Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Snarky "Supernatural" Recap: Monster Movie

I had such a blast writing the first one, I decided for another go. Enjoy or don't!

I have to admit I was crestfallen when I saw the previews for this week’s installment for “Supernatural.” I absolutely hate it when shows to theme or tribute episodes. I don’t watch “Buffy” to see the characters (try to) sing. Nor do I watch “Supernatural” to see an ode to a genre of movies made decades before I was born, and that I never liked in the first place. Needless to say, I was none too pleased that Kripke and Co. were stepping away from the amazing, angsty goodness that has been the first four episodes of this season so he could make a tribute episode to old school monster movies. In fucking black and white. Yes, without color. Oh the humanity! I’m not sure if I could even watch an episode that replaced the unique green of Jensen’s eyes with a dull grey. Boo! Hiss! Bah! I don’t want to watch! But I obviously am anyway, because I love Kripke, the show, and the Js. I’m not happy about it, and I refuse to enjoy it! I’ll hate this episode more than “Ghostfacers!” and nothing Sam or Dean Winchester does will change that!

Now, let’s get this over with. The show begins with the old school WB logo, an old-timey orchestra trumpeting the beginning of the show with dramatic crescendo, and old-fashioned title cards. I see they’re going all out. That’s not cute or clever at all, I swear. It’s stupid in fact. It was a dark and stormy night. Beneath a glowy crescent moon, Metallicar tears down a foggy backroad and past a sign that reads: Welcome to Pennsylvania. In Old English font. I’m not playing. When lightning flashes, it magically changes from Pennsylvania to Transylvania. Ooooo, spooky.

Inside the car, the vividly strumming orchestra switches to a tinny version piping of the same song in from the Metallicar’s radio. “The radio around here sucks,” Dean complains as he flips it off. Sammy holds a sour face as he examines a map with a flashlight, once again relegated to the passenger seat. Alas, Sam had four months to drive the Metallicar while Dean was vacationing in Hades, and I fear he won’t drive again unless Dean makes a return trip. Dean, on the other hand, is absolutely thrilled that they have an open-and-shut case that consists of a “dead vic with a gnawed on a neck, body drained of blood, and a witness who swears up and down that it was a vampire.” Dean loves killing vamps. It always cheers him up. I think it’s his cardio, too. His giant of a little brother just glums in the passenger seat, because “the world is ending, and things are a little complicated.” Dean, I’m sure, hasn’t forgotten that the apocalypse is coming as that’s the only reason why he’s drawing breath. He is downright giddy because this case is “like the good ole days, an honest to goodness monster hunt.” And then he pops out this little line, “it’s about time the Winchesters got a straight-forward, black and white case.” Aww, the show is self-aware. Can it be self-aware in COLOR, please? Lightning and thunder flash and crash as the car zooms down the road. Still in black and white.

We circle fade to black and fade back in to polka music? Um, quoi? What on earth is going on? The camera pans down to a gazebo I swear was used on “Gilmore Girls” to a polka band, an awful amount of lederhosen, and because this is “Supernatural,” a lot of blondes in short costume dresses. Judging by the banner hung from the rafters of this downright German-esque village, the Hardy Boys have stumbled on upon Pennsylvania’s Oktoberfest! Sam and Dean emerge from the car in their FBI suits, and for a moment, I forget how much I hate black and white, because the boys look wonderful, dashing even. Even Jared Padalecki’s mullety hair looks good. Did I just say that? That’s not even possible!

Dean adjusts his collar, “We still have to see the new ‘Raiders’ movie.” That’s the writers’ clever way of making a reference to the new Indiana Jones film without actually using the proper title. Sam says he’s already seen it. Dean is crushed, “without me?” He pouts. Sam shrugs matter-of-factly, “you were in Hell.” Zing! Sammy tells a joke! “That’s no excuse!” He huffs, but then the outrage is suddenly overtaken by his fantastic appetite. “Big pretzel!” He darts away. Hee! The camera swings in on Sam’s pretty, albeit black and white face, and he smiles wistfully and fondly at the fleeting form of his recently resurrected older brother. He looks at Dean the way mothers stare at their children in complete awe and pride before puberty turns them into smart-ass, know-it-all monsters. Jared Padalecki doesn’t say a word, but the expression on his face says far more. He missed his brother, even the stupid little things he did that probably drove him batty before he died, and he is so happy to have him back that it overwhelms him sometimes. It was an long overdue moment, but a touching one. Sniff!

Sam joins him and together they both dig into the ginormous pretzels. And what do you know? Sammy is eating! His lack of appetite is just as notorious as Dean’s voracious one. What kind of jacked-up land of crazy have my poor Sammy and Dean stumbled into? It has to be another mystery spot! Dean, please keep those green eyes peeled for flying desks or rancid tacos! Dean ogles a tall blonde dressed as a bar wench walking by and making eyes at Dean. Chica, quit while you’re ahead; Dean’s peepers are legendary, and I can’t even see what color your eyes are. “Guten tag.” The wench greets him, flirting. Ho! Dean laps it up along with his big pretzel. “Guten tag yourself!” He returns with his mouth full. The blonde lass strolls by the town’s sheriff tossing Dean one last come-hither look before disappearing into a bar. Dean remembers that they are indeed on a case, and they start their investigation. Sheriff Dietrich corrals the boys to the morgue so they can examine the body and discuss it from the crowd. The compassionate sheriff looks down at the victim, Marissa Wright, 26 years old, and sighs, “it’s the last thing this town needs at peak tourist season.” Such a tenderhearted, old softie, isn’t he? Sammy, always the humanitarian even when it involves Ruguarus who want to gobble up his brother, calls the sheriff on the fact that a woman was violently killed in the prime of her life and that is that is more important than protecting the town’s profits from a beer festival.

Dean turns Dead Marissa’s head, and finds two large fang marks in her neck, and he seems genuinely shocked. I can’t tell if he is acting for the sheriff’s sake or if he really is surprised by his findings. The sheriff echoes his sentiment, and thinks the killer is a “satan-worshipping, Anne Rice-reading, gothic, psycho vampire wannabe.” He goes on to mention the witness’s name is Ed Brewer, the town crackpot.

In the local bar, Sammy and Dean stroll up to the counter to ask the aforementioned bar wench if he knows where he can find Ed Brewer. They produce their FBI badges in unison. HEE! I love it when they do that. The bar wench is incredulous that Dean is actually FBI, “Wow, you don’t come on like a Fed.” She says, leaning forward to show the un-Fed-like Fed her cleavage. TEASE! Did I mention this bar wench is a straight-up Deangirl? She completely ignores his fifteen-foot-tall partner, which is pretty damn hard since he towers over…everything. “Seriously?” She asks again, thinking she got the part as Izzie on “Grey’s Anatomy.” Wrong show, Katherine Heigl.

Dean leans in closer as well. In the shot, Sammy is standing behind him, looking quite Fed-Like in his black suit, white shirt and broad shoulders. I am honestly starting to appreciate the black and white, because it is making my already beautiful boys look more so. And I swear Sammy is actually preening for the buxom blonde or the Samgirls at home. After rewinding several times, I can confirm that this is in fact what he is doing. Let The Battle of the Pretty For This Episode BEGIN! Yay! Anyway, Dean’s pretty, pretty face suddenly gobbles up the screen to cheese, “I’m a maverick, ma’am.” And he doesn’t mean in the hateful, fear-mongering republican kind of maverick, either. “A rebel with a badge. The one thing I don’t play by are the rules,” and then he winks and a bell rings, and Castiel is rolling his damn angel eyes from heaven as another angel gets his wings. That line is cheesier than three-cheese macaroni, but Jensen Ackles/Dean sold it like a Shakespearean sonnet, and he looks like THAT, so I’d definitely buy it. Katherine Heigl, on the other hand, seems a bit more resistant. God, she’s dumb. “Okay, Maverick,” Sammy says, making a grand attempt of buttoning in his laughter, “so where can we find Mr. Brewer?” That Sammy, always on task.

Slide Fade to Mr. Brewer who is nervously gulping beer from a comically large beer stein. He looks like a non-manorexic Ethan Hawke back when he was Mr. Uma Thurman. He is dressed, however, like he teleported from the set of “I Love Lucy” with his crisply ironed collared short, thin mustache, and slicked back hair. “I told the cops everything I saw.” He says in Brooklyn-ish accent that speaks more about his character than where he’s from. Ethan Brewer is a less-than-polished blue-collar fellow, who probably has all of the “Lord of the Rings” fan fiction in his spare time. “Nobody believes me. Why should you be any different?” “Believe me, Mr. Brewer, we’re different.” Dean promises, and he smirks at him. I see our freshly resurrected Dean is so horny that he’s unwittingly hitting on a man…and he’s not even hot. Tsk, tsk, Dean, tsk, tsk.

“I spoke the God’s honest truth, and now I’m the town joke.” Ethan Brewer bemoans. “Marissa Wright’s murder is no joke to us and we want to hear everything. No matter how strange it may seem.” Fed-Like Sammy encourages. “We have a lot of experience in strange,” Dean assures him. Ethan Brewer plies himself with a few more gulps from his giant beer stein and proceeds to tell his story after shooting Sammy and Dean the Maverick a thumbs up. “It was just after midnight. I cut through the park on the way home,” he actually makes his first two fingers walk around the table as he speaks. “At first I thought it was a couple kissing, but she was,” he pauses and spazzes for a second, “struggling too much.” The camera flashes to Sam and Dean who are listening intently…and Dean is giving some serious model face. Game on! “It was a man…he was biting her neck…” “Oh he was a vampire,” he answers when Fed-like Sammy asks for a description. Dean presses him to explain why he thought he was a vampire. Ethan Brewer says, “Ya know a vampire,” and then he hisses for effect. Adorably Dean humors him with an “uh huh” as if he’s talking to an infant who just spewed a mouthful of gibberish and wants a serious response. “He looked like a vampire, ya know, with the fangs and the slicked back hair and the fancy cape and the medallion thingie on the…ribbon.” Hee! I know this character is just tool writers use to keep the exposition from being boring, but I love this guy!

“You mean like a Dracula?” Dean questions, stealing Sam’s sour face. “Exactly! Like a Dracula.” Dean immediately thinks that Ethan Brewer is a stark, raving loon. Sammy is much more polite, and humors him and prompts him describe “Dracula’s” accent, which Ethan Brewer does enthusiastically, and the strings kick up on the soundtrack to give power to his imitation. This is probably the biggest thing that has ever happened to Ethan Brewer, and he wants to help. He wants to do his civic duty. He wants to be the hero. But he now fears that he lost he just lost the last two people who would believe him. “You do believe me, don’t you?” Sammy and Dean just stare back with blank faces and furrowed brows. I bet that’s the same look Ethan Hawke gets when he goes to auditions.

Cut to Katherine Heigl and another bar wench, Lucy, from behind the bar. Lucy figures Sam and Dean are investigating the Wright murder, and feels sorry that they were roped into talk to “crazy Ed Brewer and his vampire story,” Lucy sighs. Katherine Heigl defends Crazy Ethan. “He might be weird, but he’s not crazy.” Lucy scoffs, “You’re just saying that because the guy has a crush on you and he tips you in twenties.” She blots her lipstick on a folded napkin and drops it on the bar. The camera pulls in close on the napkin signaling its significance.

Lucy vamooses as Dean approaches the bar once more, “So you gotta beer back there for me?” “I don’t know, Agent Young, you off duty?” Katherine Heigl asks. “And then some,” Dean replies. She disappears as Sammy joins him. He picks up the lipstick-spotted napkin and probably thinks about how gross that is or takes a moment to miss Ruby 2.0 or Dead Werewolf Madison or Deep Fried Jessica or that completely awesome, completely alive Sarah from “Provenances.” Sammy and Dean lean against the bar and think through the case. They echo the sheriff’s assumptions about Brewer, “so what you do think? Goth, psycho vampire wannabe?” Sammy agrees, “Definitely not our kind of case.” They sit down at a booth as a surprisingly upbeat Dean Winchester sees the upside of suddenly being jobless. “The room’s paid for and it’s Oktoberfest. Come on, brother, beer and bar wenches.” “I’m pretty sure women today don’t react very well to the whole ‘wench’ thing.” Sammy bores. Dean proves how wrong he is, “Hey bar wench, where’s that beer?” “Coming up, good sir,” Katherine Heigl says as she tops off his draft. Sammy rolls his eyes and knows he couldn’t get away with that. In that suit, Sammy, you could get away with just about anything.

Katherine Heigl brings Dean his beer and he takes the opportunity to make funny of his lil’ giant of a brother when she asks if he would like anything by calling him a “Christian Scientist” and complains about how boring he is with some combination of words. I hear none of this because Jared Padalecki just licked his damn lips and proceed to rewind that fifty-seven times. It’s not LL Cool J good, but I ain’t complainin’. Once I re-join the action, Katherine Heigl is still lapping up Dean’s persistent flirting, “you’re funny.” “Well I’m a lot more than that. I’d love to get a chance to show you the rest. What time you get off?” He is offering himself up on a platter! Katherine Heigl shoots him down like he’s Alex Karev, “Ha ha! Like I said, funny.” Ouch! Can we kill her for turning him down again when she started the whole thing?

“Man it is time to right some wrongs,” Dean nearly growls over his giant beer. “What do you mean?” Sammy asks. “Well, look at me. I came back from the furnace without any of my old scars, right? No bullet wounds, no knife cuts, no off-angle fingers from all the breaks. I mean my hide is as smooth as a baby’s bottom.” Now I’m fantasizing about naked Dean, which is a very good thing for me, but a very disturbing thing for Sammy. He turns down his lips and is thinking of dredging up his DEE-MONIC Telekinesis to make Dean shut the hell up about how hot he is. “Which leads me to conclude—sadly—that my virginity is intact.” Dean announces with a sexy smirk. Sammy is as baffled as I am. Dean, ticked pink about stumbling onto Oktoberfest, just drives to point home, “I have been rehymenated.” I promptly fall off the couch in laughter. I LOVE THIS FREAKING SHOW. I will have its babies! If Dean Winchester can be rehymenated, I can birth “Supernatural” infants. Although I’m scared to imagine what they’d look like…hmm. Sammy manages to take that comment better than I do since he’s been putting up with Dean’s antics for 26 years—minus the four months he was dead—and snorts, “Please, maybe angels can pull you out of Hell, but no one can do that!” Sammy promises, politely referencing Dean’s prior life of tawdry slutdom. Dean refuses to entertain his little brother’s stupid notions based on archaic logica, because if he can be dead for four months and blossom out of the ground in perfect health, all of the hard and fast rules are now…soft and slow! So he sips his giant beer, “Brotha, I have been rehymenated, and the dude will not abide.” “Well, dude, you do whatever you gotta do. I’m going to go back to the room and get some sleep.” And by “sleep” he means “fire up” Poor lonely Sammy is boring me. Don’t get me wrong, I love “The Odd Couple” dynamic between Sam and Dean, but could he loosen up just a little bit? It seems like he had more fun when his brother was dead, which is pretty freaking WRONG. I know Sammy isn’t the type of guy who has one-night stands, and I respect him for that, but he could talk to people, and make jokes and smile. Who knew Armageddon would twist Sammy panties in knots? It did wonders for Ben Affleck.

Alone, Dean enjoys a beer almost as big as Mr. Brewer’s, and then tracks down Katherine Heigl to ask her out again. “Uh, sorry, I promised Lucy a girls’ night out.” She gestures to the tall brunette with an angular face who likes to blot her lipstick on napkins and leave it lying around and I’m pointing this out again because it’s very important! “Besides, no self respecting bar wench lets herself get picked up by a customer on the first try.” She sasses with her hand on her hip. Oh she’s feisty! “Well I’m not a customer, I’m a Federal Agent.” Dean corrects. “Try again tomorrow, G-Man.” Wait a minute, this girl was handpicked to de-hymenate The Virgin Dean, and she’s turning him down for, like, the forty-second time in the first eight minutes of this episode? I’m honestly nauseous. And I hope she dies. There, I said it. Call me a fanatic or a Deangirl, I don’t care. Dean tells Katherine Heigl that he doesn’t think they’ll be there tomorrow as the case is “not weird enough.” And end scene!

We cut to yet another quite artificial FULL moon shining on a grove of artificial trees as artificial fog wafts around a very real car where a couple is necking. (That’s old school for “making out.”) Again, both the boy and the girl look as if they stumbled off “The Donna Reed Show,” but it doesn’t appear to be a costume. The look, like this entire episode, is a subtle wink at the era, but arguably modern. A wolf howls in the distance, and the girl, a nervous brunette with impeccable bangs, pushes her boyfriend off in fear. “That sounded like a wolf.” Her teenaged boyfriend is so excited at the prospect of getting some that he wouldn’t care if Anti-Christ himself is outside of the car with white glowy eyes. Odds are he’d be safer if he was. He is panty, hot and bothered, and spews any excuse he can thing of so they can keep going. “Baby, if a man doesn’t get the stuff out of his system regularly, it can back up and cause all kinds of…medical type problems.” Hee! Horny McBlueballs wants to get his rocks off more than The Virgin Dean. Man, he’s pathetic. Out of the fog comes a shadow of a pair of dastardly devilish paw-like hands with thick nails and thicker fur. The creature in need of a serous manicure and a wax growls as his wolf-like form paints over the bumper of the small, trendy hatchback. Inside, Horny McBlueballs is getting quite handsy himself, clawing at his girlfriend’s blouse as he kisses her. She pushes his hands away and asks if he heard the growls. Against the background of the dark woods and moonlight visible through the car window, Horny McBlueBalls makes a grand statement of doom! “Anna Marie, there aren’t any wolves in Pennsylvania.” Oh yeah, he’s dead. He can’t even finish the statement before movement flutters behind him, and just as we predicted, the window smashes and those dastardly devilish paw-like hands snatch our beloved Horny McBlueballs clear through the window. He screams. Anna Marie screams. Wolf-Man growls. There is a hilarious shot of Anna Marie shrieking as Horny’s feet wiggle and flail fruitlessly as he is dragged bodily through the window, the horn snapping off shots of sound as he hits it in the struggle. While we never see all of Wolf-Man, we do get a shot of the furry thing sinisterly stalking from the car, then hear the wonderful sound of a monster slashing through flesh and bone and organs while Anna Marie screams her virginal little head off. See, it’s not fun to be clawed at, Horny, now is it? That entire scene was pure unabashed camp, and I freakin’ loved it. Amen, “Supernatural.”

The next day a far less screamy Anna Marie sits in front of the “Gilmore Girls” gazebo indulging in a big gulp as Fed-Like Sam and Un-Fed-Like Dean frown at her in much the same way they did with Ethan Brewer. Anna Marie is decidedly unremorseful about her boyfriend’s demise, “and then it just tore Rick into little pieces.” Atta girl! Dean needlessly comforts her, and when asked for a description of Poor Horny McBlueballs killer, she slurps at her big gulp once more and confidently states, “Oh it was a werewolf. With the furry face and the black nose and the claws and the torn up pants and shirt like from the old movies.” Sam and Dean exchange befuddled looks and quickly leave as Anna Marie drains her bucket of cola without a care in the world now that her horny fucktard of a boyfriend is dead. I like her. She’s got gumption! Dean, pick her!

Fed-Like Sammy and Un-Fed-Like Dean can now enter and exit the morgue as they please. In an undeniably elegant and perfectly framed shot of the shiny, silver morgue drawers, Sam and Dean search for what’s left of Horny’s body. Their black suits a sharp contrast to the bright metal. Dean wonders, “what the hell is going on in this town?” and wearily moves to examine the body that is encased in a disturbingly flat and shapeless body bag. Haha! Sammy and Dean gag and wow at the remains inside. “Damn!” Dean curses, shocked at the presumably confettied state of the body. “All right, whatever did this,” Sammy says, stirring the soupy remains and then pulling up a shredded knot of unidentifiable innards up into the shot with the end of his pencil, “was not a psycho wannabe.” Dean is just speechless with confusion as Sammy continues to toss Horny’s guts up like cole slaw. Why is that so amusing? “Look at those bite marks…right down the bone, and deeper.” Sam points out. “Strong enough to tear a healthy man apart limb from limb, could be a werewolf.” Dean hypothesizes. Maybe Jason did it, Sam. Get it? Get it? Um, back to the show. Sammy points out that the heart is still there and intact and “they never leave the heart in one piece.” “So I reiterate, what the hell is going on?” Dean questions.

Sheriff Dietrich enters and while, yes, Sam is still poking around in that poor man’s chest cavity with his No. 2. “Well I was hoping you boys could tell me. The fibers were found on the body…are canine, wolf hairs.” Both Winchesters are painfully perplexed. But, mercy me, the reaction shot of Sammy is so completely gorgeous that I have to stop writing this recap and make a screencap. When I finish making it my wallpaper (for my cubicle, not my computer), Dean’s face comically crumples in pain as he declares, “I’m getting a headache” and rubs his pretty, pretty eyes.

Back at the Bar of Bar Wenches. Fed-Like Sammy is eating again. Two times in one episode? Everything I know about the “Supernatural” universe has been flipped upside down! I don’t know how to take this episode. Let’s recap, shall we? No weekly motel room, no color, no real gore, Sam and Dean haven’t fought over whether this is their kind of case or not, Sam ate, not once but TWICE, Dean has made no mention of pie, and he is downright carefree and virginal? The only thing keeping me from running from this episode in unadulterated fear is the fact that Sammy isn’t bedding any bar wenches. Sam’s celibacy is the only thing holding it all together! But this is still eighteen kinds of wrong as Sammy’s appetite awakening like Mount St. Helen’s is far more frightening than whatever put the two dead bodies in the morgue.

Back to the this freakshow of a show: Dean wipes his mouth, “I don’t know, man, looks like we’ve stumbled onto a midnight showing of ‘Dracula Meets Wolf-Man.’” “Wolf-Man seems real enough,” Sammy argues. “But werewolves don’t grow wolf hair. That’s just a myth. So what, we have a vampire and a were-wolf monster-mashing this town?” Dean asks. Katherine Heigl saunters up to the boys with a beer for each. “Looks like you guys are staying awhile. I heard about Rick Deacon.” Dean agrees that the case is finally “weird enough for their department.” And Katherine Heigl finally sees the light (and nope, Jeffery Dean Morgan ain’t in it…hee!) and makes a date with Dean at the oh-so safe hour of midnight. Can she die now?!

Dean, knowing he is getting laid few hours, has his mojo back. “You think this Dracula can turn into a bat? That’d be cool.” He gulps his giant beer so fervently that he nearly falls in. When he surfaces, foam is smeared all over his upper lip and nose. How freaking adorable is that? Hee!

It is a dark and stormy night, and the Fog of Death hovers around an old mansion-turned museum that looks very much like one in my hometown. Inside a security guard is on the phone, asking whoever is on the other end if they were expecting a delivery. What’s the package, you ask? “A very old” sarcophagus. It was just sitting on the loading dock without any paperwork.” The burly and bearded security guard stupidly has his back turned to the sarcophagus and as he asks if “Helen has anything in her files,” the lid begins to noiselessly slide open, and more cryptic and quite cinematic fog slithers from the crack and curls onto the floor. The poor security guard jumps when the lid slides completely off. He watches, horrified as a mummy rises (obviously on a mechanized board) out of the smoke of his coffin as violins lilt on the soundtrack. This poor security guard reacts the way any good rent-a-cop would when a centuries old embalmed corpse with no brain starts moving on its own accord: he hollers, “Holy mother of crap!”, unholsters his gun, and pumps the fucker full of lead. Good job! The mummy advances undeterred and backs the poor guy into a wall, grabs him by the throat with an atrophied arm covered in soiled and weathered bandages, and lifts him up by his neck. And then? Mummy squeeze. The security guard gags and chokes and his tongue bunches up in his mouth until finally, there is a disgusting noise that sounds like a thumb piercing through the tough outer skin and into the juicy meat of an apple. Lightning and thunder flash and crash from outside the museum, and all is suddenly still again.

The museum is now a crime scene. Fed-Like Sammy and Un-Fed-Like Dean work in the middle of it, examining the sarcophagus while CSI collects evidence. Somewhere in the room, Horatio Cane is menacingly removing his sunglasses. Sammy and his magic flashlight finally uncover a clue, “the sarcophagus isn’t ancient. It’s from a prophouse in Philly.” He holds up the black and white label. Dean, with his own flashlight, isn’t surprised. “Well, it goes well with the bucket of dry ice he was keeping in it,” he replies as he shows Sam the world’s smallest bucket of billowing smoke, holding it with two fingers. “Is he making his own special effects?” Sam wonders. “A mummy with a good sense of showman’s ship.” Dean agrees. Both Sam and Dean are speechless, observing the action around them until Sam, completely fed up with what was supposed to be a straight-forward, black and white case, pouts, “This is stupid” in the same vein of the pathetic and oh-so-funny, “I lost my shoe” from “Bad Day At Black Rock.” I actually laugh out loud. For a long time.

The Virgin Dean stands up, suddenly panicked, and starts gesturing wildly. He’s late to be devirginized and he’s all, “I’m late and you got it with the mummy…and the crazy…” Sam assures him with his “I got this” face, and shoos his recently resurrected brother off to go get laid. If that’s not a display of brotherly love, I don’t know what is.

Tavern. Katherine Heigl waits outside of the bar, and I notice how contemporary she looks in her cleavage-revealing shirt, short black coat, and super tight jeans. One of these things is not like the other! One of these things does not belong! She checks her watch and shakes her head, “your loss, G-Man.” She walks down the now abandoned town…and wait, back up. It’s Oktoberfest and the entire town is deserted at midnight? No couple necking in the corners, no drunk guys peeing in the “Gilmore Girls” gazebo, no ruckus parties? I find this impossible to believe, murders or not. I think the Amish are wilder than the folks in this town. But I digress. The Fog of Doom slithers in as Katherine Heigl turns the corner. At night, the village is nothing more than a shadowed labyrinth of buildings and alleyways. Katherine Heigl hears a flapping of wings and what sounds like a bat screeching. She unceremoniously turns around, and DUN! Dracula is standing at the corner and he looks exactly like Ethan Brewer described him with the slicked back hair, fancy cape and the medallion on the ribbon. “Good evening,” he greets in his perfect Transylvanian accent. Katherine Heigl bolts. Dracula thrusts his satiny ape over his arm and powerwalks after her. Katherine Heigl rounds the corner and is face-to-face with…a brick wall with barred windows. The full moon shines through the bars and the quite cinematic smoke billows around her. “I have watched you for many nights from afar!” Dracula confesses, a bar of light falling perfectly over his eyes. It is a bit creepy and cool. “My passion knows NO BOUNDS, Mee-na!” Katherine Heigl roots around in her purse for anything she can use as a weapon. “You are the reincarnation of my love…and I must….have you.” Dracula continues as he ventures closer. His line delivery is grand and melodramatic like a theater actor or Fraiser Crane. Katherine Heigl must have been looking for her mace because she blast his eerily light eyes as a response, and then runs back the way she came. Smart girl! I didn’t know they made those in the “Supernatural” universe. Dracula screams and curses, “Mary…son of a…” HA! He completely dropped the accent and breaks character as he rubs the burning mace out of his eyes. Apparently, our Dracula hails from the Midwest, hey der doncha know?! He makes chase seconds later.

Dean walks briskly through the empty town calling Katherine Heigl’s name. Terrified, she runs to him and clutches the lapels of his jacket. She doesn’t have time to warn him about the wingnut who accosted her as Dean recognizes her fear and reflexively pushes her behind him. Then Dracula arrives. “Son of a BITCH!” He marvels, eying this freakshow up and down. Hee! The Magical Winchester Catchphrase! “You should not use such LANGUAGE in the presence of my BRIDE!” Dracula overacts. Dean agrees to those terms, then decks him in the jaw. Dracula never saw it coming, and hits the ground hard. Instantly, he pops up again, fangs bared and hisses like a barnyard cat. Dracula’s flamboyance clearly distracts Dean and he hesitates before he throws another punch, giving Dracula time to expect it. Dracula blocks a combination of punches, grabs Dean by the neck and slams him backwards against the brick wall. Dean tells his Flavor of the Week to run, and she does!?! She actually doesn’t try to help him or anything. What a bitch! And yes, yes, I know that she stills think Dean is an Un-Fed-Like Fed, but even they need a helping hand. “You have no choice, Mee-ster Harker, Mee-na is MINE!” He hisses as he sinks out of frame, fangs bared, to bite Dean’s neck.

Our Dean, being the scrappy fighter than he is, grabs hold of Dracula’s ear and pulls. HARD. He does the same with the other hand, and comes up with Dracula’s ear in one hand and his medallion on the ribbon in the other. Surprisingly, it doesn’t cause him pain. He just seems surprised and embarrassed. He runs and Determined Dean bolts after him, slicing through the fog. The soundtrack sails, heightening the action with symbols and horns, as we see from a bird’s eye view the distant forms of Dracula running through the deserted town and bow-legged little Dean chasing after him. This is just another layer that adds to the awesomeness of this episode. Dracula rounds the corner, effortlessly leaps, and flies over a high gate. Dean tries to do the same, but he flounders, barely making it three feet off the ground and slams against the gate. He grips the bars, watching Dracula escape. Sadly, he doesn’t turn into a bat like Dean hoped he would. Instead, he putts away on…A VESPA!?! The first three times I watched this part, I was laughing too hard to hear the horn beep twice jauntily off-screen. HEE! Why is this stupid black and white episode so good? The black and white mocks me!

Intermission card. Aww. Cute.

Bar. Sam, out of his beautiful suit, checks in on Katherine Heigl and Dean as they sit at a table drinking shots. Dean presents Sam with Dracula’s ear, and urges him to touch it. For some reason, Sam finds this revolting. Isn’t this the same Sam who was knitting sweaters out of Horny McBlueballs intestines a few hours earlier? And THIS makes him queasy? Nonetheless, he gives the ear a hearty caress, but when Dean asks, “Feel familiar to you?” Sam’s face stretches in recognition. “The skin of a shapeshifter. Just like St. Louis, and just like Milwaukee, of course this one’s all holding buckets of crazy.” The medallion is also part of a costume rental. The mummy, the werewolf and wolf-man are all the same thing: a shapeshifter. We—including Sam and Dean—thought they had to kill or at least be near the creature to copy it, but luckily for this episode, it doesn’t. Kick ass.

Again, I must interject. He said this in front of Katherine Heigl, who had probably been miles away from Dean and Dracula as fast as she hightailed it out of here, so why did he feel the need to tell her The Truth? It cannot possibly be because he thinks he has a connection with her. He just wants to get laid. I will let you ponder this while I get back to the episode. Dean knows they have to stop the shapeshifter “before he ‘Creature-From-The-Black-Lagoons’ somebody.” Katherine Heigl cranes her neck way, way, way back to ask a standing Sammy if “The X-Files” are real. Dean smiles fakely and drops some science on her, “’The X-Files’ is a TV show,” he duhs, “this is real.” He purses those full lips of his and looks at her like she is insane. Hee! So that’s why he told her, just so he could say that line!

“The stagecraft, the costuming, it’s like he’s trying to reenact his favorite monster movie moments, right down to the blood murders,” Sammy realizes. Again, why is he so boring in this episode? I’m an Equal Opportunity Winchester-er. I’m a sucker for Sam’s broody, soft-hearted, broad-shouldered, rock of a man thing as much as I am for Dean’s throwback, snarky, pretty-faced, bow-legged, adrenaline junkie with a love for guns, gals and ganks thing, so it pains me when one of them is having all the fun, and the other is there as extremely tall scenery.

And SNORE! It is Sammy’s turn to deliver the burdensome monologue of exposition this week. I’ll make it short: In old books and movies, Mina was Dracula’s chosen bride, and Jonathan Harker was Mina’s fiancĂ© who stood in his way of seducing and, of course, marrying Mina. Sam deduces that he is acting out the movies, and therefore must be fixating on Katherine Heigl, and therefore, he must know her and have spent time with her. After a few moments, she deduces that the shapeshifter has to be our dear friend, Ethan Brewer. Lucy mentioned that he had a crush on her, and he conveniently just moved to town last month. And, of course, he is a projectionist at the local movie theater. That’s the go-to profession of choice for peeping Toms, child molesters and movie-obsessed shapeshifters. Dean wearily motions for Sammy to check out Ethan Brewer, and he darts off, excited to do something else besides brood and pout and “sleep.”

Flash forward. At the bar, Katherine Heigl is still processing. “So monster’s are real? And the shapeshifter can turn into different people?” “Yeah, except this one is turning into great monsters from screamland, and that’s a new one for me.” He answers, still sipping from his highball glass of booze.

“You’re really not FBI, are you?” And now I know why Katherine Heigl is a bartender and not a rocket scientist or a neurosurgeon. “Not so much,” Dean quietly confesses. Jensen looks positively radiant in a lingering close up, and he blinks a bit, and HEE! Eye porn? Thank you. “You and your partner just tramp across the country on your own dime looking for some horrible nightmare to fight?” “Some people paint,” Dean deadpans. Ha! Katherine Heigl thinks “it must suck” to have such responsibility for people’s lives while never having one of his own. The screen fills up with Dean’s pretty, pretty face, and he blinks a lot…seriously, Jensen, stop that! I can’t concentrate. Candidly, Dean admits that it “started weighing” on him in the last few years, but that was before his “very near death experience.” Heh. A pacing Katherine Heigl slides beside him in the booth, and listens intently as this sensitive, brave hero pours his heart out to her, and only her. As distant and guarded as Dean can be, he doesn’t move away or crack a joke. He stays in the moment and forges ahead, which may be the bravest thing he’s done in this episode. He spits the words out like he is mortified to speak them out loud and he knows how ridiculous he sounds. “When I came to, things were different. Life’s been different. I realize that I help people, not just help them, save them. It’s kind of like a gift, a mission…A mission from God.” Wow. Resurrection does wonders for the psyche, I see. And Katherine Heigl decides to ruin this earth-shattering confession. “Does that make you some kind of monk or something, ya know? Celibate?” Katherine Heigl and Dean start making out. And I will not get all fangirlish and gush about how good of a kisser Dean must be. Nope. Not even a little bit. I will say that I think Dean will realize that this story is the equivalent of the “Backpacking in Europe” story on “Friends” and use that to his advantage. Thankfully, Lucy turns the light on and interrupts their necking to steal a bottle of booze from her place of employment. Classy. She then invites Lucy to stay for a drink, and much to The Virgin Dean’s delight, she agrees.

Sammy enters the Goethe Theater were Ethan Brewer works. He stalks up the stairs quite easily even though it doesn’t look like he’ll fit through the doorframe. He gives us a little gun porn, checking the clip in Dean’s ivory-handled gun before tucking it back into the waistband of his pants. The organ drones the theme of “Phantom of the Opera” as Sammy stalks into the auditorium. He can see the creepy, Gollum-like silhouette of Ethan Brewer pounding the organ through the screen. Sammy creeps backstage as the song reaches its dramatic climax. The giant hulk of a man silently approaches him as Ethan Brewer, who is wearing tighty whiteys and a tee shirt, stops the song, and turns on a jaunty beat, and begins to rock out with the organ. With guns blazing, Sammy grabs Ethan Brewer and throws him against the organ. “I see you had time to grow your ear back!” Sammy growls to poor terrified Ethan Brewer. Sammy starts tugging away, and nothing happens. “It’s supposed to come off!” “NO IT’S NOT!” Ethan Brewer protests. Congrats, Sammy, you’re now more of a freak than Ethan Brewer is!

Back at the bar. Lucy oohs and awws over Katherine Heigl’s ordeal. Katherine Heigl seems to be quite shitfaced. No sex for Dean tonight! Lucy, again, blots her lipstick and sets the napkin on the table. The camera tracks this indicating its EXTREME IMPORTANCE! Lucy makes small talk with Dean as he begins to feel the effects of the mickey she slipped him. He stares at his glass on the table, and it kaleidoscopes dizzily in an old school, bare-bones special effect. Dean clocks Lucy in the face and shoves Katherine Heigl out of the booth, and unsteadily stands up. Katherine Heigl passes out. “It was you, wasn’t it?” Lucy lifts her head to reveal that she is—as I suspected—a tranny! I knew it, the pronounced cheekbones and brow ridge gave him…erm, her away! Wait, Dean’s punch to the face just dislocated her jaw, which she sickly clicks back into place, revealing that she’s just a regular ole’ shapeshifter. Swaying, Dean kicks Lucy, and she rolls backwards, recovering in a ninja-esque crouch. Scrappy Doo is fading fast. He smashes a bottle of liquor, brandishing a nasty weapon. He threatens her breathily before passing out, faceplanting on the hardwood. Ouch.

Dean wakes up in Dracula’s old-fashion, castle-like lair complete with a mad scientist’s table of slinky tubes and bubbling beakers, lit candles and…a Frankenstenian table in which Dean is strapped to. Wearing lederhosen. WEARING LEDERHOSEN! HEE! There is no reason for him to be in LEDERHOSEN, but he is. And it’s hilarious! And now it is time for the Freakshow Monologue of Motive! Dracula, in full accent and camp, explains to Dean that Lucy was Dracula’s bride in the third movie, and he used her form to move among the people until he “discovered that his bride had been REBORN.” He stands just to the left portrait, and we all can see what an excellent bit of casting “SPN” has done, because Lucy actually looked like the actor playing Dracula (who is rockin’ this role by the way). It is one point on a very long list of beautiful, loving touches found in this episode. Dean chuckles, “I can’t get over what a pumpkin-pie-eyed crazy son of a bitch you really are.” Dracula punches him, and declares, “I am ALL MONSTERS!” Dracula continues his monologue, and argues that life is “small and messy” while movies are “grand, simple, elegant” and he has chose “ELEGANCE!” and he fans out his fabulous cape. (Dracula has never tried explaining this freaking show to friends, it’s not simple at all!) Dean points out that the murders weren’t at all “elegant.” Dracula duhs, “it is a monster movie after all.” Dean challenges, “do you realize what happens at the end of every monster movie?” Deano apparently hasn’t realize that Dracula is the star, director, AND screenwriter, and he is calling the shots. He proclaims that this time monster will get the girl and the hero, Dean, will get electrocuted. He theatrically eases to the giant lever on the wall and with slow, suspenseful movements he reaches for the switch as Scrappy Doo tries to escape somehow. Just as his fingers graze the handle, the doorbell rings. Saved by the bell! Dracula, ever the host, excuses himself, flutters his cape and glides the door. The lair is apparently in his basement as he closes a door and walks through the hall of a very suburban home. And people think the cities are dangerous. Crazy breeds in the ‘burbs, people! Thunder rumbles in the distance as Dracula opens to the door to a…pizza delivery boy. “Continue to be of search service,” he camps, “and your life will be spared!” Dracula, of course, hilariously recoils as he makes sure garlic isn’t on the pizza. This is the best freaking show EVER! The delivery boy smacks his gum and isn’t amused or scared or anything at all, really, he just wants the cash, so he can make the rest of his deliveries. Dracula understands, but wait, he has a coupon. HEE!

Sammy heads back to the bar. It is quiet. He tries to call Dean when he sees he’s not at the bar. He figures he is bedding Katherine Heigl, so he leaves him a voice mail. Then he sees the signs of struggle in the shattered liquor bottle and discarded glasses. The lipstick blotted napkin is the last piece of the puzzle, and bolts to Lucy’s house. How he knows where it is? We’ll never know or care.

In the chambers of Dracula’s basement lair, Katherine Heigl wakes up to find Dracula in his room, urging him to put on the gown, so they can have a romantic dinner of pizza. (And WOW, the pizza bit was so funnier now that I see it wasn’t written in just for comedy’s sake!) Katherine Heigl sobs about the betrayal and how severely damaged Dracula is. Enraged that she is not following his script, Dracula breaks character to rage, “PUT ON THE GOWN!” Katherine Heigl fearfully acquiesces.

Outside, Sammy makes quick work of breaking and entering Dracula’s house. He creeps down the hall and fade to black. Thunder booms, and we transition back into Katherine Heigl wearing her Emmy-winning…I mean satiny, white wedding dress that is actually beautiful on her. Dracula has great taste, and appears to be a gentleman as he has his back turned so she can maintain her modesty. “I scared you,” he says meekly without the accent or the Dracula bravado, “you’re the only one I don’t want to scare.” Clutching his cape like the Cowardly Lion clutches his tail in fear, he sighs, “I just love the movies.” Dracula hates reality because real is “being born this way” and “having your dad call you monster and he tries to beat you to death with a shovel.” Tearfully, he explains how he was constantly attacked and labeled “freak and monster.” Then he discovered monster movies, and “they were strong. They were feared. They were beautiful.” And now he is like them, “commanding.” “Lonely,” Katherine Heigl supplies. “I kill people because I’m lonely,” he says when Katherine Heigl states that he’s lonely because he kills. A noise from outside the room interrupts the non-campy speechifying, and Katherine Heigl thinks it’s Dean! She calls his name, and Dracula reflexively backhands her to shut her up, and knocks her out cold. Horrified that he hurt the one cure to his loneliness, he backs out of the room. CAMP ON!

In the castle-like lair, Dean is still to break free from the metal bars that restrain him to the upright table. Sammy enters with his trusty crowbar and frees Dean before Dracula can “Frankenstein” him. As Dean climbs off the table, Sammy notices that his adorably bow-legged little brother is wearing LEDERHOSEN. “Hey there Hanzel!” He taunts. Dean’s all, “CLOSET! CLOSET! CLOSET! YOU WERE IN THE CLOSET AND I HAVEN’T SAID A WORD ABOUT THAT SO OMG STFU!1!!1” Or maybe he just tells him to “shuddup” and Sam obeys. Man, Sammy could have taken that so far, but he was written as a fifteen-foot-tall wet blanket this week. Kira sad. Sammy gives Dean a silver knife. Dean gestures for Sammy to kick in the large pair of heavy doors, because he’s not kicking doors down wearing LEDERHOSEN, thank you very much. Sammy boots the door with his giant foot, and actually kicks through it and down go both doors, which were apparently completely fake! Hee! Sammy looks guilty like Lenny from “Mice and Men” would after he loves a bunny too hard. Hee! Sammy enters the bedroom, and finds Katherine Heigl unconscious on the bed. He runs to her aid, but Dracula pops up and literally hurls him across the room…into another fake wall. Sammy cracks his head on the real wall behind it and is knocked out. Dean’s pretty ivory-handled gun skitters away from him. “You vill never win, Van Helsing!” Dracula promises charged up to DEF CAMP ONE! Yay!

Dean attacks, but Dracula anticipates it and starts throwin’ ‘bows like an UFC fighter. Um, Dracula, not the face please. “And you, Harker, now, YOU DIE!” Scrappy Doo knees Dracula in the stomach. “How about now you shut the hell up?” Dean eyes his gun on the floor, and Dracula notices this and iron palms him to the face when he leaps for it. NOT THE FACE!111 Dean grabs his probably broken nose and writhes in pain. Bearing his fangs, he prepares to drain Dean like a Capri Sun when two bullets pop through his chest. Dracula gingerly pulls in his arms, “silver?” Swaying, he turns around, and a violin plays a heartbreaking tune as he discovers his Mina fired the deadly shots. In true monster movie fashion, he stumbles and staggers, “’twas beauty that killed the beast. No, Mee-na, do not weep…” Cut to Katherine Heigl sneering at the batshit, shapeshifting killer who won’t die fast enough. He backs into a chair, and wheezes on, “perhaps…this is…how…the movie must end…” With one grand sigh, Dracula dies. Sniff!

Fade into Dean kissing Katherine Heigl. “Thanks, G-Man, you have done a great service to your country,” she coos in-between kisses. “Oh yes, I’m very patriotic.” In the background, Sam is gawking at them. Ew…freak! Katherine Heigl pops back into the frame to gobble up more screen time. “You guys saved my life, so…thanks.” Um, sweetie, I know you “thanked” Dean a few times, but you didn’t thank Sammy. Get on it! “I like her,” Sammy decides. Sammy also admits that it does feel good to be back on the job. “Hero gets the girl. Monster get the gank. All in all, happy ending…with a happy ending no less.” Dean brags, wiping Katherine Heigl’s lipstick off his pouty lips. “it would be nice if life was movie simple…but if I was turning life into a movie I wouldn’t do this Abbott and Costello Meet the Monster crap.” Sammy argues that he know what movie Dean would want his life to be and a quick “No you don’t” “Yes I do” argument follows until Sammy brags, “’Porkys II.’” The lovesick, happy ending music kicks up as Dean tosses Sam a “lucky guess” and heads towards the Metallicar, because this episode isn’t about Katherine Heigl or a shapeshifter’s love of monster cinema or Dean’s metaphorical hymen. It is about the love between Sam and Dean. Sam is alive. Dean is alive. This whimsical, black and white adventure has brought them closer together after Sammy's betrayal. All has been confessed and all has been forgiven. And it’s only the beginning.

So, the show turned out just like I expected it to. I hated every second of it. I didn’t enjoy it at all, and it was stupid. I will never watch it again.

The Battle of the Pretty For This Episode WINNER: Sammy and Dean Winchester...they both looked fabulous!


Eva said...

I LOVE, LOVE your writing. You’re so sharp and great fun. I hope you’re planning more Supernatural reviews. Best season so far right up to Yellow Fever. I hated that episode on so many levels. Would welcome some of your fabulous snark!

K said...

Aww, thanks so much, Eva! It means a lot that you read the entire thing! I'll keep writing them as long as I have the time. I LOVE doing it. I have a ball. :)

Stay tuned for more.