Hunted
- Screaming in my Head
Original
Airdate: Jan 18th, 2007
John’s
burden, Dean’s fear:
Save Sam, or have to kill him.
Gordon makes Sam prey.
Supernatural
follows only one truly predictable pattern: every time a
question is answered, however satisfyingly, the answer itself
raises more questions. In Hunted, after 106 agonizing
days of impatient waiting and rampant speculating, we finally
learned what John whispered to Dean before he died: that
Dean had to save Sam, that nothing else mattered, and that
if he couldn’t save Sam, he would have to kill him.
Was
it any wonder that Croatoan pushed Dean over the
edge? He saw John’s words come to life: he failed
to save Sam from being infected, he fully expected that
the virus would turn Sam into something he would have to
kill, and anticipating what he would have to do when that
happened broke him. And when it didn’t happen, when
Sam inexplicably turned out to be immune … Dean realized
that he’d just had the merest foretaste of the rest
of his life, the dread he’ll face in his dreams and
his every waking moment. Save Sam, but –
save him from what, exactly? Sam immediately assumed
that the warning meant that he might turn darkside, a reasonable
conclusion given what he’s feared ever since realizing
what Max had done in Nightmare and what he’d
overheard from Ansom in Simon Said. This seemed
borne out in this episode by what the doomed Scott said
about his yellow-eyed demon dreams, and what Gordon recounted
from his exorcism interrogation of a lesser demon. But –
demons lie. And what did happen to Ava? Did she abruptly
and without any warning turn darkside demonic rogue and
brutally slaughter her fiancé? Was she taken somehow,
with no one like Dean there to save her, when her fiancé
was killed by a demon? (And is that kind of demon-snatch
disappearance what Dean must really save Sam from?)
Did she find her demonically deceased fiancé, freak
out, drop her engagement ring, and flee? Did her fiancé
turn on her, demonically possessed, to force her to kill
him, followed by Ava stripping off the ring in negation
and going on the run? Or was she never quite the sweet innocent
that she seemed in the first place? And could I come up
with any more abstruse options?
Gordon’s
decision to assume that Sam’s fate was ordained and
simply kill him to prevent it bodes ill for the boys’
future in the hunter community. By asserting that he had
Roadhouse connections to assist in his research, Gordon
implied that others may also know about the special children,
and specifically about Sam, so even if Gordon remains incarcerated,
other hunters of his like mind could come after Sam at any
time. And Gordon gave every sign of being fully as slippery
to hold as the Winchester boys, so I wouldn’t bet
against seeing him again. Gordon being a very intelligent
and methodical man, I would expect him to have disposed
of the knife he used to murder Scott, along with the gloves,
leaving no evidence to tie him to the crime. A weapons charge
for that backseat armory would occupy him for a lot less
time than a conviction for murder.
For
all the questions this reveal brought us, it also did answer
a lot, most especially about Dean’s behavior. Dean’s
heart hasn’t been in the hunt since John died; he’s
hunted only for distraction, and as an acceptable outlet
for the violence of his repressed rage. It’s been
almost painful to have every episode begin with Dean’s
earnest, impassioned voiceover from Wendigo, delivered
straight from the heart of his lifelong commitment to the
hunt – “I think he wants us to pick up where
he left off. Saving people, hunting things – the family
business.” – and to contrast that with
his current loss of mission focus and compassion. His shift,
however, makes perfect sense in the wake of hearing John’s
instruction: You have to save Sammy. Nothing else
matters.Considering the price of failure in that
mission (If you can’t save him, you’ll have
to kill him.), routine hunting really doesn’t
seem to matter any more, and the risk that a hunt would
bring on whatever it is that he needs to save Sammy from
just doesn’t seem worth the chance. Sam and John between
them defined Dean’s life: now he’s lost John,
and been left with the knowledge that if he fails Sam, he’ll
have to kill the brother he loves more than life. Dean’s
recent string of hard and fast decisions to kill without
hesitation, even in the absence of an obvious and imminent
threat – whimpering Mrs. Tanner, anyone? – takes
on a different complexion now. When anything might
be the thing, the imperative to save Sammy is all
that matters, no matter the cost to anyone else or to Dean’s
own equilibrium and conscience. No wonder Dean’s burned
out.
Not
knowing exactly what he has to save Sammy from
complicates the issue. Sam has been afraid of himself ever
since Max: the fear that he could turn into a monster despite
his best intentions has been gnawing at his mind for over
a year, and everything he’s learned since then has
simply strengthened the likelihood that this will be his
challenge. Knowing and loving the innate goodness in his
brother (“He’s got more of a conscience
than I do!”), Dean has staunchly resisted believing
that Sam could become like Max or Ansom, although he was
forced in Simon Said to acknowledge his growing
fear that it might be true. He clings to the “might”
in that statement, and to the truth that “might”
equally encompasses “might not.” And he clings
as well to John having told him first that he must save
Sam, which holds within it the potential that he could succeed
in the saving and avoid having to kill his brother.
In
his own beliefs, Sam has equated becoming a killer with
becoming a monster, and the words of the yellow-eyed demon
in Ansom’s and Scott’s dreams, repeated by the
lesser demon who “let it slip” to Gordon about
these children being soldiers in the upcoming fight, would
seem to support that. It suggests that the demon can claim
them somehow if they once start down the escalating path
of doing evil things – start by killing a cat, progress
to killing a human, go on to being a soldier on the side
of hell – and that it is using a variety of tools
to push the children in that direction. Max had an abusive
family, Ansom and Scott had influencing dreams, and even
fecklessly innocent Andy wound up killing Ansom –
whom the demon had warped and aimed in his direction –
to save Tracey and Dean. Sam has wondered out loud whether
Jessica’s death and the events of recent hunts may
have been tailored to get him, like Andy, to kill, and whether
his history of killing supernatural things may not make
it even more likely that he would then be predisposed to
go darkside. His fear of that consequence has magnified
his natural moral aversion to the idea of taking a human
life into a terrifying imperative that he resist killing
no matter what. I do suspect that, sooner or later, Sam
will confront the ultimate temptation to break that resolve
by having only a split second and no soft options to deal
with someone on the verge of killing Dean. Does he decide
to accept a nearly certain risk of losing his brother, or
choose to kill the threat and possibly lose himself? I’m
certain that idea is tacked up on the wall in the Supernatural
writers’ room just awaiting inclusion in a script,
if it isn’t in one already. And if Sam in some situation
chose deliberately not to kill in an attempt to
avoid going darkside, and someone innocent whom he could
have saved died, would that death, resulting from an essentially
selfish choice, doom him more certainly than if he actually
killed, as Dean and Andy have, to preserve an innocent life?
And
now, for a little head-spinning devil’s advocacy …
This
concept of temptation leading to a fall – with or
without a subsequent redemption – fits a lot of what
we’ve seen in Sam’s Supernatural story
thus far, and also meshes with classic elements of the archetypal
hero’s journey and the structure of tragedy and epic.
Just look at Eric Kripke’s favorite reference, Star
Wars. But the very fact that it fits so well and appears
to be the most plausible course makes me wonder if we and
Sam aren’t being led down the garden path to believe
something that may turn out not to be true. We’ve
had ample demonstration already that Eric has a twisty,
sneaky mind and a gift for mental prestidigitation; could
he be doing it again?
So
let me do a bit of supposing, and throw a few other half-baked
ideas out there to prime the pump of speculation. Mind you,
I’m not saying that I believe any of them; I’m
just exploring.
“If
you can’t save him, you’ll have to kill him.”
This fits chillingly well with the idea that failing to
save Sam will result in him turning/being turned into a
monster and having to be killed, but other plants could
sprout from these same seeds. Consider, if you will, whether
Sam could be taken as the sacrifice in a ritual, where killing
him first could become the only way to stop it. Or consider
whether the choice comes down to killing him, or letting
him meet a fate that would destroy his very soul or consign
him to hell. Or consider any other variation on the “fate
worse than death” scenario where a mercy killing (for
you Firefly and Serenity fans, call this
one the anti-Reaver option) is infinitely preferable to
the alternative of being taken by the enemy. If you want
to throw in other wild card options, feel free.
“He
says there’s a war coming, and people like me –
we’re gonna be the soldiers. Everything is about to
change.” Again, this perfectly fits the “special
children are recruits for hell” option. But it could
equally well say that the special children are potential
recruits for either side in the war, depending
upon who or what sways them in which direction. Sam, with
his well-developed conscience, built in aversion to evil,
and total absence of interest in power, seems a more likely
soldier in the service of good. Not to say that the bad
guys wouldn’t prefer to have him on their team, but
if it ultimately looked as if they weren’t going to
get him, they could be adamant about not letting the angels
have him either. Could that be why some demons – even
ones connected with the yellow-eyed mastermind, like his
“son” – have occasionally taken actions
that could well have killed Sam? That could even explain
why a demon “let it slip” to Gordon about Sam
being involved – not a true slip or weakness by a
tortured demon, but just another ploy to attack Sam from
an unexpected direction and weaken his potential support
network among other hunters. (Or, if Sam’s fears turn
out to be true, it could have been an equally deliberate
demonic plot to set Gordon up to hunt and be killed by Sam,
so Sam would turn darkside … yipes, I’m arguing
both ends against the middle!) And if the children are indeed
intended to be hell’s soldiers, and killing is the
means by which they are pledged to the dark side, what did
the bad guys gain by effectively setting up established
soldier Ansom to be taken out by the less practiced, basically
good Andy, who apparently had never been much tempted to
evil before and didn’t seem all that likely to turn
into a stone killer afterward, either? At best, the bad
guys swapped one for one, if Andy does go darkside: at worst,
they sacrificed Ansom for no gain, and put Sam more than
ever on his guard.
And
what did happen with Ava?
Have
I spun your head sufficiently yet? Mine is fully rotated,
and then some!
Parting
Thoughts
In
case this hasn’t been clear, I loved Hunted.
Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki manage somehow to keep
getting better: their performances were incredible. I especially
loved Jensen’s Dean in the scene by the water, telling
Sam what he didn’t want to say with all the pain visible,
venting his anger at John for having laid the burden on
him, and begging Sam for time; Dean in the house, with his
whole-body anguish at thinking that Sam had been killed,
and then the way he lifted Sam up, took inventory of the
blood and the bruises, and turned on Gordon with intent
to kill, only to yield his trust to Sam; and the scene in
the Impala, with his quiet, determined, I can try.
Sam’s competence, intelligence, composure, and marvelous
ability to kick ass were all a delight, and so was seeing
Sam in the Impala doing the heavy lifting of both forgiving
Dean and restoring the balance of their relationship by
teasing his brother with the ”What? Kill me?”
line. That spot was still too tender to touch without making
Dean flinch (”That is so not funny.”),
but it brought them back to the comfort of the “Bitch”–“Jerk”
camaraderie we’ve been missing lately. Sharing the
burden has helped them both.
I
also loved that Gordon remained a worthy opponent. He didn’t
devolve into the typical villain, undone by stupidly underestimating
his adversaries: he expected Sam and Dean to be smart, and
took steps to counter them. He lost not because he was dumb
or careless, but simply because Sam was better, and had
more at stake to fight for.
Hunted
was a marvelous setup for the second half of the season
and beyond. Jensen’s and Jared’s performances,
Raelle Tucker’s script, newcomer Rachel Talalay’s
direction, and the disorientingly appropriate use of Jefferson
Airplane’s “White Rabbit” all sent me
clean through the looking glass with new fears and questions
screaming in my head.
Added:
Jan 19th 2007
Reviewer:
Bardicvoice