Things I Love About SPN Season 1: The Pilot (Part 2).

May 28, 2020 02:31

Continued from Part 1

Warnings: Image heavy post. Also, contains brief discussion of mental health, incest and familial abuse themes.

Magical Realism

When we next see Sam and Dean they’re filling up the car and getting ‘breakfast’ and we get some exposition that establishes how the Winchesters fund their hunting activities. One of the things I loved about the first season was that it took the time to establish the ground rules and show that they were plausible: the brothers had time to hunt because they lived off credit card fraud and gambling (Bloody Mary, The Benders), the various ‘costumes’ they wore for their investigations were sourced from hire shops, and their fake ID badges painstakingly forged at Copy Jack (Phantom Traveller).






In the next scene, the brothers pose as Marshalls to get information out of a local deputy, but first we see him talking to a colleague, whom we learn is the father of the victim’s girlfriend.




This is another thing that lends authenticity to the stories in the first season: while the subject matter of the cases may be bizarre, they are always firmly grounded in the daily lives of ordinary Americans.

Literary Doubling




We all love it when Sam and Dean talk at the same time. In this scene it’s just one of a number of gestures that establish the sibling rivalry that exists between them, whilst unconsciously revealing the undeniable harmony that underlies it. But it’s also a recurring motif that may serve as a reminder that, on a symbolic level, Sam and Dean are the same person. In later seasons they often both use aliases derived from the first and last name of the same musician, a theme that may have the same symbolic intent.

The Bridge
Have you ever noticed how many of the most memorable scenes in Supernatural take place on or close to bridges? Bridges are one of those ‘liminal spaces’ that only exist to facilitate movement from one place to another. In film, they signal a moment of major transition in the storyline:

Rarely does a movie character just cross a bridge to get to the other side. Instead, the passage over a
bridge often signifies some kind of change-a transition into a new phase of life, connection with a new
person, or confrontation with danger or even death. https://historicbridgefoundation.com/bridges-in-film/

This scene takes place at a ‘bridge’ in the storyline; that moment, in the middle of investigating the case, where the brothers take a time out to talk about their feelings (aka the BM or Brother Melodrama moment :P)





It’s interesting that, in later seasons, Sam seems to be generally associated with openness and the desire to talk about feelings while Dean is thought of as repressed and uncommunicative. But in the early seasons, like the yin and yang, the brothers tended to alternate in those roles. In season one, Dean was the one who most often insisted “we’re going to have to talk about this” while Sam was the reticent one, withholding his past from Jessica and, later, his visions from Dean. In this scene,  Dean is the one advocating the need for honesty in a healthy relationships [and, of course, we later find that he did try to be honest with the one woman with whom he’d attempted a close relationship (Route 666).] In this scene, he outright accuses Sam of denial:

DEAN
Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?
SAM steps closer.
SAM
No, and she's not ever going to know.
DEAN
Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later
you're going to have to face up to who you really are.
DEAN turns around and keeps walking. SAM follows.
SAM
And who's that?
DEAN
You're one of us.
SAM hurries to get in front of DEAN.
SAM
No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.
DEAN
You have a responsibility to-
SAM
To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like.
And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her,
Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.

http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/1.01_Pilot_(transcript)

At the literal level, Supernatural realistically employs psychological models of family dynamics: Dean and Sam are just typical examples of the older brother who defines himself by obedience to a parental authority vs the younger brother who defines himself through rebellion. But, on a metaphorical level, this can be seen as the dramatization of an argument actually taking place inside Sam; the young adult who wants his freedom and independence vs the inner child who secretly still desires parental approval. Dean simultaneously represents the inner child, and the external expression of the father’s authority that demands Sam accept family responsibility.

In terms of the hero myth and Jungian psychology, this scene explicitly represents the confrontation with the shadow. The hero is challenged to face his dark ‘other’ and recognize it as a part of his Self.

It’s a confrontation with a violent conclusion:




This is a crucial shot establishing status. It confirms Dean in the dominant role in the relationship. However, during the course of the season we’ll see the status quo challenged until, in the penultimate episode, a companion shot reveals a moment of role reversal:



(Salvation)

The trope of role reversal is one that will be repeated many times in the show. It is in the nature of the yin/yang dynamic that, when each reaches its point of maximum expansion, it already has a germ of the other within it:




Of course, these scenes are also excellent fodder for Wincest fanfiction ;)

The “Homoerotic subtext of Supernatural.”
Kripke has been publicly coy about the elements of the show that, in his season 5 script “The Real Ghostbusters”, he jokingly refers to as the “Homoerotic subtext of Supernatural.” Sera Gamble liked to refer to the first five seasons as “the epic love story of Sam and Dean” but claimed she did it to tease Eric. However, the show was originally conceived as a gothic horror story, a genre that specifically explores the darkest aspects of the human psyche. As experts in the genre, both Kripke and episode director, David Nutter, would have been well aware of its longstanding incestuous tradition - Flowers in the Attic being a famous example - and its use of violence as a sublimation for sex. (The scene in season 3 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, where Angel drinks Buffy’s blood, is more of a consummation of their relationship than the actual sex scene that takes place in season 2.) So, I find it unlikely that these scenes were included ingenuously. I suspect Kripke’s (and subsequent showrunners’) coyness may have been a tool for staying out of trouble with the network and its more conservative sponsors. When he originally created the show, he may not have expected his horror story to wind up on prime-time TV under a TV-14 rating.

Even if an unresolved sexual tension wasn’t an original intention of these scenes, once the show became aware of the popularity of Wincest fanfiction it certainly ran with the trope, from the occasions when Sam and Dean are mistaken for a gay couple to the snide comments made by antagonists. Even at the primary textual level, incest is a developing theme on the show that also speaks to the theme of familial abuse, from Dean’s barb in “The Benders” that “it isn’t nice to marry your sister” to the serious implication in “Time is On My Side” that Bela was sexually abused by her father, to the children who were the product of incestuous rape in “Family Remains”. I’d therefore like to take unrequited “Wincest” feelings seriously as an interpretive possibility, both in how it might relate to the show’s metaphorical themes and in how it might speak to character and motivation. It seems to me that a covert desire for Sam might provide an explanation for Dean’s persistent self-hatred and extreme life-choices that the show’s overt text has never wholly supplied.

Supernatural as literary metaphor (2)
Back to the pilot, and after the bridge scene, Sam and Dean book into a motel where we get our first glimpse of John’s room, and his research process.




Back when I was writing the first episode of my SPN AU serial, I noticed that my plotting method very much followed the same process that Sam and Dean followed as they investigated their first case together. I simply asked myself, what were the steps they needed to follow in order to pursue the solution to the mystery, then I wrote the story of those steps. The investigation device lends itself readily as a parallel to the writing process. On the show, Sam and Dean’s case research mirrors the research the writers would have done for the episode. In the early seasons quite a bit of that research found its way into the script in the form of, what Martin from “Hollywood Babylon” would have called, wackadoo exposition. His decision to cut most of it was mirrored by show policy in later seasons, but I lament the loss of those early insights into occult lore. Personally, I used to find all that “wackadoo exposition” fascinating and entertaining.



(“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things” s2:04)

But the parallel between case investigations and the writing process really came home to me whilst watching DVD features where we were shown glimpses of the storyboards in production and writers’ rooms. And they looked just like John’s motel room. (Except for the bed.)

I really love the minute attention to detail in the dressing of John’s wall. Every element would become vitally important as the series progressed even though, when watching it for the first time, viewers had no idea of the significance at the time. Note, for example, the pentacle on the wall above the bedstead.




The camera skims casually over items that show John has been researching demons. A heading on sirens, witches and the possessed also foreshadows fodder for later episodes.




But, perhaps the most ominous item on the wall is a reference to the Mortis Danse (Dance of Death). It is even headed with a circled one to highlight its importance.




According to Wikipedia, “The Danse Macabre, also called the Dance of Death, is an artistic genre of allegory of the Late Middle Ages on the universality of death.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danse_Macabre You can’t say they didn’t warn us! From the first episode they gave us this upfront hint of what the show’s central moral would be: everybody dies. It is the Winchesters’ unwillingness to accept this simple fact that keeps them trapped in their macabre dance, leading them in ever decreasing, and ever more destructive, circles.

The Photo Motif (2)
In this scene, we also see the first family photo that includes Dean. There are several interesting features in this photo. First, contrasted against the family photo we saw in Sam’s apartment, the obvious difference is that Mary is out and the boys are in. But, also importantly, the home in the background is gone. Instead, the family is shown posing in front of the car.




I think it’s also worth comparing this photo with a scene from the episode opening and noting the similarities:




Notice how, as the emergency services deal with the fire, John sits on the car holding baby Sam protectively in his arms while a shocked and frightened Dean huddles against his father for comfort, but he is excluded from the embrace. The same tableau is mirrored in the photo in John’s motel room. This is an early hint of the theme that Dean feels in some way an outsider in his own family, and less valued than Sam.

Of course, John’s apparent neglect of Dean would be explained completely if Dean only existed in Sam’s imagination. Just sayin’ :P

Magical Realism (2)
A lot of the credit for the show’s early realism must go to the casting of quality actors who deliver absolutely authentic performances. Steve Railsback was superb in the role of Joseph Welch, Constance’s widowed husband.




It’s also worth noting that Sam reveals an utterly ruthless streak here in pursuit of the case. In this scene he barely hesitates before going for the jugular and revealing to a grieving man that his late wife may have murdered their children. Many of the traits that were later exaggerated in season 4, while he was drinking demon blood, can be seen to be nascent in his character from the first season. Sometimes I wonder if this, more than the monsters and the threat to life and limb, is what frightens Sam about hunting - that it has the potential to bring out this Machiavellian vein in his nature.

Meanwhile, Dean is handcuffed to a desk in the police station.








I love this little pop-culture nod back to MacGyver :D

Foreshadowing?
Here’s another scene I can’t help wondering about: when Constance attacks Sam, he points out that she can’t kill him because he’s never been unfaithful, to which she replies,




When I first watched the scene, I assumed it was just cynicism and that she was saying that all men are eventually unfaithful. But, in retrospect, I wonder if it was prophecy. Did Kripke already foresee, even at the outset, that there would come a point in the story when the brothers would betray each other?

The Photo Motif (3)




The rule of three, a dramatic device used for emphasis, alerts us to the importance of the photograph motif in this episode. This is the third and last family portrait we see and, like the others, it has features in common with what’s gone before. Like the previous photo, it features a parent and two children except, in this case, the parent is the mother and one of the children is a girl. The girl is on the right, as Dean was in the previous photo. I do find the length of Dean’s hair interesting in that photo; it makes him look a bit girlish. Yes, that is probably a reach at this stage but, on the other hand, I read somewhere that there’s a fan study that explores, in depth, the possibility that Supernatural casts Dean in the role of ‘feminine other’, and I can certainly think of scenes in later episodes for which that argument could be made. (If anyone has read the study I’m referring to, knows the author and/or can provide a link to it, I’d love to read it for myself.)

The other thing that occurs to me about this photo is that everyone in it is dead and, we soon find out, ghosts. We are shown a number of photographs during the course of the episode. Apart from the three family portraits in the episode, there’s also the photo of Troy that his girlfriend posts all over the town, and the photos of all the previous victims in John’s motel room. With the exception of the portrait of John and his sons, all the photos we’re shown feature dead people. Is it possible that, in some sense, the Winchesters are also dead?

The Original Woman in White? (Reprise)
Earlier I drew attention to the physical similarities between the Winchester home and that of the Welch’s. Nowhere is that similarity made starker than when the Welch children are standing at the top of the stairs.





Compare this shot with the one of Mary descending the stairs in the episode opening: in many ways, they’re identical. So, I’d like to return to the observation I made earlier about the white nightdress Mary is wearing and ask the question: was Mary a woman in white? Later in the series - in season 5, “Dark Side of the Moon” - we learn that John left home for an indefinite time when Dean was a child. Did he leave her for another woman? Was John unfaithful to Mary?

A Naturalistic Reading
The parallels between the Winchesters and the Welches suggest to me a number of interpretive possibilities. The first is that Mary’s death was actually suicide, and the manner of it may have been hinted at in the shot I drew attention to earlier where it appeared her body  might have been hanging from the ceiling. What if she hung herself from a light fitting and this was the true cause of the fire? There may be corroboration for this possibility in episode 9, “Home” when John’s former mechanic colleague says that the fire was caused by “an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something”. We only ever saw Mary’s death from John’s pov. Later in the season there are hints that Dean witnessed something, too, but he’s never talked about what he saw. In “Home” when Sam asks him about it he says he remembers the fire and the heat, and carrying Sam out the front door, then, after a pause he adds “and, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was….was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.” [My emphasis]. It’s possible Mary’s supernatural death was a delusion John created because he couldn’t face the guilt of being the cause of her suicide. Everything after that point would, in that case, be a shared psychosis that John imposed on his sons.

An Alternative Supernatural Reading
Or, everyone died in the fire, and the Winchesters are spirits condemned to a purgatorial existence where they spend the rest of eternity fighting their demons. (Ghosts only see what they want to see).

A Metaphorical Reading
On the other hand, maybe the parallel between the Winchesters and the Welches was intended to do no more than foreshadow that directly or indirectly, through her death, Mary would ultimately be the cause of her children’s destruction just as surely as Constance killed hers. And maybe the whole kit’n caboodle is just a metaphor for the way people trap themselves in a self-destructive nightmare when they can’t let go of the past.

The Refusal of the Call
With the case solved, Dean is eager to continue the search for John, but Sam reminds him that he has to get back for his interview. Sadly, reluctantly even, Dean nevertheless accepts Sam’s choice and delivers him back to his residence at Stanford:




And, lest we forget the primary moral of the story, it’s underscored that it takes brawn and brains, heart and soul, working together to get the job done.





There’s a sense of bridges having been mended and hope that the formerly estranged brothers might be fully reconciled in an unspecified future but, soon after this touching farewell, the proverbial hits the fan and the girlfriend hits the ceiling. Despite Sam’s choice, and Dean’s acceptance of it, forces have conspired to ensure that Sam can never go home.

This is a classic motif from the hero’s journey known as “the refusal of the call”. The hero receives the herald’s challenge to adventure, but determines to remain in his normal life. Invariably this leads to misfortunes that convince him of the futility of resisting the summons. An ancient example is Jonah who was summoned to preach divine wrath to the people of Ninevah. In his attempt to flee from God’s call, he winds up in the belly of a whale. A more modern example is Luke Skywalker who initially refuses Obiwan’s invitation to help rescue Princess Leia. But subsequently he is driven into the fight with the Empire by the murder of his aunt and uncle. The violent severing of ties to the former life is also a common motif, frequently this means the death of a guardian or companion. This character is known as “the guardian of the hearth.” For Sam, that character is Jessica, and it is his refusal of the call that dooms her. Had he accepted the quest straight away, there would have been no need for her to die. Azazel later acknowledges that she only died because she was in the way of his plans for Sam. (s1e22).

The Unreliable Narrator.
In the ensuing narrative, the point seems to get lost along the way that, at the end of the first case, Dean brought Sam safely home and, if it had not been for Jessica’s death, that would have been that. On many occasions both Sam and Dean have made the claim that Dean dragged Sam back into hunting, but I think that claim needs to be examined against what actually happened. Dean, in fact, only took Sam away for a weekend. At the end of it, he took Sam home, as agreed. Sam blames himself for not being with Jessica to protect her when the demon attacked but, realistically, what could he have done? At that stage, he had no weapons to fight with, neither the Devil’s Trap nor the Colt. So, what could he have done to protect her? How could he have stopped her death?

Even if Dean had never come to Stanford, would that have changed anything? Azazel would still have wanted Sam hunting, and Jessica’s death would still have achieved that object. On finding Jessica on the ceiling, Sam would still have wanted revenge and answers that only John could have given him. Upon calling home, he would have been informed by Dean that John was missing, and the brothers would still have set off on their quest to find their father. There would have been no substantive change to the outcome. In short, Dean didn’t drag Sam back into hunting, Azazel did.

This example demonstrates an important consideration when examining statements made by characters on the show: everybody lies. Sam and Dean live a life that is built on deception; they lie to others in the course of their work, and in their daily lives; they lie to each other, and they lie to themselves. That’s why it’s important to differentiate carefully between what we’re told, and what we’re shown. At the outset, Supernatural, was a detective show; not just for Sam and Dean, but for the viewers. We were expected to examine all the evidence and read between the lines. ‘Canon’ is not just what the characters say; sometimes it’s quite the opposite. Sam and Dean are notoriously unreliable narrators of their own story.

Closing Frame
In closing, I’d like to reiterate that, while speculating about possible interpretations of shots or scenes, I’m not suggesting that any of them represent “what Supernatural really means”. These are only alternative readings of the same material. They represent ways in which the show allows our imaginations to explore multiple worlds of possibility. Sometimes it does this overtly. For example, in Nightmare, when we are explicitly told that John never physically abused his children, but we are invited through the example of Max, and Sam’s response to it, to imagine a world of possibility in which it might have happened. As Sam himself puts it: “a little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood.” http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/1.14_Nightmare_(transcript)

Other times the suggestions are more subtle. An image, or collection of images, or an ambiguous line of dialogue, can allude to what might have been: worlds of possibility in which Sam might have been a psychotic patient, or the brothers might have been ghosts, or harboured illicit feelings for each other; all the rich proliferation of meaning that has made Supernatural the most creatively inspiring show on television.

If you’ve stuck with me this far, I hope that means you’ve found something mildly entertaining in the foregoing ramble. If so, I hope you’ll let me know. Please tell me what interested you, and whether you think it’s worth my while continuing with similar meditations on the rest of the season’s episodes. And, if you have insights of your own that you think I’ve missed, please share those with me, too.



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gothic horror, wincest and incest themes, apple pie theme, the hero's journey, psychodrama, john, season 1, dean, joseph campbell, the dysfunctional family, sam, authenticity, freaks, the pilot, literary metaphor, episode rewatch, yin/yang, mary, the dance of death, status and role reversals, pop-culture reference, bridges, the divided self, disguise/mask, magical realism, family dynnamics, family is hell, unreliable narrators, political allegory, spirits, homoerotic subtext, supernatural, winchesters as ghosts, the shadow, the woman in white

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