![\"mary35\"](\"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/mary35.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n\nDirected by Peter Ellis
\nWritten by Ron Milbauer & Terri Burton<\/i><\/p>\n
Episode 5 is as dark as the pilot<\/a>, even darker in some scenes. You barely see a face in clear view. Color is so drained out of the frame in Episode 5 that there are times you cannot tell that it has been filmed in color at all. It looks like mildly saturated black-and-white film. It’s is a bold and risky look, and you can imagine the network balking at these first episodes: “Why the hell can’t we see anything?” as well as people like the lead actors’ agents\/managers: “Why the hell did you cast these hotties and then NOT give us a good look at them?” I am sure all of that was swirling around at the time but they stuck to their guns, and kept this high-contrast deep-shadow look (which is now pretty much gone, and I miss it). One of the strengths of the Supernatural<\/i> style is that it makes the entire WORLD look frightening, not just the world of the victims. You know, the restaurant scene in the pilot. It’s a simple exposition scene, but the way it is filmed makes it seem like everyone is about to be massacred. The style also makes Sam and Dean, the leads, seem like un-knowable ciphers, instead of dazzlingly-lit morally-certain heroes. They show up in black silhouette in Episode 5 constantly. <\/p>\n \n \n \n \nI love the subversive nature of it. These are two actors who are so good-looking that they are in the 1 percentile of beauty, the true “Freaks” of the world. And we can’t even fucking see <\/em>them. I love Supernatural<\/i> for that. Sam and Dean are filmed how villains are normally filmed, and so it is highly suggestive, suggestive of all kinds of evil undercurrents. They aren’t safe from the things that stalk the victims. They’re on the chopping block too. <\/p>\n Some overview thoughts before we go into the scene-by-scene. <\/p>\n \n<\/p>\n \nEpisode 5 is about secrets. People who keep secrets die. Families keep secrets from one another, people keep secrets from themselves. Some of the secrets Sam and Dean trip over are worse than others. Some seem to suggest bad faith, or plain old lying. Others bad luck or not being able to predict the future. <\/p>\n Episode 4 ended with the upsetting outgoing phone message from Dad<\/a>, a man who kept secrets all his life from his sons, and continues to do so. But it also ended with Sam realizing that the demon they just killed somehow “knew about Jessica”, that the death of Jessica was somehow common-knowledge in the Evil Crap world. Episode 5 leaves the Dad trail behind (he’s only mentioned twice in the episode, and that in a casual way), but picks up the Jessica’s Death trail. Like the victims they encounter in Episode 5, Sam has a secret too. It is certainly not a surprise that after being sneered at knowingly by the demon in Episode 4 about the death of his girlfriend, that Sam would suddenly be haunted by her, literally and figuratively. There is something weighing on him and it is not just her death. It takes the entire episode for the truth to come out. <\/p>\n Episode 5 deals with the folklore legend of “Bloody Mary”<\/a>. My childhood friends and I used to dare each other to say “Bloody Mary” three times in the mirror at our various slumber parties which also involved Ouija boards and chanting “Light as a feather, stiff as a board”. Thank you, Liz Phair, for immortalizing those words in song<\/a>. She’s my alter ego. <\/p>\n Because “Bloody Mary” lives in mirrors, Episode 5 is jam-packed with reflective surfaces (more than one mirror in every scene). It had to be a hell of a job to light those scenes, as well as place the camera so it wouldn’t show up in the mirrors. <\/p>\n If you think about mirrors in a thematic way, they show us reality, only in reverse. What we see in them is not how things really are, but we accept that convention and are not confused by it. Episode 5 starts to shatter that instinctive understanding of reality, for both Sam and Dean. It all has to do with secrets, and Sam’s got a big one. <\/p>\n \n \nNot only that, but there is another secret, the secret of his whole life, which he is not even aware of, and nobody is aware of yet. Well, Dad knows it. It’s already present in Sam, it’s already working on him. If you think of Alice being pulled “through the looking-glass”, where up is down, and big is small, where everything you thought was inanimate comes alive, and where all creatures speak in a brutally logical way that ends up sounding nonsensical – because logic taken to its extremest ends becomes gibberish – Episode 5 is the beginning of that journey for Sam. This will become clear in the final standoff at the antiques shop. And if you think of how things go in later seasons, with the whole Ruby thing, not to mention the soul-less debacle, and THEN the hallucination of Lucifer standing right by his side at all times, which lasts for episodes on end \u2026 Sam’s journey is always going to be about what is real and what is not, what is me and what is not, where can I separate the me that I know from that other THING that is inside me, that was put inside me without my consent? Is there a line drawn? Can I draw that line? Can I put up a “wall” in my head? Can I ever be whole? <\/p>\n \n \nDean has problems. But he doesn’t have THESE problems. His problems have more to do with undiagnosed PTSD (in my opinion) resulting from a violent childhood, a violent life, and then of course everything else that has happened in the course of his job as a hunter, a bullying\/emasculating\/absent father, a total lack of a mother, lack of creature comforts (a terrible thing to a man who glories in the simple pleasures), a probable history of sexual assault in his late teens, early 20s (my theory), or at the very least some pretty sketchy sexual situations which destroyed his already-compromised boundaries, and all-around general trauma which he buries in an avalanche of alcohol and sex. Super fun! He’s no picnic. And he’s getting worse. Jensen Ackles is TRACKING this. He has not lost that underlying thruline in the episodic nature of the show. Dean’s coping skills work for him (except when they don’t). He causes a lot of destruction in the lives of people he loves. He wears his damage on his sleeve. He’s impulsive and reckless, and refuses to feel certain feelings, but it’s hard to imagine him being SPLIT like Sam is. Shattered in a million pieces, yes. But split in two? No. <\/p>\n It’s interesting: when Sam looks in the mirror at the antiques shop, the slight slant in the glass at the edge of the frame splits off the reflection so it seems that there are two of him. Brilliantly handled. All subtextual and visual. <\/p>\n Both brothers have their individual vulnerabilities. The whole “you’re not strong enough” or “I’m stronger than you” thing comes up in later seasons, but it’s not really in place here yet. Dean is the natural dominant one, in the driver’s seat, he’s the older brother, and Sam is finding his sea-legs in the job, still shaky from the trauma of losing his girlfriend. It’s natural that Dean would be the Boss. But something is going ON with Sam here, the nightmares being the clue, and soon the whole thing will crack open like a walnut. <\/p>\n Episode 5 is where that arc really starts. <\/p>\n \nTeaser<\/big> \nShe looks like who I refer to as the “well-chick”<\/a> from The Ring<\/i>. (Episode 5 is filled with hat-tips to The Ring<\/i>.) Bloody Mary, by the way, was played by Jovanna Huguet, and how much fun must this role have been??<\/p>\n Dad goes into the dark bathroom and swings open the medicine cabinet. Medicine cabinet mirrors have a long history in cinema of being totally FREAKIN’ SCARY, especially when they swing open and closed, because, you know, you think you’re alone, and then you close the mirror, and oh shit, there’s a drooling monster, or there’s Glenn Close with a knife. The bathroom is so dark (since nobody in Supernatural<\/i> ever turns on overhead lights) and Dad leans forward to stare at his face in dawning horror. <\/p>\n Older sister Donna Shoemaker (Kristie Marsden) comes home, there’s some not-so-friendly banter with her younger sister about being late for curfew, and then she goes upstairs into the terrifying mirror-lined hallway, peeks into the bathroom, and sees that the floor is black with blood. We never see Dad on the floor. We just see Donna give an awesome horror-movie bloodcurdling scream. <\/p>\n 1st scene<\/big> \n \nConsidering what comes out in the course of this episode. I find her look here to be more accusatory than scared. The entire event starts to look different once we hear Sam’s secret. <\/p>\n Suddenly we hear Dean’s voice, sharp, saying, “Sam!”, and Sam, his head flopped over on the leather seat of the Impala, wakes up with a start. The car is parked, and Dean is going over something in his lap, the obituary he’s circled or whatever. Sam is still in the clutches of the nightmare, gasping, and coming back to life. The windshield is spotted with dust. (I love that the team knows how beat-up this car would get, considering the mileage they put on it.) Dean is taciturn, not staring at his brother, not even looking at him, but he says, “Sooner or later we’re gonna have to talk about this.” Dean sounds super-psyched about having a heart-to-heart.<\/p>\n Sam is fuzzy and sleep-deprived, and looks confused and beaten up. In my opinion, Dean also looks like shit in this episode, unlike, say, Episode 3<\/a>, where he was painfully beautiful and sensitive. Here, he looks pale, unshaven, with bruised eyelids and shadows under his eyes. Nobody is doing well in the Winchester family right now. Considering where Episode 4 left off, it’s not a surprise. Worry is starting to settle in as a permanent condition. Not only is Dean worried about Dad, but he’s worried about Sam, too.<\/p>\n \n \nThe brothers sit outside the hospital in Toledo, and they are about to go in and check on this guy Shoemaker, whose mysterious death (a stroke in the prime of life, apparently) they have circled in the newspaper.<\/p>\n \n2nd scene<\/big> The morgue is dark and spooky, and the coroner is sitting there at his desk in the dark. <\/p>\n \n \nA small digression now. As Sam and Dean approach the coroner, Dean throws the guy an open smile, which comes naturally to him, but there’s something else in that kind of smile, something that perhaps only a person that good-looking would ever think to even attempt. Paul Giamatti, for example, has to rely on other things to get his way. Beauty is a fact of life, and people don’t want to admit it, and people who are weirdly beautiful have a strange relationship to said beauty. (I’ve gone into that in my Elvis posts as well. Elvis’ beauty showed up early, before he could handle it, before he even knew what it meant. He was pimply, shy, a mama’s boy, and exotically gorgeous. At age 13. What does that do to a person? Because people treat you differently when you’re that beautiful. Not that I would know. I’m just guessing. People either react with hostility or with desire, men and women. The objectification thing I keep mentioning in regards to Dean Winchester would have shown up early in his life. It’s not weird to him, it’s sometimes annoying, it’s sometimes useful, but it’s not weird.) Dean is used to getting things done for him. He is not vain, but he obviously knows when he “turns it on”, he’s a dazzler. It’s disarming to people, to be confronted with him, especially when he’s acting friendly. He’s been doing this his whole life, I imagine, so it’s completely unconscious, at least in the way Ackles plays it. In other words, he flirts. With everyone. Flirting isn’t just a part of hooking up with people, and in those scenarios, with women he goes after, what Dean does can’t even really be called flirting. It’s really more like, “So. What time do you get off?” It’s all part of the overtly sexual vibe that Dean Winchester gives off, whether he wants to or not. <\/p>\n Dean flirts with almost everyone (it’s more noticeable when he DOESN’T flirt), male, female, monsters, angels. He flirts to get his way, he flirts to deal with his own sense of panic, he flirts to disarm others, he flirts to get out of traffic tickets, he flirts with his bacon burgers, he flirts with his car. <\/p>\n It reminds me of the lead character in a novel I love, The Fiery Pantheon<\/a> “The truth was that she would have batted her eyelashes at anything in shoe leather.”<\/p>\n “It is true that she would have batted her eyelashes at almost anything in shoe leather. But then, it wouldn’t even have to be in shoe leather. She would bat her eyelashes at a friend, a relative, a building. She would have batted her eyelashes at a dog. This is the pathos of the incorrigible flirt. The incorrigible flirt is not necessarily a woman who wears a certain kind of clothing. It is not necessarily a frivolous soul. It is not necessarily somehow who cares about clothes and the surface impression. It is someone who would bat her eyelashes at the Tower of London, the Thames, the Pyramids – yes, hoping for a response.”<\/p>\n “She insisted on wearing a barrage of shapeless layers of clothing successfully concealing her perfectly voluptuous form.”<\/p>\n “She batted her eyelashes briefly at the lake, succumbing to its beauty. It is true that she would have batted her eyelashes at the Blue Ridge Moutnains, or Park Avenue on a snow night; she would flirt with a city, she would flirt with a concept a dream; she would have batted her eyelashes at honor itself. It was true that her engagement did not prevent her from batting her eyelashes at the entire state of Virginia. It had nothing to do with her feelings for the intended bridegroom. She would have batted her eyelashes at a dog.”<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Dean doesn’t bat his eyelashes, not actually. But his behavior is batting-eyelashes, and Jensen Ackles does it specifically, clearly choosing his moments for the character. It’s deliberate. What is funny in Episode 5 is that his “batting eyelashes” gets him nowhere, repeatedly, and he keeps trying it, and Sam has to keep coming in and saving the day. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, just like come-ons to women. Dean throws it out there, recklessly, and he is often misunderstood – people think he’s making fun of them, or who knows what, they’re sensing the sexual undertone in how he’s behaving and it makes them feel uncomfortable. It could be any number of things. <\/p>\n But I’ll point out Dean’s compulsive “batting eyelashes” stuff as we go along. <\/p>\n Dean’s interaction with the coroner is classic “batting eyelashes” behavior. Back to that smile: it is somehow inclusive, intimate, weirdly familiar for that particular circumstance. <\/p>\n \n \nHe introduces themselves as med students from Columbus, who have been invited by the resident doctor to view “the Shoemaker corpse”. The coroner isn’t buying it, and says the doctor’s at lunch, and the way this actor (James Ashcroft) plays it, you can tell it feels GOOD to say No to this particular guy who is smiling at him in that weirdly intimate buddy-buddy way. What Dean is doing, charming as it is, is a power play, almost hypnotic, and the coroner resists it. Dean, undeterred, still eyelashes-batting, says, “Look, man, if we can just have a second with the corpse –” and, beautifully, the coroner interrupts him, and says back, “Look \u2026 man<\/i> \u2026 No<\/em>.” He says it with such an edge<\/i>. He imitates Dean’s “man” in a way that freezes Dean, reveals Dean’s tactics. What a moment for such a small somewhat stock scene. There’s something deep going on here, a sort of “being found out” thing that happens sometimes when Dean comes into contact with other men, especially authority figures. He can’t just be himself with them, he has to act a part, which sometimes works, but when it doesn’t it’s like Dean’s whole world crumbles. <\/p>\n \n \nIt’s basically a standoff. Kind of amazing. Dean murmurs to Sam, “I’m gonna punch his head”, which is Dean’s second tactic to getting his way if the first one is a bust. Sam, realizing this very simple situation has spun totally out of control because his brother is flirting with the coroner, steps up, focusing his own laser gaze on the coroner, and pulls out a small wad of bills, handing it over. <\/p>\n The camera angle here is eloquent: Dean looks very small next to his brother, damn near short, no small feat for an actor who is over 6 feet himself, and looks on over Sam’s shoulders at the money and lets out a huff of annoyance. <\/p>\n \n \nThe coroner takes the money, smiles up at Sam, and says, “Follow me.” It’s a weirdly emasculating little moment for Dean, it’s like the coroner and Sam are able to meet man to man, and Dean is left off to the side, like some worn-out burlesque act or something. It makes me wonder how often his father saw Dean using himself in this way and had to get him out of scrapes. What kind of conversations would have ensued? What would Dad say to Dean in such a situation? Ah, those big GAPS in what we know! <\/p>\n All of this is played subtly too. Jensen Ackles isn’t queening it up or anything equally offensive. I wouldn’t have lasted one episode if that shit was going on. It’s deeper. It’s psychological. It’s sexual but it’s also NOT. Or, it suggests that sex is used for all kinds of different reasons, and here’s one of them. Dean will obviously sleep with people to get information. We see him do it in later episodes. There’s the episode in Chicago where he sleeps with the police officer to get a hold of the files they need, and we can only assume that this happens a lot. In the “haunted painting” episode, when the antiques dealer clearly takes a shine to Sam, Dean keeps pushing his brother to ask her out, not just because he thinks Sam needs to start trying to get over Jess (although that is part of it), but because she has Intel they need. “Take one for the team, Sammy,” says Dean. Flirting with the coroner, flirting with cops, flirting with doctors, flashing a smile, making a joke, whatever, Dean is fine “taking one for the team”. <\/p>\n Dean hisses at Sam, “I earned that money!” Sam corrects him, “You won it in a poker game.” Dean honestly does not see the difference. That IS earning money. WTF are you talking about. <\/p>\n The coroner shows them the dead body, and tells them that the guy’s eyes were completely liquified. He’s baffled. “Something burst up in there, that’s for sure.”<\/p>\n \n \nDean, who needs something again, makes the mistake of batting his eyelashes at the coroner again, saying, with a smile that would work on 99% of the population, “I’d really like to get a look at the police report.” The coroner feels what is going on yet again, feels what Dean is ACTUALLY doing, and says flatly, “I’m really not supposed to show you that.” Sam, with a sigh, pulls out more money, and the coroner takes it, grinning at Sam. Poor Dean. <\/p>\n 3rd scene<\/big> \n \nThis is the only one of two times that “Dad” is mentioned in the episode. I guess, considering Dad’s disturbing outgoing message, that makes sense. Although Dad has receded into the background a bit, Mom is everywhere here, albeit never mentioned. Hell, she’s even in the title. The brothers make the decision to go talk to the daughter who found her father dead.<\/p>\n 4th scene<\/big> \n \nOut into the backyard, Sam and Dean approach the two grieving daughters, who are sitting with two friends. The Winchesters present themselves as people who worked with their Dad, and they’re really sorry. One of the friends, a blonde, looks up at them and clearly does a double-take at the sight of them. I mean, wouldn’t you? <\/p>\n Sam naturally takes the leadership role in this situation. Dean is just too weird, he comes off as insincere and he is a horrible liar. Sam actually means what he says. Donna doesn’t look like she believes that these scruffy giant hotties with bags under their eyes worked with her father. The other friend, a girl named Charlie (Marnette Patterson), feels protective of the grieving Shoemaker girls and tries to shut down the line of questioning.<\/p>\n Little sister Lily jumps in saying it wasn’t a stroke. It was because she “said it”. Sam squats down to her level, a beautiful gesture that he does constantly: he is aware of his height, and he does what he can to level the playing field, with just about everyone (except his brother, of course). It’s an interesting difference in tactics: Sam gets down on the level of those he is talking to, whereas Dean tries to throw his weight (i.e.: dazzling smile) around. I’m being a little unfair to Dean, because he’s great with victims too, when things get dangerous, when the crisis eventually comes. But in these initial circumstances, he kind of sucks. Sam feels Lily’s torment, and questions her gently, and she confesses she said “Bloody Mary” 3 times into the mirror and then her Dad died. “She took his eyes. That’s what she does.”<\/p>\n Look at this beautiful shot, a classic line-up, beautifully imagined and executed. <\/p>\n \n \nThis is the clue Sam and Dean have been waiting for. They exchange meaningful glances. Dean jumps in saying that of course it can’t be “Bloody Mary” because “your dad didn’t say it. Did he?” <\/p>\n It is one of those subtle moments where we remember that Dean and Sam are experts in this stuff, they are not confused by much. They know all the lore. It’s us who need to play catch-up. <\/p>\n 5th scene<\/big> \n \nThey look at the stained tile, the sink, they discuss the “lore” of “Bloody Mary”. <\/p>\n There is great choreography again with the medicine cabinet mirror, which Dean opens, freaking Sam out because he almost inadvertently said “Bloody Mary” into the mirror. There’s that that pursed-lips thing Jared Padalecki does that is so funny, and so much a part of him. Often, in Episode 5, we only see Sam and Dean through the mirror. Whole scenes play out with us looking at what essentially is their reflection. <\/p>\n \n \nSam is confused because the legend say the ones who “say it” die, but here, it’s the dad, who didn’t <\/em>say it. Dean gets that, but still, the guy died right in front of the mirror and his eyes exploded, so what more do you need. <\/p>\n Charlie, the friend who tried to protect Donna, comes upstairs, looking for them and approaches. We only see her feet at first, approaching, with shadows on the floor. An ominous shot. When she asks, in an accusing voice, “What are you two doing up here?” Dean, master of bluffing, says bluntly, “We had to go to the bathroom” earning him a frustrated double-take from Sam. Charlie is furious at their behavior, how dare they come here and ask weird questions, and she knows they didn’t work with Mr. Shoemaker, she just knows it. She too is filmed in almost completely black silhouette. <\/p>\n \n \nCharlie threatens to start screaming unless they start talking. Sam says, yes, they do believe something weird is happening here and they don’t know what it is and they are trying to stop it. Dean’s contribution to this moment is: “So if you’re gonna scream, go right ahead.” <\/p>\n Sam gives Charlie his phone number and tells her to call if anything weird comes up. <\/p>\n \n6th scene<\/big> Of course, said libraries never have overhead lights apparently. At first I thought they had broken in after hours, but there is an extra walking by in the hallways, so no, this is just the darkest library in North America, and a great example of how Supernatural<\/i> feels totally free to just turn all the damn lights off, hang reality, in order to make realistic spaces seem otherworldly and frightening. <\/p>\n For example:<\/p>\n \n \nDoes that look like any public library you’ve ever seen? Dear Lighting Team: Show offs! Great job!<\/p>\n It is a clear visual reference to the famous library scene in Citizen Kane<\/i>.<\/p>\n \n \nAlthough they eventually figure out the computers in the library are on the fritz, Sam and Dean are there to do some research on the town and any strange unsolved murders that might have occurred. They stand there discussing that they also need to see if they can find the “original Mary”. Dean thinks it’s simple: find a local woman who died bad, she’s probably it, go salt and burn her bones, have a beer. Sam isn’t so sure, due to the widespread nature of the legend. How to un-tangle what is based on truth and what is based on the story being passed down through generations? Sam may be sleep-deprived throughout, but he is running this case. Sam’s plan is to search local records for a Mary who died in front of a mirror. Dean replies, “Well, that sounds annoying.” <\/p>\n 7th scene<\/big> \n \nJill, while still on the phone with Charlie, goes into the bathroom and says “Bloody Mary” into the mirror three times, all while Charlie begs her to stop. Jill laughs, and hangs up. Then sashays around her dark room. She opens her closet and the mirror on the inside door reveals that there is a horrifying hunched-over well-chick standing reflected in the mirror. Jill sits at her computer, and in the mirror above the desk, we see a dark black head gleaming in the shadows of the room. <\/p>\n Jill goes into the bathroom, washes her face, lalala, nothing’s wrong. But then \u2026 in what is perhaps the spookiest effect in the entire episode, the reflection of Jill stops moving, all as the “real” Jill keeps doing her thing. Imagine what that would feel like. How awful it would be. <\/p>\n \n \nJill notices what is happening, and starts hyperventilating. It doesn’t help that the reflection is giving her a murderous look, and then says, “You did it. You killed that boy.” Blood starts seeping out of the reflection’s eyeballs, and apparently it’s catching, and real-life Jill also starts bleeding from her eyeballs, as well as choking on it. That’s what you get, Jill, for being insouciant and blonde!<\/p>\n \n8th scene<\/big> Gasping, Sam wakes up. He’s lying on the bed in the motel room, as Dean sits over by the window, reading. I love the crappy slimy bed covers that I know so well from my stints in cheap motels. They don’t warm you up those blankets. Dean is sitting over by the window, reading, and he glances at his brother. Sam has probably been thrashing about and crying out. Dean hasn’t said a word. It’s getting to him. It hurts to see his brother like this, but Dean doesn’t manage “hurt” well. It just makes him mad. <\/p>\n \n \nInterestingly enough, in the first waking-up scene, Sam tries to put a positive spin on it and says, “At least I got some sleep.” But now he says, “Why’d you let me fall asleep?”<\/p>\n It’s starting. The Arc is starting. <\/p>\n Sam is all sleepy and troubled, lying there on the bed, and now is as good a time as any to revel in the inadvertent sexypants eye candy.<\/p>\n \n \nI’ve always preferred my eye candy to be colored with emotional torment. <\/p>\n \n \n \n \n \n \nDean’s come up with nothing about a dead Mary in his research. He’s obviously pissed off and frustrated. He hates research anyway. He’s also worried about Sam, and trying not to mention it or even acknowledge it. These brothers, and their roles, seems pretty simple on the face of it: Older brother looks out for younger brother. This is complicated by the fact that <\/p>\n 1. Dean is 26, 27, and Sam is 22, 23. It’s really time to find a new way to deal with each other. But their situation is unnatural. They are grown men, living in close quarters. It’s like being part of a religious cult or something. Adult siblings, in the natural order of things, move off and start their own lives. These guys haven’t, and the very thought of it is threatening (more so to Dean). This is a “dance” the brothers do with one another. We saw it in its infancy in the pilot, but with each episode it has been developed further. But here, one could say that that “dance” is the entire POINT of the episode, “Bloody Mary” notwithstanding.<\/p>\n And considering the painful Season 9 episode that just premiered this week: this “dance” is still going on, albeit 150 times more damaged and broken now, because of all they have been through. I would say it is a credit to these two fine actors that we aren’t sick of it. I mean, I’m a little sick of it. I want to see some breakthrough or, hell, I’d take a breakdown, so we get some movement forward, and that’s actually what the last scene of this past Season 9 episode felt like. The situation has gone on long enough. And at this point, it’s on Dean to change. The script made that explicit. Dean has got to fucking get his act together. <\/p>\n Anyway. With all of the talk about Bloody Mary in this episode what they are really talking about is their relationship, and the whole “secrets” thing. I’ve said it before: Dean has shitty boundaries. It’s one of the reasons he is great at his chosen job. He empathizes with everyone, even if he can’t show it or express it the way his brother does. Their terror is his, their pain is his, and he will do what he has to do to keep them safe and stop it from happening again. He’s GOOD at it. But in interpersonal relationships, boundaries are natural and healthy. Dean flat out cannot do it. He doesn’t love many people. He could count them on one hand. When he lets someone in, he lets them in all the way. It makes him awesome. But it also makes him fragile. <\/p>\n I would imagine that part of his boundary problems came from growing up in motel rooms with his father and brother, where he had no privacy. You sleep in the same room with your father and brother. Everyone would be up to date on your every fart. That’s not normal. Privacy itself was seen as suspect. Sam applied to Stanford in secret. Sam fled to Stanford without telling anyone. Look at Dean’s childlike thrill at actually having his own room in the bunker where he can close the door OMG<\/i>, and to have his own kitchen where he can COOK. For his sex life, he clearly works out arrangements with his brother (“don’t come back to the motel room tonight, Sammy”), or, it seems like he usually goes to her place (which is the gentlemanly thing to do anyway), but even there, his sex life has to be on display, in a way that is just not normal for regular adult siblings. Dean has lived this way his whole life so it doesn’t seem weird to him. And it’s the same with emotions: everything has to be on the table in clear view or Dean spins off into space. <\/p>\n During the conversation in the room, Sam’s phone rings. It is Charlie. <\/p>\n 9th scene<\/big> \n \nCharlie fills them in on the death of Jill, who was found on the bathroom floor with her eyeballs exploded. She is inconsolable and scared, especially because she heard Donna “say it”. “I’m insane, right?” sobs Charlie. (This young actress does a fine job in the episode.) Dean says, “No, you’re not insane.” She sobs, “God, that makes me feel so much worse.” It’s yet another tidbit having to do with insanity and the nature thereof in the show. There are obvious reasons<\/a> why I gravitate towards that subtext, why it has meaning for me. Is it worse to be “seeing things”? Or is it worse to see something that is totally impossible? The anxiety of the mind trying to adjust itself to new realities. <\/p>\n Dean looks up at Sam one point, almost throwing him the ball of the conversation through his eye contact. He knows who he is. He knows he’s not good at this part. And notice he never flirts with Charlie. Sam is soothing and beautiful, compassionate. It’s fascinating because Sam is struggling in Episode 5, struggling under a weight of sleep deprivation and constant nightmares. He is clicking into his role on an almost subterranean level, even working with that deficit. Perhaps because he understands about having secrets, more even than he knows. <\/p>\n 10th scene<\/big> \n \nDean and Sam both move with urgency, pulling stuff out of the duffel bag.<\/p>\n Subversive batting-eyelashes Dean alert. Sam turns on the “Night vision” on his video camera, and points it at Dean, who shows up in the viewfinder, glowing green and black. And then Jensen Ackles, love him, feels the camera on him, turns his back to it and peeks back over his shoulder coquettishly – yes, coquettishly – saying, “Do I look like Paris Hilton?” <\/p>\n \n \nNo, Dean, you don’t look like Paris Hilton, but you do look like Sex On a Stick, if that helps. <\/p>\n Sam does not dignify that with a response, and moves on. Dean doesn’t take it personally. He thinks he’s adorable<\/i>. He cracks himself<\/i> up. Night vision makes Dean think of Paris Hilton’s sex tape, but he puts himself into the female part of that scenario. I know, it’s just a joke, but Dean jokes like that all the time. It’s compulsive. It’s charming and goofy, and I have to add: there’s nothing wrong with it, I don’t want to make it sound like I think it’s “weird”, like “Oh so weird that a tough guy is so flirty and gender-bendy”. No, that’s not what I’m saying because that attitude is playing into the Masculine Tropes of our culture, the John Winchester Tropes, that have clearly RUINED his eldest son (well, not entirely, but, you know, damage has been done). What Jensen Ackles is doing in this role is carving out a space for some kind of fluidity in masculinity, and how we perceive it, and that may not be deliberate on his part, but I suspect that on some level it is. He read the script, he felt that potential, and so he uses himself in that way. It makes for many of Dean’s funniest moments. The trappings of Dean we have seen before, it has a long tradition: the outlaw, the lonely sheriff against the bad guys, the tough guy who saves (and then screws) the dame. These are organic parts of this character, but so is posing for the camera, pretending he’s Paris Hilton. Both parts of him are true. <\/p>\n That kind of “he would bat his eyelashes” at anything has already not worked for him in the episode. But Dean keeps tossing it out there anyway. Because he can’t help it. He flirts with a piece of pie, he flirts with Metallica and Ozzy Osborne, he flirts with diner waitresses and suspicious cops, he flirts with video cameras, he flirts with a bottle of beer.<\/p>\n Dean walks around the dark room with the EMF and Sam holds out the night vision, and Sam is talking about how none of this is making any sense to him. I’m so glad to hear him say that because it’s not making sense to me either. Mr. Shoemaker DIDN’T summon Mary and and Jill DID summon Mary \u2026 so how is this working? How is Mary choosing her victims? Sam tells Dean to go get the “black light in the trunk”, because of course they would have it in their arsenal, along with bottles of African dream root, rosaries and holy water. Dean crawls out the window and returns with the black light, which Sam then shines on the bathroom mirror in question. They see a ghostly blue handprint as well as a name: “Cary Bryman”. WTF.<\/p>\n 11th scene<\/big><\/p>\n \n \nDean and Charlie wait on the bench and Sam returns from the spooky Citizen Kane library with news on the Cary Bryman front. He was a little boy who had been killed in a hit-and-run two years before. The perpetrator was never found, although the car’s make and model was known. Charlie gasps that that is Jill’s car. <\/p>\n 12th scene<\/big> \n \nSam and Dean shine the black light on it, seeing, again, the palm print, and also, a name: “Linda Shoemaker”. <\/p>\n The brothers see the name, and do not discuss it and I admit I was half a step behind them my first time watching the episode. I thought: What? Me no understand. <\/p>\n 13th scene<\/big> Stock scene. Totally un-stock lighting. <\/p>\n \n 14th scene<\/big> Sam comes over to talk to Dean, and it’s a beautiful shot.<\/p>\n \n \nTwo completely different lights in one cramped space, Dean glowing blue, Sam in “natural” light: it’s a real eye-grabber. <\/p>\n Sam and Dean discuss the pattern that is now becoming clear to both of them: The people who died were not the ones who “said it”, they were the ones who had horrible secrets. That’s why little Lily didn’t get killed in the Teaser, even though she “said it”. Mary went after the Dad, because Dad was the one who killed Mom and nobody knows it. <\/p>\n Without putting an explicit underline to it, the Jess nightmares, and Sam’s inability to sleep, is starting, subtly, to dovetail with the Monster of the Week. It’s done so elegantly it’s almost invisible. <\/p>\n Sam brings up the “lore” (bless you, Padalecki, for all of your “lore” monologues and how effortlessly you handle them) about how mirrors have been believed to be a true reflection of your soul and will reveal all your lies to you. “This is why it’s bad luck to break them,” says Sam. <\/p>\n In Dean’s search, he found an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana. He prints out crime scene photos of a woman lying in front of a mirror, and there’s a big hand-print on the mirror. Looks promising. Dean tells Sam her name was “Mary Worthington.” <\/p>\n Sounds pretty close to “Mary Winchester”, wouldn’t you say? That association is never named, never handed to us on a plate. The brothers don’t even seem to make the connection. <\/p>\n 15th scene<\/big> \n \nThe cop tells them the story of Mary Worthington and says that is the major “loose end” of his career. He believed she was murdered, even though it was ruled a suicide, but he could never prove it. No fingerprints, no witnesses. Mary Worthington was killed in her own apartment and her eyes were cut out with a knife. <\/p>\n Batting-Eyelash Tracking Code: Dean does NOT flirt with this gentleman. Instead, he takes on a respectful and submissive manner, calling him “Sir”, all while remaining open and up-front (well, except for lying about who he is and giving a false reason for being there, yeah, except for that). The man has obvious natural authority, he is much older than Dean, and he’s a cop. Dean automatically respects all of that. There’s only one Alpha Dog in that room and it’s not Dean. It’s hard to imagine Dean trying to dazzle this old guy with a smile. See? Jensen Ackles is choosing when his character flirts and when he doesn’t. Smart actor. We’re only 5 episodes into this thing. I love the detail that’s already there.<\/p>\n The cop believes that Mary had been trying to expose her murderer’s secret right before she died. You can feel how much the case still gets him, how much it still eats away at him.<\/p>\n I just need to point out that, although Dean is not batting his eyelashes behaviorally in the scene, the eyelashes are so long and curly that they cast shadows halfway down his face. <\/p>\n \n \nI said it before, in another post: His is a beautiful face, glamorous and sensuous, but it needs to be lit correctly. Otherwise, it sort of flattens out into “Pretty Boy Whatevs” good looks. This is a stunning shot of him. <\/p>\n Sam, on the other hand, is half-drowning in shadow. Sam is half-in and half-out of his dreamworld at all times through Episode 5, and that is reflected in how he is lit.<\/p>\n \n \nCreator Eric Kripke said once, something along the lines of, “How much did we luck out when we cast these two guys?” <\/p>\n Seriously. <\/p>\n I have not kept a running tally of how many times the brothers ask the question, “So where was he\/she buried?” only to hear the disappointing answer, “She\/he was cremated”, but it’s up there.<\/p>\n 16th scene<\/big> \n \nEpisode 5 now shows its cards. Donna storms out of the bathroom, and Charlie, upset, walks down a school hallway by herself, and in the dark reflective surface of a classroom window we see Bloody Mary lying in wait for her. In an episode all about secrets, the writers are keeping secrets from us too.<\/p>\n 17th scene<\/big> \n \nHer concerned teacher grabs a hold of her, trying to calm her down, and in an awesome shot, we see Charlie in the reflection of his glasses, and there is Mary, standing right behind her. <\/p>\n \n18th scene<\/big> \n \nSam’s on the phone talking to a Worthington family member, trying to track down the actual mirror. He tells Dean that Mary’s brother sold the mirror \u2026 last week \u2026 to an antiques store in Toledo. They talk about what this means. Mary’s spirit clearly moves with the mirror somehow. Dean asks Sam, the nerd, about the old superstition that mirrors can capture spirits. Sam pontificates in response, explaining that that’s why people would drape the mirrors after a death. This still doesn’t explain how Mary can move through different mirrors. Dean suggests they not worry about that and go to the antiques store and smash the fucking thing as soon as possible. Sam’s phone rings. <\/p>\n \n19th scene<\/big> \n \nThat blue light over at the side really makes this stunner of a shot. Charlie sits on the bed, covering her eyes, as Sam and Dean, silently and efficiently, cover up all reflective surfaces in the room. Man, if you see “Bloody Mary” coming after you in your chem lab, you would hope you would meet these two fellows who would know what to do. <\/p>\n Jared Padalecki is beautiful in this scene. How does he do it? How is he so gentle without ever coming off as smarmy or sentimental? It’s not easy to do and Padalecki always finds just the right tone. He sits with Charlie, whispering to her hunched-over figure, telling her that as long as she doesn’t look at anything that has a reflection, “Mary” cannot get her. <\/p>\n Dean sits down on the bed and says to Charlie, “We need to know what happened.” She starts to tell the story about her and Donna in the bathroom and he interrupts her: “That’s not what we’re talking about. Something happened, didn’t it. In your life. A secret.”<\/p>\n So here’s a thought, another digression. <\/p>\n In these “interrogations”, Dean often has to deal with people’s secrets. There’s usually a reason that the monster is coming after them, there’s some crack, some event, that brought it on. The brothers have to deal with people’s secrets all the time. There’s one scene in Season 6 when they’re interviewing a girl who was attacked by a monster, and her promise ring was stolen, and the brothers know that this is a bad sign because of the pattern they have perceived in the attacks, and Dean says, “I gotta ask, and no judgment, believe me, but should you have been wearing that ring?” When he says “no judgment” he means it. He doesn’t turn on the soothing “you can tell me anything” vibe that his brother does, he’s more to the point about it, but he honestly doesn’t judge people for their flaws and failings. If they do bad things that hurt others, then hell yes, he judges, but simple human flaws, like lying about sex or drinking too much or having a messy or compromised past? Dean doesn’t care. He’s a deeply moral man, in his way, but not a judgmental one. He knows he’s no saint, and he doesn’t care what you do in your spare time. So when he zooms in on Charlie, saying he needs to know the secret, he doesn’t do so in a finger-wagging “you asked for this” way. He asks because now he knows that Charlie has a secret, and it’s putting her in danger, and they need to know what it is. Also, if there’s one thing Dean understands in his bone marrow, it’s guilt. But his vibe, in its way, is just as compassionate as Sam’s. You could tell this man anything and he wouldn’t flinch.<\/p>\n \n \n(Of course Sam doesn’t feel that way. Dean basically panics, repeatedly, when faced with Sam’s secrets. But, you know, family sucks that way.) <\/p>\n \n \nCharlie tells a terrible story about an old boyfriend who killed himself after she broke up with him. She is filled with guilt about it. Dean and Sam just listen, don’t say anything. Her pain is palpable. The camera is right up in her grill and she does an excellent job.<\/p>\n 20th scene<\/big><\/p>\n \n \nI love this scene. It’s LONG. It’s rare to have a LONG scene so late in the game, but Supernatural<\/i> does it all the time. The momentum of the Monster of the Week never gets in the way with the Brothers Relationship Arc: they inform one another, they reflect one another. If you sacrificed the Brothers Relationship Arc, you’d have nothing, you wouldn’t have a show.<\/p>\n It’s a rainy night, and Dean and Sam are on their way to the antiques store. The windshield wipers are going, and oncoming headlights sweep across their rain-splotched faces, and streelamps go by, blurry and unfocused out the windows, and it’s beautiful and dark and emotional. Dean is talking, saying that this boyfriend who killed himself – it’s sad and everything but it’s not Charlie’s fault. Over and over and over again, in this series, with Sam and with others, Dean stands up for the inner integrity of the person he is dealing with, whatever bad thing they might have done. How many times has he said to Sam, “It’s not your fault”? But he does it with everyone. It’s a fascinating schism in his own character, because honestly, he should be saying it to himself. But isn’t that the way it goes, with guilt? Until Castiel comes along, Dean can’t really hear it from others, and even with Castiel, it gets complicated, one of the reasons for that being Castiel’s inability to speak in plain human emotional terms. Castiel is Dean’s guardian angel (Sam’s too, but it’s really all about Dean), and Castiel protects Dean as though he is WORTH something. Look at how Dean deals with people like Lisa, or Ben, or anyone else who tries to tell him how much he means to them, how wonderful he is. Nope, shut that door quick, you don’t know me, I am a bad guy. I’m dirty, I’ll mess up your life. But Dean changes under that kind of attention from Castiel. His behavior with Castiel is unlike his behavior with any other character on the show. It’s as though Castiel is shining a light on his inner integrity, on his worth, that no matter what he has done in his life, the shitty things, the violent things, the shady things, he is still worth saving and protecting. This is never discussed “in text”. It’s all in the behavior and subtext. Once Castiel disappears in season 7, Dean’s drinking ratchets up a notch. Dean is heartbroken. Again, this is not discussed, because Dean won’t discuss it. But his drinking becomes an all-day self-soothing thing, rather than a way to let off steam. I love how they handle his drinking. Anyway. Dean has a Grand Canyon of guilt in himself, but he’s a tough guy, he can handle it and eat that pain and white-knuckle it, it’s his job to do so, his personal happiness is irrelevant. But guilt in others he can’t abide. <\/p>\n We are now moving towards the final confrontation, and we are now moving towards the explicit connection between those nightmares Sam has been having and the constant mirrors we’ve seen through the episode. Sam is withholding something, from Dean, and from us, but Jared Padalecki is letting that secret work on him. It’s informing his performance. You can clearly see it from start to finish of the episode, once you know what the secret is. That’s smart acting. <\/p>\n Sam reminds Dean that spirits don’t see in “shades of grey”. It doesn’t matter whether or not Charlie is at fault. It’s the SECRET that is the issue. Which brings Sam to his next comment. He puts out the idea that since Mary floats from mirror to mirror, they should try to pin her down into “her” mirror. Once she’s there, they can smash it. Dean doesn’t get it at first, and scoffs, “Well, who’s gonna summon her?” And Sam says, “I will. She’ll come after me.”<\/p>\n Because they now know the whole case is about secrets, Dean has finally had enough, says, “Okay. That’s it” and pulls the car over to the side of the road. It’s time for a Big Brother pep talk. Naturally, though, because it’s Dean, it comes out as anger. <\/p>\n \n \nHe lays into Sam about Jessica and how her death was not Sam’s fault. “This has got to stop, man. The nightmares, the calling her name out in the middle of the night \u2026” (Ugh, the intimacy and lack of privacy in their lives indicated by that image. They don’t have their own rooms. It’s claustrophobic. When do they masturbate? No wonder they’re on edge. I took a 7-day road trip with my friend Jen and joked about how it was throwing me off schedule. Imagine living like that.) Dean tells Sam to blame “the thing that killed Jess”, or hell, blame him, because he’s the one who dragged him back into the life. (An interesting corollary to this comes up in Season 7 with the wonderful episode where Dean is “put on trial” for all the bad things he has done, and Sam is called as a witness. The main issue is: Didn’t Dean ruin your life? Didn’t Dean help smash that life you were building?) Sam is quiet, and listens, and says that no, he doesn’t blame Dean. You believe him. Both actors do a superb job with this scene. Sam insists that he could have warned Jessica, and Dean erupts, “You didn’t know it was gonna happen!” <\/p>\n But the best moment of the scene is yet to come, and Jared Padalecki’s work here gives me goosebumps. Dean says, “None of this is gonna work anyway because it’s not a secret. I know all about it.”<\/p>\n Sam says, “You don’t know all about it. I haven’t told you everything.”<\/p>\n The look of stunned silence on Dean’s face is heartbreaking, in a way. In Dean’s world, what you don’t know WILL kill you. But it’s deeper than that. You can sense how much he clings to his brother, and how much the Protector Role IS his personality. This is not necessarily a bad thing. But Sam keeping a secret threatens to topple the whole house of cards, and Dean is stunned that there is something his “little brother” not only has kept from him, but COULD keep from him. The scales tip, Sam rising in strength, Dean descending. <\/p>\n The scene wouldn’t work if Jared Padalecki wasn’t so calm. He is not defensive. He is not angry. He is just separate<\/i>. Think about this past week’s episode, when Sam said to Dean in the final scene, “Something is broken here”, meaning in their relationship. And Sam looked so grown-up in that scene, so tall and complete, in his suit, in his confident sense of self. While Dean was in pieces. He looked shattered. He had a freakin’ BEARD. <\/p>\n Episode 5 in Season 1 is where that ball started rolling, and in this scene in particular.<\/p>\n \n \nDean says, “What are you talking about?”, and Sam replies, with a little smile, “Well, it wouldn’t really be a secret if I told you, would it?” <\/p>\n We’ve gotten glimpses of how formidable Sam can be, but it has usually been in situations where we see his brain power and his ability to manage a chaotic situation. But here, we see his emotional strength. Because underneath that comment is a sense of his own power, which he deserves to have. He doesn’t want to undermine Dean, and he still loves him, but dammit, Dean doesn’t know everything and doesn’t need to know everything. <\/p>\n Dean puts the Ix-Nay on Sam’s plan. No. We’re not doing it. Sam says that more people are going to die, and Charlie is going to die. And his words are eloquent: “You’ve got to let me do this.”<\/p>\n That language will change as the series progresses. Sam will start to question why he feels that Dean needs to “let” him do anything. He can do whatever the hell he wants. Fuck Dean. But here, he still cops to that hierarchical relationship that goes way back to their earliest days as children.<\/p>\n \n21st scene<\/big> \n \nHow the flashlight beam ricochets off the mirror at just the right angle so that we are not blinded. It looks completely natural but it takes intense coordination to place everything so that the cameras are not reflected back and that effect comes across. The whole scene is reminiscent of that final showdown in Lady From Shanghai<\/i> with the endless mirrors. <\/p>\n \n \nThey find Mary’s mirror, leaning on the floor, surrounded by other mirrors, reflecting the blackness of the shadows and two hanging crystal chandeliers above.<\/p>\n \n \nDean still doesn’t like the plan, but Sam, filled now with the secret he has been keeping, will not be stopped. Maybe he wants to unload, and it’s better to unload it here, where it can be of use to somebody else, as opposed to share it with his brother, who would just freak out. Sam says “Bloody Mary” into the mirror three times and then the two wait for something to happen, for Mary to show. At that moment, car headlights sweep through the windows, creating a beautiful and ghostly effect, the white light almost seeming like a sentient being, flooding through the dark space, making all the objects into black-paper cut-out silhouettes. Beautiful!<\/p>\n \n \nDean leaves Sam standing at the mirror and goes outside to talk to whoever is out there. It’s two cops. The alarm had been tripped. Dean, as has been established, is a terrible liar, and does poorly in these situations where he needs to bluff. Obviously this does not apply at the poker table where he wins big, but in these improvisational situations he always comes off looking like a jagoff. He puts on a really big “hey man it’s all cool” vibe, and he’s also all smiles, (mini Batting-Eyelashes-Tracking-Code), hoping he can charm them, because that’s what he does. It makes him seem totally suspicious. <\/p>\n Now comes my favorite teensy moment in the episode. It’s a glance, that’s all. But it’s comedic as hell. <\/p>\n Dean tells the cops he’s the boss’ son. The cops share a quick glance, and one of them says, “You’re Mr. Yamashiro’s son?” <\/p>\n Dean, frozen, doesn’t respond, and then does this “Come again?” expression, like, “Could you repeat what you just said, I didn’t get that \u2026” merely to buy more time. Like I said, I realize I am easily pleased, but that’s the thing with comedy. If it makes me laugh, I love it, and that bullshit “Come again?” thing that Dean does, which makes him look super crazy and sketch, is so funny to me. <\/p>\n \n \nIt can’t be captured in a screen grab, because, as with a lot of Jensen Ackles’ stuff, it is the contrast between silent moments that makes it funny. His face is one way, and then it morphs, due to some interior conversation going on that we are not privy to. This is what I mean when I talk about “schtick”<\/a>, and how good he is at it. It comes naturally to him. Good schtick always comes out of reality, however absurd. <\/p>\n Meanwhile, as Dean stalls, badly, Sam stands at the mirror, and Mary suddenly appears in one of the mirrors adjacent. Sam swings his fire-iron and smashes the mirror. She appears in another one, he smashes that. He is waiting for her to appear in “her” mirror, the mirror that matters. Nerves of steel, this boy. <\/p>\n Then, something strange and awful starts happening. Sam realizes that the reflection of himself staring back at him seems \u2026 different. It seems to have a life of its own, and although it is still his face, the entire expression has changed. It’s cold and hard. And a drop of gooey blood runs down the reflection’s cheek. Sam’s own eyes start to bleed, and his throat closes up. The reflection remains upright, but Sam drops the fire-iron and falls to the ground in agony. <\/p>\n There will be other scenes, throughout this series, where one or the other brother is faced with a doppelg\u00e4nger, or a future self, or a nightmare self. Some of the best scenes in the entire series are of this kind, one with Dean meeting himself in a dream, and one, in Season 5’s superb “The End”, with Dean meeting himself 5 years in the future. If Supernatural<\/i> were a show that got awards attention, then Jensen Ackles would have been nominated for an Emmy for “The End”, for his double-duty work in that scene in the cabin. One of the best scenes in the entire series, and it’s Jensen Ackles playing it with himself. The mind boggles. Sam also has meetings with himself, one in particular, a standoff in the woods which is pretty terrifying if you think of being confronted by one side of yourself that wants to kill off the other side, which is YOU. The show has a lot of fun with this idea, and here is our first glimpse of it.<\/p>\n \n \nThe reflection, whose voice is and is not Sam’s, says, “It’s your fault. You killed her.” Get ready for the big Third-Act explanatory monologue!<\/p>\n Back out on the street, Dean Yamashiro is batting his eyelashes, now desperately, laughing, explaining that he was adopted, and that’s why, yeah, that’s why his name is \u2026 yeah, that’s it \u2026 and the cops clearly don’t believe a word of it. Would you? Finally, as we’ve seen before, Dean throws out the Batting-Eyelashes when it clearly isn’t working, and says to himself, “I don’t have time for this,” and punches both cops in the face. <\/p>\n Back inside, Bloody-Eyeball-Sam continues his accusatory monologue, as Sam heaves for breath, his face streaked with blood. “You didn’t tell her the truth about who you were. But it’s more than that, isn’t it. Those nightmares you’ve been having? You had them for days before she died. Didn’t you.”<\/em><\/p>\n Sam Winchester, that is one hell of a secret. <\/p>\n \n \nThat’s the shot I mentioned before, how the reflection is slightly distorted, showing that inner psychological split. <\/p>\n Dean doesn’t corner the market in guilt, and now Sam’s reflection pours on the accusation: “How could you ignore those dreams? How could you leave her alone to die? You dreamt it would happen!” <\/p>\n These “dreams” of Sam will take over the next arc of the series. It’s terrifying, no wonder Sam is in denial about it. Dean, having knocked out the pesky cops, returns and smashes the mirror. Urgent and scared, he crouches next to his brother, saying, “Sammy \u2026 Sammy”. Sam, blood still on his face, corrects Dean: “It’s Sam.” Wonderful moment, that both gives a flash of comedy in a pretty brutal scene, but connects us back to that hierarchical relationship of the Winchester brothers and Sam starting to buck against that. Dean helps Sam up and they start to stagger out of the shop, the shop they have now destroyed. <\/p>\n Then, horror of horrors, we see a shadowy hand creep out of the now-empty mirror frame, a perfect copy of the most awful shot from The Ring<\/i>, a shot I can’t even think about without wanting to go screaming into the night. I’m having flashbacks just looking at it.<\/p>\n \n \n \nI’m still actually not sure, then, what “Mary” is. A spirit? A ghost? She’s clearly not attached to the object. And when the glass is smashed. She still exists. I need “Dad’s journal” to do some more research because fuck if I know what’s going on. <\/p>\n She crawls across the jagged glass, in that freaky-ass stop-motion way the series often uses for ghosts\/spirits, and Dean and Sam stop, frozen, and turn around. She has now stood up, and she looks formidable, awful, and the last remaining shreds of sanity I have would be wiped out of my head if I ever came across her in my own hallway. <\/p>\n When she “manifests”, both Sam and Dean start struggling, their eyes bleeding, their throats closing up. Interesting. So what the hell is Dean’s “secret”? I mean, he has a ton, obviously, HE’S allowed privacy when nobody else is. But the fact that his eyes bleed too is not made into a “thing” in the episode, and I like that. It leaves a lot of space, it leaves a lot of questions unanswered. So the brothers fall to the floor as she approaches, and they’re writhing around, and honestly, are those cops awake yet out on the sidewalk? What, is Dean Apollo Creed or something? <\/p>\n Dean, a desperate man, holds up a mirror so that Well-Chick-Mary can see herself, which reminds me of an episode of Gilligan’s Island<\/i> which involves a creature whose name I refuse to say, that lives in a cave, and in order to scare it back into the darkness they hold a mirror up so it can see itself. <\/p>\n \n \nWe finally see her face, we see how young and pretty she was, even with the gnarly hair and poor hygiene and terrible well-chick demeanor. Her reflection sneers, “You killed all those people” and the Mary out in the room shatters into a million pieces.<\/p>\n The curse ended, the brothers lie there and recover, and Dean looks around the destroyed room, at all the smashed mirrors. <\/p>\n \n \nAnd what he says next he does not say with a snark, a joke, or any of the other cliches often used by Tough-Guys-Fighting-Crime series, where the heroes are never ever freaked out by what happened, who always maintain their cool, who wisecrack their way through the most violent situations. Dean certainly wisecracks (he’s the Han Solo of the series, after all), but not always<\/i>, and it’s the key to his weird vulnerable appeal. There is something in him that is deeply unstable. So, too, with Sam, but he doesn’t seem<\/i> so. <\/p>\n Dean, staring at the carnage, says, “Sam?” Sam is still recovering but looks over at his brother. Dean is somehow sucked in to the scene before him, and says, “This has got to be, what, 600 years of bad luck right there?” <\/p>\n He actually sounds worried. He is not superstitious, and he is not religious, but he believes in the supernatural. He cannot discount folklore and legends and the scene before him gives him a very bad feeling. Having seen the whole damn series, you don’t blame him.<\/p>\n \n22nd scene<\/big><\/p>\n \nThe Impala peels into a cul-de-sac, and you want to say, “Dude, this is a neighborhood. Slow the fuck down.” Sam and Dean pull up in front of Charlie’s house and there is a poignant moment as they all sit there, relieved it is over. As Charlie walks up to her house, Sam calls out to her, and says, “Your boyfriend’s death. It wasn’t your fault. You should try to forgive yourself.” After Charlie goes inside, Dean whacks Sam gently on the shoulder and says, “That’s good advice.”<\/p>\n \n \nIt’s a bit too on-the-nose for my taste, and the show usually avoids it, but the potential “we have all learned something important” smarminess of the moment is completely undercut by what happens next. So this makes me think that the writers set that up deliberately. They lead you into a sense of safety, give us a cliched moment of “Hey, here is what we have all learned”, and then proceed to completely destroy that illusion of safety in the final scene. Supernatural<\/i> does not want you to feel safe, Supernatural<\/i> does not want you to relax or feel comfortable. You may get moments of it in the show, but overall, it wants you to be deeply uneasy. If the show had ended with Dean saying, “Hey \u2026 what you just said to Charlie \u2026 you should say to yourself \u2026” Well, you know, he plays it well, Sam plays it well, they’ve certainly earned the moment, although it’s on the verge of being cheesy, but the episode wouldn’t have left you with that terrifying feeling that \u2026 something really really bad is happening. Still.<\/p>\n But here’s what happens next. As Sam speaks to Charlie, slowly, underneath, we hear “Laugh I Nearly Died” by the Rolling Stones (the choice of music is perfection, it’s so melancholy and thoughtful, with an undertone of uneasiness.) It draws you in. The scene with Charlie in the driveway and the brothers driving away FEELS like it is the last scene. In a more boring traditional show, it would have been the last scene. But Episode 5 has one more scene to go.<\/p>\n As the brothers drive off, there’s a sort of soft feeling in the air between them, the lines of communication somehow open, not tensed up and protected. Dean says that now that everything is over, “I want you to tell me what that secret was.” <\/p>\n \n \nSam isn’t pissed. He knew this question was coming, he knows his brother, and it’s almost funny, because Dean is right on time with it. But he lays down some boundaries: “Look. You’re my brother, and I’d die for you. But there are just some things I need to keep to myself.” Dean, all tense again, doesn’t say anything, and his eyes sort of flicker around as he drives, hating every second of what Sam just said. Who is this strong MAN sitting next to him? He hates it. The Stones are still playing, and they’re gaining in power, they’re starting to take over. <\/p>\n Sam, even though the secret he is keeping is pretty bad, leans back in the seat, with a sense of peace that he has set that boundary and he handled it and he saved Charlie with it. The moment is not long-lasting, because then, like his nightmare come to life, he sees Jess, in a white nightdress, standing on the sidewalk, staring at the car as it approaches. <\/p>\n \n \nSam, all peace, all serenity shattered, stares, and he doesn’t know what he is seeing, he doesn’t know if it’s a dream or if it’s real. The look on her face is serious and somewhat unreadable. She’s not furious, or upset. She’s just staring<\/i> unblinkingly at him as the car passes by her. Dean clearly takes the right-hand turn on that street, and Jess is there on one side of the telephone pole, and then is not there when the car passes the pole. The music is deafening now, and right at that point, with Sam staring out the window in horror, Jagger sings, “So I’ll say my goodbye \u2026” <\/p>\n Seriously. That’s how you use a song effectively. The whole sequence is so disturbing. Both men left alone with the opening-up of the schism between them, in their lives, in their worlds. The screen goes to black, and we hear the roar of the Impala as it drives off. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Directed by Peter Ellis Written by Ron Milbauer & Terri Burton Episode 5 is as dark as the pilot, even darker in some scenes. You barely see a face in clear view. Color is so drained out of the frame … Continue reading <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nToledo, Ohio
\nThree tween-age girls sit in a candlelit room, giggling and playing Truth or Dare. Little Lily Shoemaker (Genevieve Buechner) is dared to go into the bathroom and say “Bloody Mary” into the mirror three times. Supposedly, if you do that, then “Mary” will come and scratch your eyes out! The girls giggle in glee. Girls love to be scared. Girls love to scream and spook themselves out. I know of what I speak. Light as a feather, stiff as a board, and etc., exeunt. So Lily goes into the bathroom, with only a candle, and says to herself at first, “This is so stupid”, but for some reason she’s terrified anyway. After saying “Bloody Mary” three times, nothing happens. Her friends bang on the bathroom door to scare her and she screams at the top of her lungs, and her friends burst into cackles of laughter and it’s all good times, good times, until Dad calls down the stairs to keep it down. “Sorry, Daddy!” Lily calls apologetically. Dad heads off down the hallway, and the second the camera follows him you know he’s done for. The hallway upstairs is gloomy and spooky, with no less than 3 mirrors on the hall, and we see a hunched-over female figure in each one, and it’s just phenomenally spooky.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nJess, pinned on the ceiling, Sam lying in bed below. Just as we saw in the pilot. Although now everything is lit in ghostly blue. Sam stares up at Jessica, gasping, and we hear her voice whisper, “Why, Sam?” <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nEerie piano music accompanies the guys as they walk down a pitch-black hallway with musty light streaming through the one window, and the lit-up word MORGUE showing up against the blackness. Supernatural<\/i> reminds us again and again that this show is not meant to be kitchen-sink realism. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nDean and Sam walk down the stairs in the hospital and they are filming directly into the light so that they are totally in shadow. It’s an awesome-looking shot (done all in one, as well). They talk about Liquid-Eyeballs man, and Sam wonders if maybe it’s just a “freak medical thing”. Dean says, “How many times in Dad’s long varied career has it been a freak medical thing?”<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nSam and Dean crash the wake for Mr. Shoemaker, and it feels a bit like that scene in Sixth Sense<\/i>, where Mischa Barton is under the bed. Two underdressed strangers crashing a private family event. There’s a mirror in every scene. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nDean and Sam snoop around in the upstairs bathroom while the wake goes on downstairs. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nLibrary alert! I’ve written before about my love of Supernatural<\/i>‘s clear acknowledgement that public libraries in small towns still serve a very important purpose. That libraries are wonderful and necessary. J’adore. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nCharlie, driving at night, is on the phone with blonde Jill (Chelan Simmons) whose nipples perked up at the sight of Sam and Dean at the wake. Charlie is clearly freaked out and filling her in on what the guys said to her. And maybe “Bloody Mary” does have something to do with it? Jill is insouciant and laughing, making fun of Charlie, and if you’ve seen one horror movie, you already know that she will pay for not taking it seriously. Besides, the camera placement in Jill’s bedroom tells us the whole story. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nBack to ghostly-blue Jess on the ceiling again, exploding into waves of blue flame. Her voice, clearer now, keeps repeating: “Why, Sam?”<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\n2. Sam doesn’t want to be “looked out for”. He doesn’t need it.
\n3. Neither of them can talk about feelings with one another. Sam is better with “feelings”, in general, but to admit “weakness” to his brother is not something he wants to do. Also, he has a secret. A secret that will continue to have repercussions through this and the next season. If he lets Dean in a little bit, could he let him in all the way? Dean will panic, Dean won’t react well.
\n4. Dean is great and protective and earnest and means well but he is also a dumbass. The protective stuff may work with a 5-year-old but Sam will just clam up if he treats him that way. Dean doesn’t realize that the protective thing he does can actually feel like a bulldozer to the person being protected. Remember how he kept Lisa and Ben under lockdown in the house and lied to them that he was even doing that? He felt perfectly justified in locking them up. It was for their protection. Dean takes away a person’s ability to choose for him\/herself. He cannot help it. It is his fatal flaw. <\/p>\n
\nCharlie sits on a bench, crying, with Sam and Dean hovering over her. There’s a nice dramatic crane shot coming down through the tree to land on them. They are all placed in shadow, a deliberate (and tricky) choice, especially in an exterior shot on what looks like a sunny day. It’s just so damn MOODY.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nCharlie comes into Jill’s bedroom, and lets Sam and Dean in through the window. Dean closes the blinds and the room is so dark we can barely see a damn thing. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nThey clearly break into the Shoemaker house, to go check out the back of the bathroom mirror where Mr. Shoemaker bit it. Even in small scenes like this, the creative team looks for ways to up the tension, through lighting and camera angles. It’s what helps the show stand out. They don’t do this so much anymore, the show has a much more traditional look and feel now, and I think it suffers because of that. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nDonna, the big sister who found her father on the bathroom floor, balks at whatever question Sam and Dean just asked about her mother. She is defensive and pissed. Linda Shoemaker was her mother, her mother overdosed on sleeping pills. It was an accident, now get out of my house. She storms off. Charlie, who becomes almost a third hunter during the course of the episode, is shocked and horrified and explains for the dumbbells in the audience (like myself) who may not get what is going on. “Do you really think Donna’s dad killed her mom?” <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nBack at the motel room, Dean hovers over the laptop, his face glowing blue in the surrounding black. He’s had it, there are no local stories, no local “Marys”, so he’s run a a nationwide search for any Mary who died in front of a mirror. Sam remains logical and on point, saying, “If she’s haunting the town, then she died in the town.” (I love how ghosts are set up as literal, logical, and extremely attached. It serves to highlight the attachments of the brothers, as well as their insanely UN-attached lifestyle where they fly under different names, and never stay in a town more than a couple of nights). Dean is printing shit out from these national crime databases, and I want his portable printer.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nWords on the screen now tell us we are in Fort Wayne. The brothers pay a call on the now-retired detective (William S. Taylor) who worked the case back in the day. It shouldn’t need to be said but the man lives in what is obviously the darkest house in Fort Wayne. The three stars of the scene can barely be discerned. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nRight about now, we are due for a re-appearance of Bloody Mary. Donna and Charlie meet up in the girls’ bathroom at school, and I love that the art department chose grey-black tiles for the whole thing. It plunges the scene into darkness, making it seem both familiar and “other” at the same time. Donna is still furious at Charlie for bringing those two sketchy guys around. Charlie, who now fully believes that “Bloody Mary” is behind this, is freaking out, and Donna pities her for it. To show Charlie that there is nothing to the dumb legend, Dumb Donna turns to the mirror and chants “Bloody Mary” three times. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nA masterpiece scene.Who knew there were so many reflective surfaces in a simple school classroom? Charlie sits in a chemistry class, still clearly upset, and pulls out her compact to check her face, and boom, standing right behind her in the mirror is Mary, who looks totally Well-Chick Awful. Charlie screams at the top of her lungs, and mayhem erupts. Charlie runs around, and in every reflective surface she sees, there is “Mary” behind her. As far as the class is concerned, she’s gone completely nuts. She picks up a stool and flings it through the window.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nDean and Sam are in the Impala, barreling back to Toledo from Fort Wayne. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nAnother beautiful scene.<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n
\nDean and Sam break into the antiques shop. It is filled with mirrors: all those reflective surfaces, all that darkness, the flashlight beams. <\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n