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llywelaMiracle of miracles, for the first time in what feels like a long time, I actually feel inspired to write about tv - maybe my meta isn't fatally broken after all. Kinda rough around the edges still, but I'm feeling my way back into it. Let us see if it lasts!
99 Problems as a title for the 99th episode? Nice one, Show – very cute.
Whoa, this was intense. You know, I always really enjoy it when an episode opens in media res, as this one does – means that the action and drama are off and running right from the start, instead of easing us into it gently, and it generally makes for quite the exciting episode. This was no exception. It was fast-paced and action-packed, not to mention heavy on the guest characters, each one of who was fully realised as an individual and contributed to the unfolding drama. It was also remarkably well balanced, overall, allowing us to understand the motivations and aspirations of every character, even the minor ones. They all felt like real people, not just two-dimensional bit part players. Equally, the brothers, Castiel…each of their perspectives was well served in a way that hasn't always happened this season.
It's been a long time coming, but I actually feel engaged by this show and these characters again, which is a huge relief after hating such a large swathe of the season. I loved this episode almost unreservedly; although angsty and depressing as hell, it was well written and carefully structured, with all of the principle character motivations coming through loud and clear, shaped both by those individuals' back story and by their experiences here, which is exactly how it should be. And now I actually feel myself relaxing somewhat. The season has been back on track for a few episodes now, but I have remained on my guard, not prepared to trust that improvement to last. I lost faith in the writers earlier in the season, and it's still hard to trust them again, but I feel excited about the show right now in a way that I haven't in far too long. After drifting aimlessly for more than half the season, there's now a clear sense of narrative direction, and it makes such a difference.
I have no doubt things will get worse before they get better – this is the run-in to the season finale, after all – but feel a lot more confident than I did that there is a plan to where it is all headed, a structured plan that is being built upon carefully rather than just thrown together any old how, which was how most of the first half of the season felt. I gather from bits and pieces that I have read that the brothers' arc for the season was changed during that first half, thanks to early renewal notice, and that was no doubt one of the principle reasons that first half of the season was such an aimless mess. But the story feels coherent again now – I might still not know where it's going, but do now feel that it is at least following a clearly defined path once more – and that's a big relief to me.
"We're the Sacrament Lutheran Militia. I hate to tell you this, but those were demons and this is the Apocalypse. So buckle up."
I kinda love the concept of the Sacrament Lutheran Militia – just average, ordinary townsfolk who have become aware of the Apocalypse, are beset by demons, and are banding together to help themselves. I love that opening sequence of them coming to the rescue of veteran hunters such as our boys, with their tricked out truck and the tank of holy water on the back and the power hose – especially because that idea was totally proposed by the JJs years ago, so it is all kinds of amusing to hear Dean calling it inspired.
"Whole town full of hunters: I don't know whether to run screaming or buy a condo." I love how awestruck the brothers are by the concept of a town full of people who not only know about demons and the Apocalypse but are actually taking pro-active measures to defend themselves, banding together in a common cause. The episode devoted a lot of time to establishing the key townsfolk, familiarising both the brothers and us with their set-up and interpersonal dynamics. The assault on the house full of demons was wonderfully choreographed – although I kept expecting someone to go down under friendly fire, it never happened, with the entire group covering one another's backs perfectly – and I could have cried for Sam's wistful little observation afterward: "I guess that's what it's like – having backup."
This is something that Show is rather fond of – showing the brothers something attractive and desirable, and then immediately taking it away again. Here, they are given just a tiny taste of what it would be like to work as part of a larger team, to have the support of a whole community behind them, just two hunters among many, all working together…but then, inevitably, it all almost immediately falls apart.
This is the Apocalypse. Of course there was going to be a darker side to the story of a town that had made itself into a community of hunters, as the faith that unites them is subverted with ease into something far more sinister. There are strong parallels with Good God, Y'All, as once more we are shown how easily fear and desperation can cause ordinary people to turn on one another, with fatal consequences. Mob mentality.
And yet…I like that even the character of Jane is allowed to remain three-dimensional and sympathetic throughout. The episode uses her to symbolise the worst of the atrocities these ordinary people can be persuaded to commit, yet her motivations and internal conflict remain apparent throughout. We are shown just what her son meant to her, we are shown her devastation at his death, we are shown her doubt and remorse, and we are shown just how desperate she is to cling to the hope the false prophet gives her that she will be able to see him again if only she obeys. She clings to that, tries hard to close her eyes to all other considerations – it isn't noble, but it is very human and very real, something that we can understand. The face of that destructive, murderous mob is a person just like us.
The 'whore of Babylon' might be a title calculated to strike outrage into the heart of every feminist who ever accused the show of misogyny (and I would lay money that the writers did that on purpose, because their collective sense of humour is like that) but is taken from the Bible, and the concept is used quite cleverly to further both the episode plot and seasonal mytharc. Leah was well written, so that we are able to clearly see each step of her slow, careful seduction of the townsfolk as she lures them toward their damnation, all in the name of God and with the promise of paradise. False prophet indeed.
"It must be hard…being the vessel of heaven and having no hope."
Dean's story over the last couple of seasons reminds me of nothing so much as a quote from AtS – don't try to tell us there is no way to go but up, because the truth is there is always more down. Every time we think we have seen Dean hit rock bottom, it turns out that it was just another ledge to slam into as he hurtled past on that downward spiral he's been on pretty much ever since we first met him. No matter how bad things got for him, there was always more down. This time, though, it looks like this might finally be it – he has finally hit the ultimate rock bottom, fallen as low as it is possible to go.
Dean's depression has been a constant feature of the show since season two, and has been escalating pretty much ever since his return from hell – no one could be surprised at that, either, given everything that he's been through. In fact it is little short of miraculous that he has kept going this long. We have seen him hit breaking point on numerous occasions, but he has always managed to pull himself back from the brink, has always managed to pick himself up again somehow and keep trudging on. But he just can't do it any more. It was always a question of when he would reach the point of no return, not if, the last several episodes have been very clearly spelling that fact out for us, and this is it. In fact, last week was it – it just takes this episode for that fact to sink in enough for him to act on it.
In the face of Sam's growing concern and alarm, Dean spells his position out for us several times during the episode. He no longer has any hope whatsoever. He believes, absolutely, that the world is ending, that every living soul thereon will be dead within just a few short weeks, and that every last possibility for preventing this wholesale carnage has now been exhausted.
"It must be nice, being Chosen." We are shown that Dean is very attracted by the description of the paradise on earth Leah presents for the Chosen – no pain, no suffering and no death, just eternity with their loved ones – and can easily understand why he find this so appealing, given that he has seen what awaits him after death. That the vision is later invalidated by the revelation of Leah's true nature is immaterial – it has already served its purpose by showing us how much Dean longs for that kind of surcease, and this especially feeds into his reaction when Sam tries to engage his interest in thwarting the downward spiral the town is clearly in by this time. Sam argues that they cannot allow the angels – who they believe at the time to be responsible – to toy with people in this way. Dean's counter-argument is that 'the angels have got the only life boat in the Titanic', and I think that's the key to Dean's mindset in this episode, right there. He believes completely that there is no way to win. The ship is sinking, and the angels represent the only possible lifeboat, so why not stand back and allow a few souls to jump aboard, no matter what the cost? "Who exactly is supposed to come along and save these people? It's supposed to be us, but we can't do it," he says, an admission of absolute defeat. Saving people has always been the core of Dean's very being, so to hear him giving up on that lifelong mission is chilling.
Thus by the time Leah's deception is exposed, Dean has already come to feel that the angels now represent the last remaining possibility of saving at least some of the world's population. It circles back to one of his earliest disputes with Zachariah this season. At the time Dean expressed outrage at the prospect of how many millions of humans were likely to die in the crossfire if he gave in to Michael, but Zachariah's response was that if Lucifer remained unchecked he would roast the planet alive and everyone would die. Right now Dean finds himself staring the prospect of that absolute planetary devastation in the face, and the potential bloodshed that might come from giving in to Michael pales in comparison. We should remember also that last week Dean was offered compelling evidence that even those that die in the confrontation aren't necessarily getting such a raw deal if they end up in heaven, which both Ash and Pamela seemed to enjoy so much - just another factor among many feeding into this capitulation.
So what's right and what's wrong in this situation? I don't think Dean even knows any more – all he sees is that if they are about to lose the whole planet anyway, then what the hell is he even fighting for?
Throughout the episode it is clear that Dean is just going through the motions now, just waiting for it all to be over, unable to bring himself to really care about anything much, because what difference does any of it make if everyone is going to be dead in a few weeks anyway? He has a few brighter moments where he almost manages to engage, because caring about the people he meets is wired into his DNA, but for the most part those moments, such as the death of the boy Dylan, serve only to remind him that allowing himself to care leads only to still more pain and loss.
Dean does manage to rouse himself from his funk enough to offer Castiel a little much-needed sympathy and support, and they share a nice little scene together; there's a light little touch of humour, as Dean recommends that Castiel might need the entire bottle of aspirin for his hangover, but there is also their shared despair and tacit acknowledgement that they are simply going through the motions at this point, but might as well continue to go through those motions, for now at least.
"I've been there. I'm a big expert on deadbeat dads. So I get it. I know how you feel." That's twice in as many episodes that Dean has referred to John as a deadbeat dad, and I find that interesting because it is so very new. Even when Dean was at his angriest at John, and although his regard for his father has been slowly but surely whittled away ever since John's death, he has never before described him in this way, and it seems to me that this is more a manifestation of the disillusionment and anger he currently feels than a judgement of John specifically. With God apparently having rejected his creation completely, thus destroying the last faltering hope Dean had to cling to, Dean is lashing out against father figures in general, drawing no distinctions between them, and no longer willing to make any excuses or to even attempt to understand their motivations. Where once he compared
God-as-a-father-figure with John, a parallel that helped him to empathise with Castiel's position in the abstract, because he still didn't really believe in God anyway, he is now lumping John under the same banner as God, who he now believes in completely, but is furious with. His loss of faith is absolute, and the already badly tarnished memory of his father is damaged still more as a result.
The moment when Dean kills Leah is incredibly powerful, because the entire episode has been carefully set-up to allow us to immediately comprehend the full implications. We have been told in no uncertain terms that only a true servant of God can kill her. We have also been told that Dean should not qualify, disobedient to heaven's wishes as he is. So when he achieves the kill…man, what that means hits hard. No wonder Sam is so alarmed.
"Are you going to do something stupid?"
"Like what?"
"Like Michael stupid."
Tellingly, Dean does not deny Sam's accusation. Dean's story in this episode is the story of a man who is giving up – and with five episodes of the season still to go, I am very excited to see what happens next! As for that final scene…it came a little out of the blue, perhaps, but wasn't after all quite so surprising as all that, being entirely in character for Dean.
Dean has decided to surrender, has chosen to give up his life, body and soul, to the service of heaven, for better or for worse – the ultimate sacrifice, from a man who has spent his entire life sacrificing bits of himself, one way or another. Having made up his mind to do this, it makes sense that he would wish to set his house in order before going through with it. He can't say any goodbyes to Sam, Bobby or Castiel, however, the three people he is closest to, because all three would try to stop him. But who else does he have in his life? No one, and how sad is that? He does, however, have a dream, a wistful little fantasy of the life he would have so loved to build for himself, which was never possible – a fantasy he once denied even to himself but which has become ever stronger since he began to acknowledge it. Dean is a family man at heart. He fought for years to preserve what was left of the family he was born into, and although he has only rarely allowed himself to even entertain the idea of creating a new family of his own, deep down it is something he has longed for.
The one serious relationship we know Dean has had was with Cassie, but it was clear in Route 666 that he was more in love with the idea of the relationship than the woman herself, who could never be what he wanted, needed her to be. It was a pipe dream, but Cassie's image was for a time inserted into that dream as the closest he'd ever come. And then along came Lisa Braden, a former lover he remembered with fondness who turned out to have a child that could very easily have been his, and she has taken Cassie's place in Dean's heart ever since. Lisa fits perfectly into that wistful little fantasy of Dean's in a way that Cassie never could, and we have been shown that as a result she has since come to embody his regrets over the life he never got to have. That being the case, perhaps it isn't so surprising after all that he would wish to make her the person he says his goodbyes to, letting go of that one last worldly tie before surrendering himself to Michael.
Dean's conversation with Lisa is important for a number of reasons. It is important because it allows Dean to spell out for us what he intends to do – not just that he has decided to give in and say yes to Michael, but that he intends to bargain with the angels, using the promise of his consent as collateral. He thinks he has the power to do this because he has something that the angels want very badly. Whether or not it will be that simple, of course, is another matter entirely and still remains to be seen. The conversation is also important because it allows Dean to express something of what he is thinking and feeling in a way we rarely get to see. The conversation reflects well on Lisa, who is startled to see Dean – reminding us that in fact they barely know one another – but instantly perceives that something is badly wrong and tries hard to talk him down off that ledge, even without understanding what he is talking about. And then there is that message that we see Dean whispering into her ear before he leaves – doubtless we will find out sooner or later just what he was saying. A message for Sam, perhaps? Time will tell.
Dean is in a very, very bad place right now. Hopefully Sam – who may not have the car but does have Castiel – can get to him before it is too late.
"No, you can't do this to me. I've got one thing – one thing keeping me going. You think you're the only one white-knuckling it here, Dean? I can't count on anyone else. I can't do this alone."
The flip-flopping role reversal that goes on in this show never ceases to amaze me, not least because it always stems so naturally from ongoing character and plot development and is rarely if ever forced. After the roller-coaster ride of the last season or two, all of a sudden Sam has become the one who doesn't trust his brother out of his sight for a second – and with good reason, given Dean's defeated mindset.
Sam's concern over Dean's depression and what it might lead to is palpable throughout the episode. Sam himself remains all fired up to keep fighting for as long as it takes. He isn't allowing himself to look at the apparent hopelessness of their position, instead focused wholly on fighting on for as long as he has breath, channelling all his fear and desperation into anger and resolve. Never before has Sam's single-minded determination and obsessive personality been such a strength. It shines through throughout the episode, most strongly in his interactions with Dean but also in his conversation with the bartender, as he admits that he is a believer but nonetheless is "pretty sure that God stopped caring a long time ago." That Sam can accept this as truth and not let it defeat him is testament to his strength of character.
Equally, it is rather telling that it is Sam who makes contact with Castiel and asks for his help, rather than Dean, who has always had the closer bond with the angel. Although not the first time we've seen Sam communicating with Castiel, it clearly signifies what a driving force Sam has become in comparison to the retreat of the other two into depression – who would have thought, this time last season, that Sam would now be the most well-balanced of the bunch! Even Castiel's blunt description of him as an abomination cannot dent his resolve. It has taken a long time, but Sam has learned to accept the corruption of his physical self and seems to have come to terms with it about as much as is possible – tellingly, he shows not the slightest sign of temptation when surrounded by demon blood during the battle. Plus, crucially, where the message Dean and Castiel took from the last episode was one of rejection, Sam, in contrast, learned that he had been granted salvation in spite of his corruption. He is buoyed by that fact – a life raft of hope for him to cling to amid stormy seas.
Sam's growth and maturity since last season are clearly apparent throughout the episode. This time last year, weighed down by his own emotional baggage and corrupted by his demon-blood addiction, Sam looked upon his brother's brokenness with contempt, unable to see past his own issues to sympathise with Dean's or to recognise how much strength his brother still displayed. Things are different now. Having fallen so badly himself, Sam is able now to understand Dean's despair in a way he never could before, as well as to recognise and appreciate the strength that has kept his brother going this far. He is also able now to empathise when he sees Dean faltering, where once he might have reacted with frustration and disdain. Dean has been broken but that wasn't his fault, Sam understands that now, understands also that he is one of the ones who helped to break his brother. He has been trying and trying but he just can't repair that damage, and it's tearing him apart. Now he sees Dean teetering right on the brink and he is terrified. And rightly so.
"Who says they're all going to die. What happened to saving them?" Bless him, Sam keeps on and on poking and prodding at Dean throughout the episode, trying every way he can think of to break through those layers of depression and provoke a reaction, using every tool at his disposal – reminding Dean of his mission, reminding Dean of the reasons he should keep holding out against Michael, and spelling out clearly the effect giving up would have on Sam himself, which once upon a time would have been the ultimate deal-breaker for Dean. I love Sam for trying so damn hard, and hurt for him quite desperately that he remains unable to reach his brother just when he needs to the most. He is trying so hard to hang in there and be strong, terrified not only of what giving in would do to Dean but of what it would mean for himself.
Last season Sam believed in his own strength absolutely, and that confidence was used against him in the cruellest way possible, subverting his efforts to prevent the Apocalypse into the catalyst for Lucifer's release. That experience taught him fear and humility. He no longer trusts in his own strength at all. Recent episodes have shown us how desperately Sam needs – or believes he needs – to lean on the strength of the people around him, namely Dean and Bobby, also Castiel, while also showing us equally clearly that this support base is being whittled away, slowly but surely. Like a lame man watching termites chew through his crutches, Sam sees his support group faltering, one by one, and is terrified that without them he will fall – straight into Lucifer's clutches. In this episode we not only see that fear, but also see him use that fear as a tool to try to reach his brother – and he is right to do so, because once upon a time Dean would have made the effort for Sam's sake where he would not for himself. But not any more, alas, and so Sam's increasingly desperate efforts to get through to him are all in vain.
Powerfully, Sam's part in the episode ends with him being given a very bitter taste of his own medicine from last season, as Dean lies to him in order to sneak away and leave him behind – and Sam knows enough to be very afraid of what his brother will do next. This means that Sam no longer has the option of being afraid to trust in himself, no longer has the luxury of relying on his brother to be strong on his behalf. It is time for Sam to step up and become the man he always wanted to be, a man capable of being strong for the people he loves – a man who loves his brother enough to catch him when he falls.
Dean has taken the car, but Sam still has Castiel. All hope is not yet lost, but what little remains is in Sam's possession. Time will tell what he does with it!
"I got your message. Long message. I found the sound of your voice grating."
Following on from his absolute loss of faith last week, the Castiel we see in this episode has begun his slow descent into becoming the drug-addled, hedonistic individual we met in the future in The End, aided and abetted by, apparently, the contents of an entire liquor store. Given how many shots we saw him put away without effect in Abandon All Hope, it is hardly surprising that it would take this much alcohol for him to get so drunk! Castiel's drunkenness serves a dual purpose: it provides what little comic relief the episode contains, while also very clearly conveying the depth of the angel's despair. Like Dean, Castiel has pretty much hit rock bottom. Also like Dean, he has been heading in this direction for most of the season, his faith and conviction slowly but surely whittled away at every turn.
It is always a pleasure to see Castiel and Sam interacting one-on-one. The fleshing out of this particular dynamic is long overdue, so it was fascinating to see the interplay between the two in this episode – especially since I believe this was the first time we have actually seen them alone together.
Castiel does not exactly rush to respond to Sam's message, and this lengthy delay tells us just as much about the angel's mindset as does the drunken state in which he eventually shows up. Like Dean, Castiel is just about past caring now, believing that they have pretty much already lost and no longer have any chance at all of defeating Lucifer. Once he is there, though, although his attitude is generally hostile and surly, his interest in the case is fairly easily piqued, and we get to see him bonding with Sam over the books as they attempt to figure out what's going on – and even see him express amusement over am Enochian joke. Yet his underlying despair is palpable throughout. Like Dean, Castiel is just going through the motions now, marking time until the end.
Castiel's desolation is at its most apparent when possibilities for killing the Whore of Babylon are discussed. Only a true servant of heaven can kill her, and Castiel – that once proud and mighty angel of the Lord – is immediately discounted, rebel as he is. When he makes himself known to Pastor Dave, a slumped, rumpled figure, the contrast between this Castiel and the Castiel who first introduced himself to Dean is stark. The bitterness in his tone as he tells Pastor Dave that he isn't much of an angel is painful to hear.
Thus far, Castiel is still able to rally himself to come to the aid of Sam and Dean when they call for him. Just how much longer he can keep that up remains to be seen – but with Dean on the verge of surrendering himself to Michael, they are surely going to need him more now than ever!
"Don't ask stupid questions."
Some random other thoughts about the episode.
1. Cindy Sampson's name in the credits might have been necessary, but was a bit of a giveaway (as of course was her place in the recap). I spent the entire episode just waiting for her to show up!
2. I really liked the bartender, Paul. So I suppose it figures that he'd end up dead.
3. Dean might be at rock bottom, but he still can't quite stop himself from flirting with a pretty girl – even one who appears to be a prophet and whose father is standing right alongside her!
4. It has been implied for much of this season that Dean is increasingly drowning his sorrows in alcohol. We haven't seen him drunk, though, as I recall. Interestingly, then, although in this episode we see the brothers having a beer together a couple of times (neither of them happy occasions), Sam is the one who goes out and gets drunk; when he returns to the motel, Dean is drinking coffee. I wonder if this means that Dean is now past even trying to bury himself in alcohol – it just isn't working, so he's given up the effort, along with everything else.
5. Aww, I love that in spite of everything Dean and Sam still chink their beer cans together before drinking. That's cute.
6. Castiel: "I found a liquor store. And I drank it."
Sam: "Are you okay?"
Castiel: "Don't ask stupid questions."
7. I know that it is an established part of the character now, but I really wish Misha Collins wouldn't put on that ultra-deep, grating voice for Castiel – it hurts just to listen to him!
And...that's all folks. I'm pretty sure there's more that could be said about this episode, but I'm all talked out for now. Here's hoping the next one is just as good!
99 Problems as a title for the 99th episode? Nice one, Show – very cute.
Whoa, this was intense. You know, I always really enjoy it when an episode opens in media res, as this one does – means that the action and drama are off and running right from the start, instead of easing us into it gently, and it generally makes for quite the exciting episode. This was no exception. It was fast-paced and action-packed, not to mention heavy on the guest characters, each one of who was fully realised as an individual and contributed to the unfolding drama. It was also remarkably well balanced, overall, allowing us to understand the motivations and aspirations of every character, even the minor ones. They all felt like real people, not just two-dimensional bit part players. Equally, the brothers, Castiel…each of their perspectives was well served in a way that hasn't always happened this season.
It's been a long time coming, but I actually feel engaged by this show and these characters again, which is a huge relief after hating such a large swathe of the season. I loved this episode almost unreservedly; although angsty and depressing as hell, it was well written and carefully structured, with all of the principle character motivations coming through loud and clear, shaped both by those individuals' back story and by their experiences here, which is exactly how it should be. And now I actually feel myself relaxing somewhat. The season has been back on track for a few episodes now, but I have remained on my guard, not prepared to trust that improvement to last. I lost faith in the writers earlier in the season, and it's still hard to trust them again, but I feel excited about the show right now in a way that I haven't in far too long. After drifting aimlessly for more than half the season, there's now a clear sense of narrative direction, and it makes such a difference.
I have no doubt things will get worse before they get better – this is the run-in to the season finale, after all – but feel a lot more confident than I did that there is a plan to where it is all headed, a structured plan that is being built upon carefully rather than just thrown together any old how, which was how most of the first half of the season felt. I gather from bits and pieces that I have read that the brothers' arc for the season was changed during that first half, thanks to early renewal notice, and that was no doubt one of the principle reasons that first half of the season was such an aimless mess. But the story feels coherent again now – I might still not know where it's going, but do now feel that it is at least following a clearly defined path once more – and that's a big relief to me.
"We're the Sacrament Lutheran Militia. I hate to tell you this, but those were demons and this is the Apocalypse. So buckle up."
I kinda love the concept of the Sacrament Lutheran Militia – just average, ordinary townsfolk who have become aware of the Apocalypse, are beset by demons, and are banding together to help themselves. I love that opening sequence of them coming to the rescue of veteran hunters such as our boys, with their tricked out truck and the tank of holy water on the back and the power hose – especially because that idea was totally proposed by the JJs years ago, so it is all kinds of amusing to hear Dean calling it inspired.
"Whole town full of hunters: I don't know whether to run screaming or buy a condo." I love how awestruck the brothers are by the concept of a town full of people who not only know about demons and the Apocalypse but are actually taking pro-active measures to defend themselves, banding together in a common cause. The episode devoted a lot of time to establishing the key townsfolk, familiarising both the brothers and us with their set-up and interpersonal dynamics. The assault on the house full of demons was wonderfully choreographed – although I kept expecting someone to go down under friendly fire, it never happened, with the entire group covering one another's backs perfectly – and I could have cried for Sam's wistful little observation afterward: "I guess that's what it's like – having backup."
This is something that Show is rather fond of – showing the brothers something attractive and desirable, and then immediately taking it away again. Here, they are given just a tiny taste of what it would be like to work as part of a larger team, to have the support of a whole community behind them, just two hunters among many, all working together…but then, inevitably, it all almost immediately falls apart.
This is the Apocalypse. Of course there was going to be a darker side to the story of a town that had made itself into a community of hunters, as the faith that unites them is subverted with ease into something far more sinister. There are strong parallels with Good God, Y'All, as once more we are shown how easily fear and desperation can cause ordinary people to turn on one another, with fatal consequences. Mob mentality.
And yet…I like that even the character of Jane is allowed to remain three-dimensional and sympathetic throughout. The episode uses her to symbolise the worst of the atrocities these ordinary people can be persuaded to commit, yet her motivations and internal conflict remain apparent throughout. We are shown just what her son meant to her, we are shown her devastation at his death, we are shown her doubt and remorse, and we are shown just how desperate she is to cling to the hope the false prophet gives her that she will be able to see him again if only she obeys. She clings to that, tries hard to close her eyes to all other considerations – it isn't noble, but it is very human and very real, something that we can understand. The face of that destructive, murderous mob is a person just like us.
The 'whore of Babylon' might be a title calculated to strike outrage into the heart of every feminist who ever accused the show of misogyny (and I would lay money that the writers did that on purpose, because their collective sense of humour is like that) but is taken from the Bible, and the concept is used quite cleverly to further both the episode plot and seasonal mytharc. Leah was well written, so that we are able to clearly see each step of her slow, careful seduction of the townsfolk as she lures them toward their damnation, all in the name of God and with the promise of paradise. False prophet indeed.
"It must be hard…being the vessel of heaven and having no hope."
Dean's story over the last couple of seasons reminds me of nothing so much as a quote from AtS – don't try to tell us there is no way to go but up, because the truth is there is always more down. Every time we think we have seen Dean hit rock bottom, it turns out that it was just another ledge to slam into as he hurtled past on that downward spiral he's been on pretty much ever since we first met him. No matter how bad things got for him, there was always more down. This time, though, it looks like this might finally be it – he has finally hit the ultimate rock bottom, fallen as low as it is possible to go.
Dean's depression has been a constant feature of the show since season two, and has been escalating pretty much ever since his return from hell – no one could be surprised at that, either, given everything that he's been through. In fact it is little short of miraculous that he has kept going this long. We have seen him hit breaking point on numerous occasions, but he has always managed to pull himself back from the brink, has always managed to pick himself up again somehow and keep trudging on. But he just can't do it any more. It was always a question of when he would reach the point of no return, not if, the last several episodes have been very clearly spelling that fact out for us, and this is it. In fact, last week was it – it just takes this episode for that fact to sink in enough for him to act on it.
In the face of Sam's growing concern and alarm, Dean spells his position out for us several times during the episode. He no longer has any hope whatsoever. He believes, absolutely, that the world is ending, that every living soul thereon will be dead within just a few short weeks, and that every last possibility for preventing this wholesale carnage has now been exhausted.
"It must be nice, being Chosen." We are shown that Dean is very attracted by the description of the paradise on earth Leah presents for the Chosen – no pain, no suffering and no death, just eternity with their loved ones – and can easily understand why he find this so appealing, given that he has seen what awaits him after death. That the vision is later invalidated by the revelation of Leah's true nature is immaterial – it has already served its purpose by showing us how much Dean longs for that kind of surcease, and this especially feeds into his reaction when Sam tries to engage his interest in thwarting the downward spiral the town is clearly in by this time. Sam argues that they cannot allow the angels – who they believe at the time to be responsible – to toy with people in this way. Dean's counter-argument is that 'the angels have got the only life boat in the Titanic', and I think that's the key to Dean's mindset in this episode, right there. He believes completely that there is no way to win. The ship is sinking, and the angels represent the only possible lifeboat, so why not stand back and allow a few souls to jump aboard, no matter what the cost? "Who exactly is supposed to come along and save these people? It's supposed to be us, but we can't do it," he says, an admission of absolute defeat. Saving people has always been the core of Dean's very being, so to hear him giving up on that lifelong mission is chilling.
Thus by the time Leah's deception is exposed, Dean has already come to feel that the angels now represent the last remaining possibility of saving at least some of the world's population. It circles back to one of his earliest disputes with Zachariah this season. At the time Dean expressed outrage at the prospect of how many millions of humans were likely to die in the crossfire if he gave in to Michael, but Zachariah's response was that if Lucifer remained unchecked he would roast the planet alive and everyone would die. Right now Dean finds himself staring the prospect of that absolute planetary devastation in the face, and the potential bloodshed that might come from giving in to Michael pales in comparison. We should remember also that last week Dean was offered compelling evidence that even those that die in the confrontation aren't necessarily getting such a raw deal if they end up in heaven, which both Ash and Pamela seemed to enjoy so much - just another factor among many feeding into this capitulation.
So what's right and what's wrong in this situation? I don't think Dean even knows any more – all he sees is that if they are about to lose the whole planet anyway, then what the hell is he even fighting for?
Throughout the episode it is clear that Dean is just going through the motions now, just waiting for it all to be over, unable to bring himself to really care about anything much, because what difference does any of it make if everyone is going to be dead in a few weeks anyway? He has a few brighter moments where he almost manages to engage, because caring about the people he meets is wired into his DNA, but for the most part those moments, such as the death of the boy Dylan, serve only to remind him that allowing himself to care leads only to still more pain and loss.
Dean does manage to rouse himself from his funk enough to offer Castiel a little much-needed sympathy and support, and they share a nice little scene together; there's a light little touch of humour, as Dean recommends that Castiel might need the entire bottle of aspirin for his hangover, but there is also their shared despair and tacit acknowledgement that they are simply going through the motions at this point, but might as well continue to go through those motions, for now at least.
"I've been there. I'm a big expert on deadbeat dads. So I get it. I know how you feel." That's twice in as many episodes that Dean has referred to John as a deadbeat dad, and I find that interesting because it is so very new. Even when Dean was at his angriest at John, and although his regard for his father has been slowly but surely whittled away ever since John's death, he has never before described him in this way, and it seems to me that this is more a manifestation of the disillusionment and anger he currently feels than a judgement of John specifically. With God apparently having rejected his creation completely, thus destroying the last faltering hope Dean had to cling to, Dean is lashing out against father figures in general, drawing no distinctions between them, and no longer willing to make any excuses or to even attempt to understand their motivations. Where once he compared
God-as-a-father-figure with John, a parallel that helped him to empathise with Castiel's position in the abstract, because he still didn't really believe in God anyway, he is now lumping John under the same banner as God, who he now believes in completely, but is furious with. His loss of faith is absolute, and the already badly tarnished memory of his father is damaged still more as a result.
The moment when Dean kills Leah is incredibly powerful, because the entire episode has been carefully set-up to allow us to immediately comprehend the full implications. We have been told in no uncertain terms that only a true servant of God can kill her. We have also been told that Dean should not qualify, disobedient to heaven's wishes as he is. So when he achieves the kill…man, what that means hits hard. No wonder Sam is so alarmed.
"Are you going to do something stupid?"
"Like what?"
"Like Michael stupid."
Tellingly, Dean does not deny Sam's accusation. Dean's story in this episode is the story of a man who is giving up – and with five episodes of the season still to go, I am very excited to see what happens next! As for that final scene…it came a little out of the blue, perhaps, but wasn't after all quite so surprising as all that, being entirely in character for Dean.
Dean has decided to surrender, has chosen to give up his life, body and soul, to the service of heaven, for better or for worse – the ultimate sacrifice, from a man who has spent his entire life sacrificing bits of himself, one way or another. Having made up his mind to do this, it makes sense that he would wish to set his house in order before going through with it. He can't say any goodbyes to Sam, Bobby or Castiel, however, the three people he is closest to, because all three would try to stop him. But who else does he have in his life? No one, and how sad is that? He does, however, have a dream, a wistful little fantasy of the life he would have so loved to build for himself, which was never possible – a fantasy he once denied even to himself but which has become ever stronger since he began to acknowledge it. Dean is a family man at heart. He fought for years to preserve what was left of the family he was born into, and although he has only rarely allowed himself to even entertain the idea of creating a new family of his own, deep down it is something he has longed for.
The one serious relationship we know Dean has had was with Cassie, but it was clear in Route 666 that he was more in love with the idea of the relationship than the woman herself, who could never be what he wanted, needed her to be. It was a pipe dream, but Cassie's image was for a time inserted into that dream as the closest he'd ever come. And then along came Lisa Braden, a former lover he remembered with fondness who turned out to have a child that could very easily have been his, and she has taken Cassie's place in Dean's heart ever since. Lisa fits perfectly into that wistful little fantasy of Dean's in a way that Cassie never could, and we have been shown that as a result she has since come to embody his regrets over the life he never got to have. That being the case, perhaps it isn't so surprising after all that he would wish to make her the person he says his goodbyes to, letting go of that one last worldly tie before surrendering himself to Michael.
Dean's conversation with Lisa is important for a number of reasons. It is important because it allows Dean to spell out for us what he intends to do – not just that he has decided to give in and say yes to Michael, but that he intends to bargain with the angels, using the promise of his consent as collateral. He thinks he has the power to do this because he has something that the angels want very badly. Whether or not it will be that simple, of course, is another matter entirely and still remains to be seen. The conversation is also important because it allows Dean to express something of what he is thinking and feeling in a way we rarely get to see. The conversation reflects well on Lisa, who is startled to see Dean – reminding us that in fact they barely know one another – but instantly perceives that something is badly wrong and tries hard to talk him down off that ledge, even without understanding what he is talking about. And then there is that message that we see Dean whispering into her ear before he leaves – doubtless we will find out sooner or later just what he was saying. A message for Sam, perhaps? Time will tell.
Dean is in a very, very bad place right now. Hopefully Sam – who may not have the car but does have Castiel – can get to him before it is too late.
"No, you can't do this to me. I've got one thing – one thing keeping me going. You think you're the only one white-knuckling it here, Dean? I can't count on anyone else. I can't do this alone."
The flip-flopping role reversal that goes on in this show never ceases to amaze me, not least because it always stems so naturally from ongoing character and plot development and is rarely if ever forced. After the roller-coaster ride of the last season or two, all of a sudden Sam has become the one who doesn't trust his brother out of his sight for a second – and with good reason, given Dean's defeated mindset.
Sam's concern over Dean's depression and what it might lead to is palpable throughout the episode. Sam himself remains all fired up to keep fighting for as long as it takes. He isn't allowing himself to look at the apparent hopelessness of their position, instead focused wholly on fighting on for as long as he has breath, channelling all his fear and desperation into anger and resolve. Never before has Sam's single-minded determination and obsessive personality been such a strength. It shines through throughout the episode, most strongly in his interactions with Dean but also in his conversation with the bartender, as he admits that he is a believer but nonetheless is "pretty sure that God stopped caring a long time ago." That Sam can accept this as truth and not let it defeat him is testament to his strength of character.
Equally, it is rather telling that it is Sam who makes contact with Castiel and asks for his help, rather than Dean, who has always had the closer bond with the angel. Although not the first time we've seen Sam communicating with Castiel, it clearly signifies what a driving force Sam has become in comparison to the retreat of the other two into depression – who would have thought, this time last season, that Sam would now be the most well-balanced of the bunch! Even Castiel's blunt description of him as an abomination cannot dent his resolve. It has taken a long time, but Sam has learned to accept the corruption of his physical self and seems to have come to terms with it about as much as is possible – tellingly, he shows not the slightest sign of temptation when surrounded by demon blood during the battle. Plus, crucially, where the message Dean and Castiel took from the last episode was one of rejection, Sam, in contrast, learned that he had been granted salvation in spite of his corruption. He is buoyed by that fact – a life raft of hope for him to cling to amid stormy seas.
Sam's growth and maturity since last season are clearly apparent throughout the episode. This time last year, weighed down by his own emotional baggage and corrupted by his demon-blood addiction, Sam looked upon his brother's brokenness with contempt, unable to see past his own issues to sympathise with Dean's or to recognise how much strength his brother still displayed. Things are different now. Having fallen so badly himself, Sam is able now to understand Dean's despair in a way he never could before, as well as to recognise and appreciate the strength that has kept his brother going this far. He is also able now to empathise when he sees Dean faltering, where once he might have reacted with frustration and disdain. Dean has been broken but that wasn't his fault, Sam understands that now, understands also that he is one of the ones who helped to break his brother. He has been trying and trying but he just can't repair that damage, and it's tearing him apart. Now he sees Dean teetering right on the brink and he is terrified. And rightly so.
"Who says they're all going to die. What happened to saving them?" Bless him, Sam keeps on and on poking and prodding at Dean throughout the episode, trying every way he can think of to break through those layers of depression and provoke a reaction, using every tool at his disposal – reminding Dean of his mission, reminding Dean of the reasons he should keep holding out against Michael, and spelling out clearly the effect giving up would have on Sam himself, which once upon a time would have been the ultimate deal-breaker for Dean. I love Sam for trying so damn hard, and hurt for him quite desperately that he remains unable to reach his brother just when he needs to the most. He is trying so hard to hang in there and be strong, terrified not only of what giving in would do to Dean but of what it would mean for himself.
Last season Sam believed in his own strength absolutely, and that confidence was used against him in the cruellest way possible, subverting his efforts to prevent the Apocalypse into the catalyst for Lucifer's release. That experience taught him fear and humility. He no longer trusts in his own strength at all. Recent episodes have shown us how desperately Sam needs – or believes he needs – to lean on the strength of the people around him, namely Dean and Bobby, also Castiel, while also showing us equally clearly that this support base is being whittled away, slowly but surely. Like a lame man watching termites chew through his crutches, Sam sees his support group faltering, one by one, and is terrified that without them he will fall – straight into Lucifer's clutches. In this episode we not only see that fear, but also see him use that fear as a tool to try to reach his brother – and he is right to do so, because once upon a time Dean would have made the effort for Sam's sake where he would not for himself. But not any more, alas, and so Sam's increasingly desperate efforts to get through to him are all in vain.
Powerfully, Sam's part in the episode ends with him being given a very bitter taste of his own medicine from last season, as Dean lies to him in order to sneak away and leave him behind – and Sam knows enough to be very afraid of what his brother will do next. This means that Sam no longer has the option of being afraid to trust in himself, no longer has the luxury of relying on his brother to be strong on his behalf. It is time for Sam to step up and become the man he always wanted to be, a man capable of being strong for the people he loves – a man who loves his brother enough to catch him when he falls.
Dean has taken the car, but Sam still has Castiel. All hope is not yet lost, but what little remains is in Sam's possession. Time will tell what he does with it!
"I got your message. Long message. I found the sound of your voice grating."
Following on from his absolute loss of faith last week, the Castiel we see in this episode has begun his slow descent into becoming the drug-addled, hedonistic individual we met in the future in The End, aided and abetted by, apparently, the contents of an entire liquor store. Given how many shots we saw him put away without effect in Abandon All Hope, it is hardly surprising that it would take this much alcohol for him to get so drunk! Castiel's drunkenness serves a dual purpose: it provides what little comic relief the episode contains, while also very clearly conveying the depth of the angel's despair. Like Dean, Castiel has pretty much hit rock bottom. Also like Dean, he has been heading in this direction for most of the season, his faith and conviction slowly but surely whittled away at every turn.
It is always a pleasure to see Castiel and Sam interacting one-on-one. The fleshing out of this particular dynamic is long overdue, so it was fascinating to see the interplay between the two in this episode – especially since I believe this was the first time we have actually seen them alone together.
Castiel does not exactly rush to respond to Sam's message, and this lengthy delay tells us just as much about the angel's mindset as does the drunken state in which he eventually shows up. Like Dean, Castiel is just about past caring now, believing that they have pretty much already lost and no longer have any chance at all of defeating Lucifer. Once he is there, though, although his attitude is generally hostile and surly, his interest in the case is fairly easily piqued, and we get to see him bonding with Sam over the books as they attempt to figure out what's going on – and even see him express amusement over am Enochian joke. Yet his underlying despair is palpable throughout. Like Dean, Castiel is just going through the motions now, marking time until the end.
Castiel's desolation is at its most apparent when possibilities for killing the Whore of Babylon are discussed. Only a true servant of heaven can kill her, and Castiel – that once proud and mighty angel of the Lord – is immediately discounted, rebel as he is. When he makes himself known to Pastor Dave, a slumped, rumpled figure, the contrast between this Castiel and the Castiel who first introduced himself to Dean is stark. The bitterness in his tone as he tells Pastor Dave that he isn't much of an angel is painful to hear.
Thus far, Castiel is still able to rally himself to come to the aid of Sam and Dean when they call for him. Just how much longer he can keep that up remains to be seen – but with Dean on the verge of surrendering himself to Michael, they are surely going to need him more now than ever!
"Don't ask stupid questions."
Some random other thoughts about the episode.
1. Cindy Sampson's name in the credits might have been necessary, but was a bit of a giveaway (as of course was her place in the recap). I spent the entire episode just waiting for her to show up!
2. I really liked the bartender, Paul. So I suppose it figures that he'd end up dead.
3. Dean might be at rock bottom, but he still can't quite stop himself from flirting with a pretty girl – even one who appears to be a prophet and whose father is standing right alongside her!
4. It has been implied for much of this season that Dean is increasingly drowning his sorrows in alcohol. We haven't seen him drunk, though, as I recall. Interestingly, then, although in this episode we see the brothers having a beer together a couple of times (neither of them happy occasions), Sam is the one who goes out and gets drunk; when he returns to the motel, Dean is drinking coffee. I wonder if this means that Dean is now past even trying to bury himself in alcohol – it just isn't working, so he's given up the effort, along with everything else.
5. Aww, I love that in spite of everything Dean and Sam still chink their beer cans together before drinking. That's cute.
6. Castiel: "I found a liquor store. And I drank it."
Sam: "Are you okay?"
Castiel: "Don't ask stupid questions."
7. I know that it is an established part of the character now, but I really wish Misha Collins wouldn't put on that ultra-deep, grating voice for Castiel – it hurts just to listen to him!
And...that's all folks. I'm pretty sure there's more that could be said about this episode, but I'm all talked out for now. Here's hoping the next one is just as good!
