Supernatural: A Very Supernatural Christmas

Pass the Eggnog, Don’t Forget the Rum
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review – Season Three, Episode Eight
“A Very Supernatural Christmas”

I love eggnog. I love eggnog with a kick. I love Christmas. That is, I do now. After watching this episode. Normally, I’m a woman who loves puppies in a bin, Hallmark cards, heck, even commercials for Hallmark cards, but I draw the line at Christmas. It’s an overdone, over commercialized, money-oriented holiday that every year seems to get further and further away from the foggy memories of childhood Christmases that I retain in my adult brain overrun with mortgage payments, gas prices, and the lack of any real effect that those dumb snow plows have on actual snow. They never scrape where they’re supposed to or when they’re needed, and half of them, I suspect, are just driving around till their next coffee break, and making it look like they’re working.

But this episode? Yeah, it brings it all back to me. Makes it Christmas, just like it should be. Which is a funny thing to say about a show that is, ostensibly, a horror show with scary monsters and two brothers with unhappy pasts and no fixed address driving a creepy looking car across the country looking for evil things to kill. Oh, and yeah? One of the brothers might be related to Satan, while the other brother is going to hell in less than a year, for certain. Unless the one who might be related to Satan can save him. How Christmassy is that, I ask you? Not very. Not normally. But this time? Yeah. Ho ho ho, it’s all coming back to me now.

Sam and Dean have to save a town from what might be Santa’s evil twin, but which turns out to be a pair of pagan gods who have taken up residence, and are practicing their religion with the full impunity bestowed upon them by the First Amendment. However, I think there must be something in that Amendment about not sacrificing people in the course of following said religion, so that leaves Mr. And Mrs. Pagan God out in the cold, and open to Sam and Dean’s pursuit. Which is at it should be, otherwise, there would be very little for them to do in this episode, except have some very sad and very moving memories of a particular Christmas past.

The Pagan Gods (I’ll just call them PGs, okay?) don’t bring presents, they take sacrifices, and the way they do that is by following home anyone who bought one of their wreathes made of meadowsweet, which, did you know, contains chemicals from which you can make aspirin and apparently is an invitation for the PGs to come eat you? And since the PGs get sacrifices (only two or three this year, way down from the hundreds they used to get) the winter weather is mild, which explains the unusual green setting of mid-winter Michigan.

Sam and Dean tromp through the town, and find a suspicious Santa in a Santa’s Village, which is, in a word, tawdry. They then pay a visit to the drunk and debauched Santa one evening (suspecting him of inappropriate touching among other things), with a HIL-arious attempt, as they try to get out of suspecting the wrong guy, to sing Silent Night, the words to which neither of the boy knows. Like, at all. Of course they wouldn’t. By all accounts, the boys know archery, how to handle a knife, herb lore, car maintenance, why you should keep your feet dry, and how to make a meal out of beef jerky and Mountain Dew. They know all the words to every song sung by BOC, Metallica, Meatloaf, and so on and yes, Sam knows the words probably unwillingly, but he knows them. And Dean knows them. But they don’t know Christmas carols. And while they may have heard Harry Belafonte singing Mary’s Boy Child in that sonorous voice of his, they probably not only could not sing along, they would have no idea what he’s singing about.

There’s a very funny scene when the boys talk to the shop owner who is selling the meadowsweet wreathes that lead the PGs to their victims. The scene has the overtones of gayness when Dean insists that Sam is the one who wants to buy a wreathe, making Sam the one to describe the thing in minute and painful detail. I about bust a gut when the storeowner says to Sam, “Well, aren’t you the fussy one?” (Hey! Only Dean gets to call Sam fussy!) The store owner is unaware that Sam could basically kill him with his bare hands, but the boys are used to the way people look at them, and can use the gayness to help them solve a case.

Then Sam and Dean track the PGs to their lair, and pick the lock to enter the dwelling uninvited, no doubt staining the carpet with the heels of their muddy boots and sneakers. (They’ve brought stakes made of Evergreen, and there’s a fantastic scene where Dean sharpens these between his marvelous thighs. Don’t get me started.) As they wander through the house, looking for something e-vile, I got the feeling that they really didn’t have a clue what all the decorations were about. Yes, in theory, but why someone would have seven (yes, seven) snow globes, piles of cookies, miles of garland, and a plethora of Santa statues, etc., only to have to take them down in a few weeks is beyond them. I guess that’s my problem, too, why put ‘em up if you only have to take them down? So I’m projecting onto the boys, even though, by the looks on their faces, they would be agreeing with me: what IS all this stuff? You know, cause for the boys, stuff is stuff, and either it’ll be useful in a fight, you can use it to wash blood out of your clothes, or you can eat it. Otherwise, it’s just stuff.

The PGs capture the boys, naturally, during a scene of great whumpage and knocks to the boys’ heads hard enough to render them unconscious. The PGs tie the boys up in the kitchen, facing away from each other. And then the gory fun starts. I thought I was going to come apart! The PGs they look like Ozzie and Harriet, but they have these wickedly curved knives, and they need to create a ritual before they actually eat the sacrifices, so that’s what they do. They start off slow, slicing into each boy’s arm, collecting the blood in a bowl. That’s not so bad, is it? The boys hiss and mutter very nicely and say the “b” word with much venom, and I was thinking it was over, but no. The PGs need a fingernail, and so, they rip one off of Sam. Ew. Ew and OUCH. Ever lost a nail like that? I have. My toenail on my big toe. Somehow it got ripped off, and my whole body felt it was on fire just from this little inch of skin being torn away. So my sympathies were entirely with Sam, who, you know, is screaming because it hurts so badly.

And then, THEN one of the PGs picks up a pair of pliers and goes over to Dean, my darling boy! And he’s going to take out a tooth! Without Novocain! Most people have had a tooth out at some point and it’s bad enough when the dentist gives you something for it. Nowadays, kids get laughing gas, and earmuffs, and a TV to watch, and I tell you, they’re soft. In my day, well, sometimes, you did without. Anyway, the doorbell rings, just in time to save Dean from a horrible fate, though whether it’s worse than getting a nail ripped off, don’t know. I want to tell the PGs not to leave the boys unattended, tied up or not, but then, they’re the bad guys, so I don’t say anything.

When the PGs come back, more raucous fun ensues, with the boys ripping up a Christmas tree to make instant spears, killing the PGs in a battle that is sure to leave bloodstains on that nice hardwood floor. And thus endeth the MOW plot, leaving me to wonder whether the boys just left the bodies of the PGs there on the floor, did they disintegrate, or did Sam and Dean dig a hasty hole in the back yard and drag the bodies there? No matter, another monster of the week has been dispensed with and the boys are free to enjoy their holiday. Or not, seeing as these are Winchester boys and you-get-the-day-off-with-pay events don’t seem to enter into their calendars much.

Instead, what we get is not only Dean and Sam angst-ing over the fact that this is, by the current plot, Dean’s last Christmas on earth, but we also get a magically sad and grey-tinted foray into the past to observe WeeSam and WeeDean celebrating a certain Christmas where The Dad didn’t make it home. (Which I’m sure happened more than once.) Get out your handkerchiefs, kids, it’s going to be a weeper. But in the best sense. The best it-makes-sense sense.

[nms:CW Supernatural,2,3]

Since he made the crossroads deal, Dean’s been doing a lot of things that he wants to do, like having wild sex with twins, or eating double cheeseburgers for breakfast, and so on. This week, he seems to be allowing himself a bit of softness, almost as though he’s looking at the decorations everywhere and having tender thoughts about brotherly love, peace on earth, and good will to men, as long as they don’t touch his car. I guess I’m thinking this because of the expression on Dean’s face, those long lashes such a lovely frame to the shine in his eyes. Maybe he’s not thinking about leaving cookies out for Santa, or hay for his reindeer, or even making a last minute dash to Kmart for anything, but he’s thinking. About Christmas. About what it means. What it REALLY means. About spending it with Sam.

Dean starts talking about Christmas. Sam doesn’t want to talk about it. Dean mocks Sam and calls him “The Boy Who Hates Christmas,” and wants to know how a little holiday cheer could be such a bad thing. It’s a weird flip for Dean under normal circumstances to be so sentimental, but he says it’s his last year, and he wants to have Christmas. The last wish of a dying man? Or the heart of gold we all knew was in there from the very beginning using this opportunity to create memories that will help him get through leaving the brother he loves so very much? And perhaps help Sam as well, when Dean is gone. And just how much more emo can this get? More. Much, much more.

Sam, stubborn thing that he is, normally corners the market on emo, and this week is no different. He doesn’t want anything to do with celebrating Christmas because not only have so many Christmases sucked, but also because this time next year Dean will be dead. And Sam actually SAYS the word, “dead,” making me want to check all the previous eps for this season, because I’m pretty sure they’ve always used metaphors in the past. Like, “me goin’ away an’ all,” or “when my time is up,” or “I’m not going to let you go.” Stuff like that. So Sam says it. Dean will be D-E-A-D and frankly, he doesn’t want to cover up the pain with any junky, over-commercialized holiday that was co-opted from the pagans by Christians many, many years ago and in oh so many not fun ways. I’m with you Sam. Some times there’s such a thing as too much sentimentality.

The filming of this scene where they talk about whether or not to celebrate Christmas is brilliant. The brothers are sitting on their respective beds, talking (or not talking, you know how they do), with the camera aimed towards the wall and going back and for the between the usual profile shots. And then all of a sudden, the camera takes a swing around the room and we are looking not at the boy’s faces, but at their backs. Backs that look tired and curled over with the effort of working through an emotional mess, their weird lives, and the stone-cold fact that they don’t have anybody else to depend upon and that one of them isn’t going to be around for very much longer. At the last camera angle, you can’t see their faces, and the rawness of their lives is conveyed through the backs of their heads. There’s no mouths or eyes or cheekbones, heck you can’t even see Dean’s eyelashes, for all they are so long. There’s just two backs and two heads, each slightly inclined towards the other, and dammit, if Padalecki and Ackles don’t pull this off with such grace and dignity and style, and all without a word making me wish I could cover Sam and Dean with kisses. Cause you know, stuff is just stuff, but kisses, well, they mean something to a Winchester.

But let’s not forget the The Ghost of Christmas Past who makes a grand showing in this ep, Weechester style. And you know, don’t you, that it’s going to be grim, grey, cold, sad, lonely, and blue, right? Well, it was. And then some.

Fans have been talking about this episode for a while now, and even I, as spoiler free as I can get, knew that this ep was going to have Weechesters in it, and that The Dad was not going to be there. Meaning that the boys, who are only little, were going to be on their own for Christmas. In the hind end of Broken Bow, Nebraska. Now, I’ve got nothing against Nebraska, you understand, but it’s a wasteland. The wind there never stops blowing, and in the winter, there’s a sheet of ice across everything. There’s no trees, you see, so there’s nothing to stop the wind. And whoever the sound effects guy on this ep was knows this, because there’s this constant sound of the wind whistling through the not-quite-so-solid windowpanes.

We get several lovely scenes with this sound moaning through them, and all of them take place in this bleak little motel room that has grey walls, bad lighting, cold brass bedsteads, ratty blankets, and to add to that, it’s really too cold to go out, probably not much warmer inside, and there doesn’t look to be anywhere they can even heat up a can of soup. And where is The Dad? I’m not going to get all mad or anything, cause I know he really does love those boys, for all he doesn’t seem to make choices with their best interest in mind, but I tell you what. I wanted to swoop in there, turn up the heat, bundle them in new red sweaters, order Chinese food, and have it delivered. Or maybe take them home with me, like I was their kindly aunt or something. I’ve got it bad for orphans, and these boys in this ep were about as close to that as I’ve ever seen. I had the almost unstoppable urge to feed and clothe and care for. Maternal instincts, who me?

The first flashback involves Dean looking out the snowy-frostbitten window while Sammy wraps a present for The Dad, which Sam says he got from Uncle Bobby. He’s wrapping the present using the remains of the Sunday funnies (That’s comics to you whippersnappers out there), and yes, one year my family decided it would be fun to wrap all the presents in newspaper and red ribbon. So we had a stack of newspaper at the end of it and newsprint on our hands, and it was a mess! But the funnies don’t get on your hands like that so I think Sam and The Dad will be okay.

Sam wants The Dad home for Christmas, because he’s a sentimental little guy, and Dean tries to reassure him that yes, The Dad will be home, I promise. Then there’s an argument (which there always will be when you leave siblings at home alone) about The Mom (because Sam, for some reason, is not allowed to talk about her), and Dean marches out of the room. Dean leaving Sam alone like that, when they’re as young as this, Dean at 12 and Sam at a very precocious 8, cast some concern for me, because Dean’s been told time and time again not to let Sammy out of his sight. But I guess he was too upset by Sam’s questions about The Mom and forgot. Again.

[nms:CW Supernatural,2,1]

Also, I’ll confess I had a little problem with Sam in this episode, not because he wasn’t adorable or because they got a different child actor to play him, but because he didn’t have dark enough hair. Yes, yes, I know, some kids are born tow-headed and their hair darkens as they grow older. Maybe I’m too attached to the Samhair growing on Jared Padalecki’s head, but I think the young Sam we saw in “Something Wicked” had really dark hair that went everywhere, and that was just as it should be. It’s the little things you treasure, you know. And for me, Samhair, dark and uncontrollable (rather like Evil Sam, eh?) is one of them. But there are always bangs in WeeSam’s eyes, so that helped.

The second flashback, Dean comes back into the motel room with bags of junk food, including what looks like Funyuns, which Dean refers to as “vegetables.” This is typical Dean in my book, who has been known to eat donuts and call it breakfast. And Sam, true to his nature, starts to ask why, why, why, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes his brother. And, even more typical of Sam, he’s already got the answers to his questions, he just wants to see what Brother Dean will say, and, perhaps, wants to see what Brother Dean will lie about. Sam demonstrates how much he already knows by bringing out The Dad’s journal, which he’s not supposed to touch and starts talking: about monsters, how The Mom died, and what The Dad REALLY does for a living.

Dean is forced to tell Sam that no, there’s no Santa Clause, but that Sam should cheer up because every other nasty and bad thing out there IS real, and that Sam’s not to worry because The Dad and Dean will protect him. This freaks Sam OUT and he starts to cry, which is totally in character, and who could blame him. Not me. It’s bad enough to find out that Santa doesn’t exist (and no, no one has told me that yet, so be quiet), but to find out that what you think might be under your bed is real and could eat you? Sam climbs into bed (wearing worn out sweats and ill-fitting black socks), and sobs into his thin, grey pillow. And poor Dean, he just sits there next to Sam while his brother falls asleep, not knowing what to say, but really, he’s only little himself, and I think he’s in over his head.

If Sam didn’t know about monsters and evil things before this Christmas, he knows now. And I know that The Dad who was willing to check under the bed for 8 year old Sammy, will, in about six months, be no longer be willing to do this, and instead will give his son a 45 pistol so he can chase his own monsters. This future for WeeSam is canon and seems to loom over him like a specter. In addition, Dean’s defense of The Dad, a superhero in Dean’s eyes in spite of the evidence to the contrary, sounds old and thin. Especially in view of the context, a dingy motel room, a fatherless Christmas, and the entire atmosphere of abandonment and neglect.

And here’s a question for you. Dean unequivocally says in “Wendigo” that The Dad never lets the journal out of his sight, and the fact that he left it behind at that time is a message that the boys should continue in the family business (say it with me now) “saving people, hunting things.” So what on earth is the journal doing in a motel with two minors? (Minors not miners.) Either The Dad forgot it, which I think is highly unlikely, or Sam filched it, in which case he is in big, bad trouble. I’m sure Dean’s going to cover for him though, when The Dad gets back. But maybe that’s another one of those self-made fanfilms in my own head.

The third flashback shows us Christmas morning that Dean tries very hard to pretend was perpetrated by The Dad. (So seldom do you see a character made more potent by his absence than The Dad.) Dean wakes up Sam (who has pulled the ratty blankets up as high as he can in his sleep, but which, since they are ratty, is not very far), and tells him that The Dad left the presents. However, the one person Dean can’t lie to is Sam, so this doesn’t go very far. Still, Sam appreciates the stolen presents (he quickly finds out they were stolen from a house down the street when all the gifts turn out to be for a girl), the Charlie Brown-looking tree in the corner (also stolen, no doubt), and the effort that Dean went to. So, he hands over to Dean the present he was intending to give to The Dad, because The Dad lied to him and is not there. Some fans might have seen this one coming but I didn’t, and would you just guess what the present was?

It’s The Amulet. The one Dean ALWAYS wears around his neck and has a hairy conniption over if any one tries to take it off him. This is the story Kripke has been waiting to tell, and the one fans have been waiting to hear. And really, it’s quite satisfying, that the amulet was given to him by Sam, who loves him more than anything or anyone in the universe, and I don’t think I’m exaggerating here. And maybe because Sam loves him so, the amulet protects him from being possessed. (Dean’s the only one in of the three who’s never been possessed, you know. Plus, I wonder what Bobby thinks when he sees Dean wearing a gift that was meant for The Dad?)

In flashback land, WeeDean is played excellently by the actor who played him last time. He is freckled and gawp toothed, going through a growth spurt, his hair a ragged mess, and his clothes, frankly, are only good for the dustbin. He’s doing his best to take care of his little brother, taking on the parent role with a steadfastness even some real parents never attain. He is verbally snotty to Sam while at the same time every single one of his actions speak of all the love and worry he had for his little brother every minute of every day.

WeeSam had older Sam down pat, from his frank, appraising stare at WeeDean when he knows Dean is lying to him, to the amazing and sudden waterworks when his ideas about a perfect world come apart. He’s persistent and curious, he does things on his own, and he’s just independent enough to drive Dean crazy. Sam has got hair in his big soft eyes, looks like he could desperately use a hot breakfast, and looks at Dean with implicit trust, because there is no Santa, there is (really) no Dad, there is only Dean.

Except for Sam’s lack of dark Samhair, they’re perfect. In every way. When Show returns me to the present day, I have the uncomfortable feeling that two young boys have been left behind in the past, shivering through their Christmas morning with only a stolen Christmas tree to light their way. You know that tattoo I’ve got that says I’m Kripke’s Bitch? Well, I’m going to get the tattoo guy to put a big huge TEAR under that so that I’ll have a marker about how I feel about the Weechesters.

The final scene somewhat makes up for the bleak and Dickensonian memories, because in walks Dean (okay, he struts in) to their rather cheery yellow and green motel room (which is a great contrast to the bleak motel room in the flashback), beer in hand, and lo, The Boy Who Hates Christmas (that’s Sam) has made a party for them both. Sam is being the brother he wants Dean to be, as difficult as it is for him. He’s bought decorations, he’s put them up, and he even bought eggnog and spiked it with rum. If Dean was all soft-eyed previously in the ep, now he’s practically misty with it and it’s not the rum in the eggnog doing it to him.

Guys give lousy gifts especially when they think holiday shopping should be done at the local quickie mart and they don’t have a mom to tell them otherwise. But there’s a lot of love in that room, love that expresses itself in funny little things bought with leftover change (oil for Dean’s baby, a candy bar, shaving cream, and skin mags), even though stuff is just stuff. And in the way Sam says “Hey, Dean-” but leaves the rest of it unspoken, but which any fan could tell you is full of promises to save his brother. And there’s love in the simple silence of sitting there with the one you love best while the snow softly falls outside of windows where no wind can get through.

And here I’ll bet you thought Kripke could only make TV about stuff that was scary. Well, it’s just not so. Kripke manages to blend horror and pathos, he includes the Weechesters, and gives the boys this Christmas moment that is so perfect and normal, I’ll bet there’s millions of moments just like it that will be going on across this country come Christmas morning. It’s so normal that I don’t think the boys, especially Sam, recognize it for what it is. This is what you’ve been looking for all along, Sam. Merry Christmas, Mr. Kripke. Merry Christmas, boys.

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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