Supernatural: Provenance

Pictures Ain’t Perfect by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Season 1 – Episode 19

This episode is about a painting with an ugly past. You buy it, and you die. The painting has strewn blood across decades, and it takes the Winchesters to see the pattern and set things aright.

Here’s the basic plot – Comparing an entry in Dad’s journal with a newspaper article pulls Sam and Dean into a gig where they investigate a painting of the Merchant family. The painting, more in the style of Grant Wood than Grandma Moses, seems connected with a series of deaths, most recently the Talescas. This leads them to Daniel Blake’s auction house, where they learn the painting had only recently been sold to the dead couple. Dean urges Sam to use his wiles to get close to Mr. Blake’s daughter, Sara (who wears enough lip gloss to keep her afloat in a flood), to find out more about the painting, and this in turn, leads them to break into the auction house to slice the painting out of its frame and burn it.

To their shock, horror, and dismay the boys discover that the painting is still intact and has been sold to Evelyn, a woman with lots of money and no taste. The painting kills Evelyn, and Sam and Dean are too late to save her. The incident does, however, convince Sara that there is something foul afoot, and she agrees to help them. They figure that the ghost of Isaiah is coming to life and slicing people up so they research where Isaiah is buried, and then dig him up and salt and burn his bones. This should lay the matter to rest. They go back to Evelyn’s house to make sure, and discover that burning the bones did not help. The killer turns out to be the little girl Millicent, who is also in the painting. She comes to life and traps Sam and Sara in the house, intent on slicing them both up her trusty straight razor. Dean rushes off to burn the little girl’s doll (which contains Millicent’s hair), thus saving the day.

This episode seems to be about two things at the same time.

The first has to do with what we think evil looks like. When the boys see the painting, they assume that Isaiah is the murderer, his ghost slicing up the people who bought the painting of his family. We, the viewers, buy this theory because the painting shows him as bitter and mean, and frankly, he looks the part. But the true culprit turns out to be his adopted daughter Millicent. Millicent, also in the painting, has soft dark curls and white pinafore, and could not possibly be the murderer. Turns out, she murdered her first family, and then her second. There is no explanation for her actions, and Sam surmises that she was just born bad. So not only were we wrong about Isaiah, we really can’t explain Millicent’s evil nature. And that’s just the way life is. (Plenty of viewers would have spotted her right off, I reckon, but I tend not to see the purloined letter, maybe on purpose, so I was nicely surprised when it turned out to be her.)

The second has to do with something far more fun, and that is watching Dean try and get his brother Sam laid. As he works on this, this creates so many cute scenes that the episode seems to devote itself to more to this than to the M.O.W. plot.

The cuteness begins with Dean flirting with gals in a bar, getting phone numbers, giving out his enchanting smile and hackneyed one liners, and all the while Sam is the good boy. He is looking at Dad’s journal, going through his pile of papers, and frowning studiously. When Sam waves his brother over to show him what he’s found, Dean brings yet more beer to add to the untouched stack already hogging the table at Sam’s elbow, while Sam expresses his displeasure (with that lovely snarl) at Dean lying about who they are this time in order to pick up chicks. (Note Mr. Padalecki as he slips almost lovingly into a Texas drawl when he says the words “rock stars.”) Dean says that they are L.A. TV scouts, and to his credit, he wants to pick up a chick for both of them. Simply no one can be derisive as Sam, and then follows the usual dither over whether this is their sort of gig or not. Sam wins, as he tends to do. The morning after shows Dean sleeping in the Impala, as worn out as an old dust rag, leaving me to wonder or not he took both chicks home. Frankly, I wouldn’t put it past him.

When the boys later go to the auction house to investigate, we see the Impala in the parking lot, cheek by jowl with BMWs, Cadillacs, and other cars of that ilk, the dirt-crusted, broken-headlight facade of the Impala looking for all the world like a poor relation come to the wrong wedding. (Check out the reference to Kripke in one of the license plates.) The boys, with some gall, swagger into the auction house, bleach burns ablazing on their jeans, to chomp on mini-quiche and mistake the owner for a waiter and demand more champagne. Actually, it’s Dean, naturally, who swaggers and chomps and demands, and he does it with such bad-boy flair, you’d think Sara would have gone for him. Maybe she would have, had she seen him first. Dean notices Sam and Sara looking at each other, and you can see it start in his eyes, ah-ha! Little brother might could get laid!

[nms:CW Supernatural,3,0]

The hotel room in this episode, where many brotherly discussions about this very thing occur, is almost its own character. It’s a silver-lined, retro-glitzy, plastic-chaired nightmare that should also boast a glitter ball and eight-track tapes of disco music. Happily, it does, along with a silver silhouette of John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever on the Do Not Disturb tag, which swings to the beat as the boys take in their new abode, and remark upon all the finery with a pair of matched and unimpressed grunts. It is here, among the Heffneresque padded headboards and fluffy things, that Dean tells Sam that Sara was checking out his butt. (I would really like to speculate on how Dean knew what Sara was looking at, but don’t want to go there.) Dean also tells Sam that he should hook up with Sara and take one for the team so they can get on with the job, which makes the prospect of you-know-what sound a whole lot more painful than it should.

Sam and Sara go to dinner (in spite of Sam’s reluctance to use Sara so ill), and while I can’t imagine how she could eat anything wearing all that lip gloss (lip gloss which, I’m sure is either Lancôme or Stila, it’s that opaque), I do have to give her points for making Sam feel at ease by ordering beer. While in their cups, they tell each other their sad tales, and I’m forced to remark upon how cute Sam is when he is hiding behind his bangs like that, just as he’s trying to hide his heart from more pain. It makes me want to sweep his bangs aside with both hands, kiss him on the forehead, and tell him that everything is going to be alright. I’m also distracted by those teeth of his, those slightly crooked teeth of his as they press against the inside of his lips. Around these parts we call that teeth porn, and it gets me hotter than a votive candle every single durn time.

Later, after the date, we see Dean sharpening his knife on a whetstone, and I’d like to take the time, now, to slow down and examine this scene. (I assume he’s got more than one knife, but he’s just sharpening the one. Frankly, I’d enjoy watching him do anything with those hands.) He’s bent forward with his elbows on his legs, and the camera is just at the right level for me to get a nice ole glimpse of inner thigh and all the territory that goes with it. Not to mention those forearm muscles, tight, stroking away as he takes care of his tool. (I love a man who gets grease in his knuckles.) There’s also something nicely old fashioned about a man using the kind of whetstone that Dean is using. It’s a thick, fat one so you know he bought it (or acquired it by some unlawful means) because he planned on using it for quite some time. Did he buy the little box with the lid, or did he make it? At the same time he’s doing this – this thing, he’s questioning Sam as to whether little brother got it on with Sara. His voice lowers, making me shiver, as he asks whether any special favors were exchanged. Then, when Sam calls for his attention (which I always get the feeling he can hardly do without for long), Dean tightens those thighs, pushes himself to standing, and shuts the whetstone with a click. Such a nice sound. Such a controlled putting away of one business so he can deal with another. Dean can always be counted on to set aside the needs of self for the needs of Brother Sam.

The scene where they break into the warehouse to get the painting is mostly funny on account of the blooper reel, which shows Mr. Padalecki catching his leg on one of the fleur-de-lis as he scales the top of the gate. (I guess we’re just lucky he didn’t snag something else, either on the way up or the way down!) Still, later, watching Dean light a match to set the painting on fire, gives the camera (and me) an opportunity to see Dean’s face all lit up and golden, as if it reflected the fire within. There are two other opportunities for this in this ep alone (though Dean as pyro runs through the entire season), when Dean burns Mr. Merchant’s corpse, and also where he burns the doll. The fire seems to symbolize something about Dean, which I cannot quite put my finger on as yet, but which puts me in mind of a lava flow, deep underground and that you cannot see, but, when it comes to the surface, you had better get out of the way.

Okay, enough symbology, on to the next cute bit and that is when Dean pretends to have lost his wallet to get Sam back in contact with Sara. As they tear through the motel room, Sam asks nastily why this is his problem (as if his brother’s lost ID and money have nothing to do with him), but at the same time, is easily lured back to the auction house. Enter Sara and her lip gloss, while Dean gives Sam twenty bucks to prove that the wallet was never lost and that, he, Brother Dean, has taken the high ground once again. Dean then licks his lips (ooooh, baby) and strides off. (Mr. Ackles is one of those actors who can, apparently, act out of the back of his head, because in this scene, he makes the set of his shoulders and back tell us that that was Dean’s job for the day and that he feels he’s just done it well. And you can’t even see that adorable face of his!) Sam is a rush of confused cuteness, trying at the same time to talk to Sara (and make sense), and keep his eye on where Brother Dean has gone. It’s almost like he doesn’t know which one is more important to him. Finally he goes after Dean. (Yeah!) As the brothers get in the car, they slam the car doors at the same time, but the blooper reel shows us just how many takes it took them to get this right.

When the boys go the library to research Isaiah, we get the usual Sam as geekboy and Dean looking askance at the dust, but we also get some hidden cuteness. The librarian, raring to share all of his files on the Merchant family, is almost panting as he holds up the front page of an old newspaper. His fingers are quick to point out the article about how Isaiah gave his whole family a close shave, but he completely ignores, ha ha, the headlines about the Titanic going down. A regular riot, no?

A short, cute bit occurs when the boys are back at the motel discussing the painting (they have a copy that the Titanic-blind librarian gave them), and Dean wonders whether there are clues to be found inside of the painting itself. Sam asks, “Like a Da Vinci Code deal?” And Dean, looking sweet and confused replies, “I dunno, I’m still waiting on the movie.” Meaning that he’s not read the book, unlike everyone else in the country at that time. (That is not to say that Dean never reads. I think he does, he just doesn’t like to be caught doing it.)

Then Dean gets up from the plastic table and strides towards the camera which, may I add, is at crotch level. (And that, honey, is what the slow-motion button is for.) He flops himself on the bed, presses his darling head against the padded headboard, and crosses his arms over his chest. (Please try to ignore my brain as it extends this scene into a totally alternate ending.) Besides stretching out for the delight of my eyes, he begins his argument as to why Sam should get laid, and why Sara is the most likely candidate for this. (Put your hand down, Sylvia!) At first, he says it’s because Sam is cranky. And then he sits up (when this doesn’t work) and in a heartfelt, sensitive, and frankly, un-Deanish way (his hand actually on his heart), explains that while he has never lost anyone the way Sam has, he knows that this is all about Jessica, and feels that Jessica would want him to be happy. Sam replies, oddly, that this is not just about Jessica, but in the end, calls Sara.

Later, in front of the library, we witness uber-cuteness as Sam and Sara parlay and Sam plucks a fallen eyelash from Sara’s face on a blunt fingertip, which he holds out to her so she can blow the eyelash away and make a wish. (This scene makes me wonder why Sam is not inside researching, which would be more normal, but I think it was a plot device so Sam could be outside being cute, which he does very well.)

Having discovered that Isaiah was buried in a pauper’s grave and that there are bones to burn, the three trundle to the local bone yard and dig up the body. Sara is grim and brave, the boys are sweaty, and Sara, with her Mary Hartman hairdo, delivers a sterling one liner, “You seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with all this.” Sam quips back at her, “Still think I�m a catch?” When they go back to Evelyn’s house, Sam and Sara mount the steps to go in, and Dean turns up the romantic music, hoping to set the mood for some hubba-hubba. Instead, he pisses Sam off, and the brothers gesture at each other silently. Sam scoffs, and Dean’s wide open arms ask “What did I do?” but in the end, he is forced to turn off the music. No hubba-hubba ensues.

When Millicent comes to life, Sam and Sara are shut inside the house, while Dean is separated from Brother Sam by a huge door that will neither yield nor go down, and he is frantic as he searches for a way to get in. (He is even less able than Sam, it seems, to bear any brotherly separation.) Sam finally uses his cell phone to calm Dean down. Sara brings up the antique dolls the auction house used to collect, and Sam delivers the snappy comeback, “That’s nice Sara, but important right now?” (Mr. Padalecki’s delivery of this line is dry and derisive, acting the typical male who imagines that a mere slip of a girl, lip gloss and all, can contribute nothing.) However, the gang figures out that there are still, in effect, more bones to burn, and the plot pushes forward at a furious pace.

Dean races off to the family tomb, while Sam, his hair ablowin’ in the wind, is left to battle the tiny ghost girl with a fire poker. As usual, he becomes trapped behind heavy furniture while the ghost goes after Sara, and meanwhile, Dean does his own comedy routine in the tomb trying to get at the doll behind the glass. First, he pounds on it with his fists, then he bangs on it with the butt of his gun. Finally, after sharply reprimanding himself, he shoots bullets through the glass, hauls out the doll, and sets it on fire, thus saving the day, his face aglow with flames. In the nick of time, too, as back at the house, Sam grunts his way free from the furniture, and launches himself on top of Sara to put his long, long body between her and the ghost’s straight razor. Then, poof, the ghost disappears, and Sam is left doing pushups on top of Sara. (And oh, how I wish I were she.) Dean calls and asks Sam, “Are you good?” Sam replies, “Not bad.” Need I mention the miles of innuendo here? You’d need a good stout stick to poke at it all.

The ending scene starts with Dean walking off from Sam and Sara, that lush mouth a pout, muttering about how no one ever thanks him. Sam and Sara share an awkward goodbye, and Sam prepares to leave. Then at the last minute, he turns back, and pulling Sara from the doorway, in a move worthy of Rhett himself, takes her face in those long-fingered hands of his, and kisses her, his mouth open in anticipation of something sweet. The sweetness, I’d say, is watching the abandonment with which he performs his adoration, and the pleasure Dean gets at Sam’s pleasure, as he watches the standing nuptials, the Impala at his side. “That’s my boy,” he says to no one, his voice as proud as any father’s.

Sylvia Bond is a ten-year technical writing veteran with too many degrees under her belt to count. She lives in Colorado, but does not ski, preferring instead to spend her money and time at the annual Great American Beer Festival, taking road trips across the United States, and reading historical fiction from the comfort of her fluffy green arm chair. She has been involved in fandom since 1993 and been writing fanfic since approximately 1993. What she finds most amazing about fandom (besides the open heartedness of fans and the sheer amount of creativity) is how visible fandom has become. “In my day,” she says, “we had to hide behind P.O. boxes to get fanfic. But nowadays, people wear t-shirts that shout their affiliation and share their shiny toys on the internet.” It’s a wonderful world.

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