to save the sons he loves.
And Number 1: In My Time of Dying
Talk about trading your soul …
There is no other choice for the number one Supernatural episode than In My Time of Dying. The impending-sense-of-doom, hold-your-breath resolution to the Dead Man’s Blood/Salvation/Devil’s Trap arc; this episode is a master’s class in how to break (in a good way) every viewer you own, heart and soul. Tragic and profound and as rich with family love as it is with family dysfunction, In My Time of Dying is the one episode no fan wants to see, but every fan must watch.
Even while it leaves the series mythos intact for future evolution; it closes the book on perhaps the most important chapter that mythos will ever write: the book of John. As the patriarch of the Winchester family, John Winchester is a force of nature. Flawed, tragic and complex, he is both an avenging archangel and a ferociously protective father who will do anything, sacrifice anything, to save his sons.
And he does, in an episode that pays out like the lotto on the viewer’s emotional investment in every character and every inter-character dynamic. Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Jared Padalecki both shine like beacons in the dark in their respective roles; but it is Jensen Ackles, in particular, who carries this episode like a divine curse. His consistent portrayal of Dean as the shattered heart and tragic soul of the Winchester family is not only infinitely layered and sublimely subtle, it is unflinchingly real in a way that confounds the small screen’s capacity to constrain it to a two-dimensional surface.
There is no greater praise to offer this episode than to say In My Time of Dying - in story, in performances, in emotional pay-off - lives up to the legend John Winchester is portrayed to be. And in doing so, it passes the torch from father to sons, creating a deep and profound legacy that is, for the Winchesters, the family business. Hunting things, saving people: that’s what it’s all about.
Well … that and snark.
Remember: If you want to comment, please do so over at RevolutionsSF. Thanks.
Supernatural: The Best 10 Episodes
Because the piece was edited a bit, and I'm an egotist enough to like the unedited version better (even while admitting his is far more concise ... and better punctuated), there's a copy of the unedited piece under the cut (below) for anyone who wants to read it. I am, however, turning off commenting (here on my LJ) in order to re-direct traffic to the site where it is published. If you wanna take issue with my picks, feel free to do so over there. They're toying with the idea of covering Supernatural more extensively, so fan interest in their first feature on the show will no doubt encourage them to that end.
.
The Top 10 Supernatural Episodes
(Making Scary Snarktastically Awesome)
By Dodger Winslow
One of the most entertaining, morally complex and character driven series in recent memory, Supernatural is the story of the Winchester family: John (Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Watchmen); Dean (Jensen Ackles, Dark Angel and Smallville) and Sam (Jared Padalecki, House of Wax and Cry Wolf). Devastated by paranormal events that began more than 20 years ago with the demonic slaughter of Mary (wife of John, mother of Sam and Dean), the Winchesters are screaming down the Highway to Hell, classic rock cranked and the pedal to the Metallicar metal in hot pursuit of the family business: hunting things, saving people. Often described by series creator Eric Kripke as Luke Skywalker and Han Solo tooling down Route 66 in a 67 Impala (with ObiWan and The Force backseat driving the whole way, I would add); the series is funny, scary, touching, profound and entertaining as hell.
The top ten examples of that winning mix are, in descending order of full-on awesome:
Number 10: Road Kill
First and foremost, Supernatural is about family; but a good ghost story now and again sure doesn’t hurt. There are a number of episodes that play the ghost/monster/demon card to good effect, but none do it better than Road Kill. At once spooky and emotionally engaging, there’s a true sense of pathos to Molly’s (BSG’s Tricia Helfer) haunting plight, and the way the story unfolds is a tragedy well played. The twist ending isn’t quite as much of a surprise as it should be, and the script relies too heavily on a too-passive Sixth Sense "while you weren’t paying close enough attention" flashback reveal to completely satisfy; but there’s a deep emotional resonance to this episode that lingers long past the end credits, and it plays the relatively genre-unique perspective of finding the boo-hoo in a good, old-fashioned boo.
So for overall entertainment value; for playing their cards close to the vest (sans cleavage, even, for the most part); and for having the confidence to spend the full 47 minutes with two boys and a hot, dead chick to the end of creating an original character who is full-figured enough to carry her own weight in a three-way that never bores despite a laudable dearth of cheap tricks and sfx; Road Kill lays down some impressive skid marks at number ten.
(Plus, you know, Six is always going to be a 10, with or without the red dress and the platinum dome shine.)
Number 9: Hell House
Snark is the soul of Supernatural, and Hell House is the benchmark of snark. When the Winchesters go head-to-head with a couple of internet wannabe ghostbusters living the dream with their nightvision goggles, EMF meters and personal motto of WWBD? (What Would Buffy Do?); the "reality" paranormal genre takes a merciless flogging that’s as self depreciating as it is witty. Supernatural specializes in making light of themselves, and they’re in fine form as they take aim at a hoax haunting that becomes murderously real simply because, as everyone knows, when enough people see and believe something on the internet, that makes it true.
Well, okay, their paranormal proposition is a little more complicated than that, and ingeniously so. With a very simple twist on the idea of media spin creating its own reality, Hell House takes delicious aim at pop culture, the power of mass delusions, and the horror genre in general. Throw in a couple of hilariously inept geeks who are in it for the chicks (another mass delusion: chicks dig guys in nightvision goggles); a sibling prank war that includes such classics as itch-powder-in-the-jockeys and beer-bottle-meets-super-glue; and a resolution that lives by the old adage, "If all else fails, burn it down;" and you’ve got the perfect snarkfest in a show that (rightfully) prides itself on sly, witty, pop-culture-specific snark.
For creating an original geek duo who make the Lone Gunmen look cool by comparison; for being juvenile and ridiculous in a way that’s hilarious rather than Scary Movie-esque; and for finding a way to use this dialog exchange:
Dean: (standing in a moldy abandoned cellar, holding up a mason jar filled with unidentifiable gross) Hey, Sam. Dare you to take a swig of this.
Sam: What in the hell would I do that for?
Dean: (considering the mason jar for a moment) I double dare you.
Hell House throws the best frat party ever, coming in at number nine, just one frat boy ahead of the equally hilarious, skewer-Tinsel-Town snarkfest Hollywood Babylon.
Number 8: Wendigo
As much as snark and brotherly banter is the stock and trade of Supernatural, you just can’t beat an honestly evil, nasty, effective monster for a good time. From the rakshasa in Everybody Loves a Clown to the haunted painting in Provenance to the water nix in Dead in the Water to the pissed off angel-of-death in Folsom Prison Blues to the changeling anklebiters in The Kids are Alright (all excellent monster-of-the-week episodes), Supernatural does a great job of putting pan-cultural myths, legends and monsters to a unique and entertaining spin.
While it’s hard to choose just one monster-of-the-week episode as the Ms. Congeniality of this category, I’m going with Wendigo on the grounds of all-around awesomosity. A man-gone-supernatural-evil monster born of human depravity, the Native American mythology of an eternally-hungry, flesh-eating uuberhunter gives the boys a seriously bad-ass antagonist to face while riffing Hendrix-worthy with character notes that not only define both brothers as individuals, but that also forge the genesis of the brotherly bond that will sustain the show throughout its run. Again, a strong set of original characters is key to the episode’s success: Callum Keith Rennie (BSG) rocks as a should-have-listened-to-them expert who would be the save-the-day hero in any other show, and Gina Holden kicks serious po-po as an orphaned sister as fiercely determined to save her missing brother as Sam and Dean are to save one another once the Wendigo pudu hits the fan.
For having a big bad worthy of an X-Files episode; for creating some seriously entertaining pure monster action; and for living up to the potential of a script that really hangs some believable (and likeable) flesh on the structure of characters you’re only just beginning to get to know, Wendigo scares its way to number seven with enough heroic Dean and angsty Sam to set the tone for the season to come. Hell, yeah.
Number 7: Nightshifter
The most difficult choice in the whole countdown was deciding between the first (Nightshifter) and the last (Jus in Bello) episode in which the recurring character of Special Agent Victor Henricksen (Charles Malik Whitfield) appears. To be perfectly honest? In the end, it all came down to the villain.
Nightshifter revisits the shapeshifters of Skin, but does so to a much more satisfying whole. The episode is great fun from teaser to credits; it is also heartbreaking and unpredictable. Paying out on the long-term investment of the Winchester’s under-the-radar, less-than-legal activities, Sam and Dean chase their you-don’t-see-it-but-we-do monster right onto the evening news by getting tangled up in a bank robbery they didn’t start but are forced to finish. Chris Gauthier (Eureka) goes geek brilliant as a likeable conspiracy nut who’s closer to the truth than anyone will believe; and his efforts to prove his "Mandroid" theory resonate with Dean’s life-long burden of knowing the truths others ridicule. With a deftly articulated subtext of social isolation and the personal cost of unsung heroism, the dynamic between these two polar opposites - the manly version of Beauty and the Geek - gives the episode both its funniest and most touching moments.
For introducing the best cop antagonist ever; for breaking our hearts with silence over the tragedy of collateral damage; and for Ron’s Mandroid theory in all its detailed glory; Nightshifter is so totally screwed at number seven that we’ll even forgive it the transparency of that hoary, old SWAT gambit.
Number 6: Born Under a Bad Sign
Born Under a Bad Sign is the perfect mythos extravaganza. After more than a season of hints and tickles about the Special Children, Sam’s destiny and his potential to go dark side; the slot machine pays off with bells and whistles when the fair-haired boy goes black-eyed evil in a way that pulls no punches.
An acting tour de force for Jared Padalecki (in a show that - again, rightfully - worships in the Church of Jensen Ackles when it comes to payoff dramatic moments), Possessed!Sammy puts new chill to the term "Bad Boy" with the cold-blooded slaughter of a fellow hunter; the domination/assault of a little sister-esque gal pal that reeks of the potential for sexual violence; and the attempted murders of both his own brother and their surrogate father figure (Jim Beaver of Deadwood, brilliantly endearing in the recurring role of Bobby Singer, the laid-back, beer-sipping, bad-ass guru/grimoire of a favorite not-really-my-uncle everybody wishes they had.) The episode is TV 101 on how to cook up a palpable sense of dread and near-unbearable tension by toying with fan expectations of Sam-Gone-Dark-Side before serving up a seven course feast of "this is NOT his father’s Sammy" in a way that never once steps shy of allowing Luke Skywalker to go full-on Darth Vader before a gratifyingly familiar (and equally gratifyingly unexpected) evil is ousted from the unwitting hero’s unwillingly usurped meatsuit.
For Jared Padalecki’s chillingly sing-song delivery of the "My daddy shot your daddy in the he-ead" line; for never conning a con man to the end of a holy watered down Bud; and for the look on Sam’s face when Dean clocks him for asking if he missed anything; Born Under a Bad Sign seduces its way to number six with all the irresistible evil charm of a Padalecki meatsuit with a holy hell sixpack and a serious dose of we-sure-miss Meg-a-tude.
Number 5: Bad Day at Black Rock
The holy grail of funny, Bad Day at Black Rock is the episodic lovechild of Buster Keaton’s physical comedy and Morgan/Wong’s Final Destination creep factor. A lucky/unlucky rabbit’s foot sets the stage for one deadly pratfall after another in a tale of good-luck-gone-bad, setting a breakneck pace for the escalation of a dark-humor, black comedy that is as unique as it is hilarious.
With a genuine creep factor of unavoidable doom played both for laughs and scares; the genius of the smart script and riotous direction is outdone by some of the best physical acting ever put to the small screen. Padalecki and Ackles both shine like bright, lucky pennies while screenwriter Ben Edlund (The Tick) puts enough funny in their mouths (and the mouths of all the guest stars, Michael Massee of Carnivale, 24 and The Crow foremost amongst them) to qualify for Supernatural sainthood.
For establishing the cardinal rule of "Don’t touch my Jesus;" for Padalecki’s lost shoe and Ackles’s "I’m Batman;" and most of all, for Sam going Jerry Lewis spastic over the air conditioner fire he started on his own arm; Bad Day at Black Rock slapsticks itself to a Final Destination at number five, with a bullet. Lady Luck, she is a bee-yatch.
Number 4: The Benders
Perhaps the quintessential Supernatural episode, The Benders is the essence of everything the show claims as home field advantage. An effective turn on the classic story The Most Dangerous Game, it banjo-picks its way to a pig-squealingly good time that is part Deliverance and part … well … Supernatural. With his brother snatched by Ned Beatty’s worst nightmare, Dean is under the gun to find him before a skin-crawlingly effective John Dennis Johnston (the most villain-identifiable character actor in TV history) carves Sammy to a tasty rump roast in a kitchen that would make James Garner a confirmed vegetarian. Jessica Steen (Earth 2) takes a gold medal turn as the local law enforcement in a wonderfully-crafted script filmed to a full-on creepfest, playing the I-Will-Save-My-Brother Game to a dangerously satisfying end by reveling in the pure ick factor of everything they don’t have to show simply because we’ve already seen Deliverance, and that kind of thing sticks with you for a lifetime.
For handcuffing Dean to a squad car; for thirteen-year-old Missy whose ten-plus freak factor makes Pa Bender look quasi-normal; and for Deputy Kathleen Hudak for the win; The Benders carves out a tasty spot at number four, salted to taste because "Demons I get, but people are just crazy."
Number 3: Faith
If The Benders is the gold standard of creep (and it is because I say it is), then Faith is the rest of the story, all tied up in one pretty, angsty package. This episode, more than any other, captures the essence of family and the moral complexity of the war between good and evil that defines the show’s intellectual and emotional core. Mortally wounded on a hunt, Dean gets a good trade-in on a second chance from a faith healer who’s killing Peter to save Paul (or killing Marshall to save Dean, as the case may be). Hand picked by the unsuspecting healer’s holier-than-thou wife for meeting her criteria as a sinner (gay, a pro choice activist, being a general pain-in-the-ass in the church foyer), the unwilling life donors get their stuff sucked by an equally unwilling Reaper-on-a-leash to the end of making that faith healer one popular guy, and Dean one unhappy beneficiary of an innocent man’s murder.
The moral complexities of this episode run deep and defy simplistic resolution. Epitomizing the show’s oft-visited theme of the attrition of innocents as collateral damage in a war between good and evil, Layla (Julie Benz of Dexter, Buffy and Angel) breathes life and soul into the heartbreaking penalty clause for doing the right thing.
For crafting a complex morality tale with profound emotional and spiritual depth; for treating the God issue with both class and respect; for creating a dynamic where evil comes out of the intent to do good and a man who believes himself doing God’s work is turned, through no fault of his own, to doing something else altogether; and for an incredibly smart script that never once preaches to, condescends to, or otherwise presumes to dictate terms to its audience; Faith rewards the true believer in smart genre television by resurrecting perfection at number three.
And while this episode takes the short box on the final medal podium? If you’re going to go all-in on a single bet, put your money to the felt here. As a stand-alone representative of everything Supernatural can be, and often is; Faith owns the category, hands down.
Number 2: Dead Man’s Blood/Salvation/Devil’s Trap
No, I’m not cheating. This three-episode arc is, in actuality, a single three-part episode that must be considered as a whole to be afforded its proper due. This is the Supernatural mythos trifecta; and nowhere on TV is the theme of family more effectively, profoundly or complexly handled than in this singular storyline that reunites the Winchesters as they prepare to, at long last, engage the yellow-eyed demon (YED) who murdered Mary.
Working together again after almost a year apart, the Winchesters acquire (read: steal from vampires) a legendary, mystical weapon that can kill anything, including demons. As they prepare to declare war on their heretofore undefeatable nemesis, the YED one-ups them by embarking on a wholesale, systematic slaughter of everyone the Winchesters care about to force the surrender of this ultimate weapon. While John buys time by playing chicken with demons in the bluff-to-end-all-bluffs, Sam and Dean take their shot at the Big Bad to less-than-successful results. The final confrontation between a YED-possessed John and his sons culminates in a chance to kill the demon, but only at the cost of John’s life. As sons occasionally do, Sammy fails to shoot his dad in the heart even on demand, and the YED escapes to fight another day.
That’s what happens, but what it’s about is family. Pure and simple: family. Brothers, sons and fathers. Loyalty and love; children growing up and fathers allowing them to grow up. Self identity and self worth and healing old wounds and renewing the bonds of family that run deeper than the simple sharing of genetic material.
At its very core, this episodic arc defines Supernatural. Yes, there are monsters: evil and demons and vampires, oh my. And yes, it’s atmospheric and creepy and scary and entertaining. But on its most fundamental level, this arc is about a father and son bonding over the cracking of a college fund to buy ammunition. It’s about bluffing with a handful of twos and threes because you can’t let one more friend die to pay the rent on a war it’s your destiny, not theirs, to fight. It’s about overcoming the impossible to save your child, and about refusing to do the obvious to save your father.
And it’s about Eric Kripke trying to kill an entire viewing audience with the most shocking final minute you’ll never see coming but will have to live with for a seemingly endless hiatus before you know who lives and who dies, and how.
So for John; and for Dean; and for Sammy; Dead Man’s Blood/Salvation/Devil’s Trap comes to a metal-rending, glass-shattering, heart-stopping silence at number two. And for Demon!John’s (also Jeffrey Dean Morgan, in a stunningly effective flip of the character card from the King of Pain to the Ace of Dark) artfully wicked meatsuit dialog, too. Because never, in the history of forever, has one yellow-eyed villain so utterly stolen the show by waxing fiendishly poetic while wearing the meatsuit of a damaged, broken, ferocious father who would trade his soul to save the sons he loves.
And Number 1: In My Time of Dying
Talk about trading your soul …
There is no other choice for the number one Supernatural episode than In My Time of Dying. The impending-sense-of-doom, hold-your-breath resolution to the Dead Man’s Blood/Salvation/Devil’s Trap arc; this episode is a master’s class in how to break (in a good way) every viewer you own, heart and soul. Tragic and profound and as rich with family love as it is with family dysfunction, In My Time of Dying is the one episode no fan wants to see, but every fan must watch.
Even while it leaves the series mythos intact for future evolution; it closes the book on perhaps the most important chapter that mythos will ever write: the book of John. As the patriarch of the Winchester family, John Winchester is a force of nature. Flawed, tragic and complex, he is both an avenging archangel and a ferociously protective father who will do anything, sacrifice anything, to save his sons.
And he does, in an episode that pays out like the lotto on the viewer’s emotional investment in every character and every inter-character dynamic. Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Jared Padalecki both shine like beacons in the dark in their respective roles; but it is Jensen Ackles, in particular, who carries this episode like a divine curse. His consistent portrayal of Dean as the shattered heart and tragic soul of the Winchester family is not only infinitely layered and sublimely subtle, it is unflinchingly real in a way that confounds the small screen’s capacity to constrain it to a two-dimensional surface.
There is no greater praise to offer this episode than to say In My Time of Dying - in story, in performances, in emotional pay-off - lives up to the legend John Winchester is portrayed to be. And in doing so, it passes the torch from father to sons, creating a deep and profound legacy that is, for the Winchesters, the family business. Hunting things, saving people: that’s what it’s all about.
Well … that and snark.
Remember: If you want to comment, please do so over at RevolutionsSF. Thanks.