Supernatural: Nightmare

Visions and Other Questions
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review, Season One – Episode Fourteen
“Nightmare”

This particular episode represents the high quality of Season One, and is worth many repeat viewings. It is also interesting on account of the MOW is human. In fact, there is more than one human this week who could qualify as a monster, not least of which is Max’s Dad. But let’s start at the beginning and give you the plot, so you know what I’m talking about. Sam has a vision about someone dying. Dean and Sam race to save this guy, and find instead his son Max, who is like Sam. Max has special abilities like Sam, his mother died in a nursery fire like Sam’s did, and Max is very confused, like Sam is. Only instead of talking it to death like Sam does, Max starts killing family members. In the end, he shoots himself, and the boys, though saddened, carry on to the next gig.

This episode opens with the boys in a skanky motel, asleep, and already I’m happy. Both of them, I note, sleep on their backs, as if in readiness for any bad man that might break in and hurt them. This I would not want, though I feel the boys would be quite ready for him. Then Sam sits straight up in bed, sweating from a nightmare that feels very real. In fact, it feels so real to him that he gets up, starts packing, and wakes Dean. Starts barking out orders that they have to go. Now. (Dean waking up is totally cute. He’s so sleepy and messy and kissable, though why he’s wearing that clunky watch to bed, I’ll never know.)

The fact that Sam is calling the shots is not only unusual (at least at this point in Season One), it’s hot. It’s unusual because up to this point, Dean has been calling the shots and Sam has been tagging behind and kinda sorta doing what he’s told. And it’s hot because Sam goes striding across the room with those long legs of his, giving orders, and expecting they will be followed. I’m sure that this is a trait of The Dad’s and sure enough, when Sam snaps, Dean falls into line. Sure he’s curious what’s going on but he goes along with it, figuring that if Sam is this worked up about something it must have some validity. Not that he’s not leery, but you can tell by the look on his face that this is his normal response to someone barking out orders to him.

Not to say that Dean is a doormat, I love him too much to think that. Nor is he a yes-man, he’s got too much smarts for that. More, he’s displaying his attributes of being a good soldier as well as his flexibility in adapting to the needs of others. Every family has roles and each family member fills one or more of them. Because the Family Winchester is rather tiny (but never equate size with power, right kids?), Dean switches between roles depending on what’s needed. Moreover, it’s cute watching Dean follow Sam around.

They drive through the night for a few hours to get to Saginaw, MI, which on account of them doing this on Sam’s say-so must have been some kind of whacked-out trip. But Dean hits the gas and off they go. Let’s just say he’s got the Impala up to a rocking 70 mph. Let’s just say. Take into consideration slowing down for slick roads and stupid logging trucks. Allow for Dean to actually stop the car so Sam can pee. Even if Mapquest gives them a three-hour estimate, I can guarantee you, from experience, that it will take them an extra hour at least to get there. Regardless, Show doesn’t give me this on-screen, so I can either be a very demanding fan and say I WANT. Or I can do what I usually do, which is view my self-made movie in my head, and imagine the rather romantic on-the-road scenes, the stopping at gas stations, and perhaps a quick interlude at some greasy spoon.

The boys arrive too late to save the guy, which turns out is not a bad thing, because he was a bad man. Sam gets a little emo here and Dean consoles him (as he does), but what I love about this scene is the dither. It’s good, old-fashioned dither, where the boys lean up against the Impala (in the rain), hands in pockets, watching the suburban people milling about, talking about what might have killed the guy. The Sam seriously doubts it was suicide, Dean thinks maybe it might have been a vengeful spirit, and I get the feeling that they think they are walking into a normal job.

There’s some brilliant camera work here, as we watch the boys from the back, their shoulders cut against the chill of the night, standing outside the warmth of community, standing apart, the aliens, the outsiders. They’re used to this, I realize, but it must bug Sam something awful to watch people living the life he once led. Or tried to lead. Also cool is the fact that Dean is so laconic here, it allows Sam to fall apart a bit. Dean notes that little brother looks like crap, and settles himself in for a bumpy ride. (Keep your eye on Sam during this episode. Periodically, he’s sweating, as if so worked up he can barely restrain himself.)

When the boys go to the wake of the dead guy, Show gives me a treat and that is the boys parading around as Catholic priests. Dean, and you might be as shocked about this as I was, does not make a good Catholic priest. And it’s not that he’s too busy shoving cocktail weenies into his mouth (or as we inexplicably call them at our house, “da dogs”) either. When his mouth is empty and he opens it to offer words of divine solace and comfort to Max’s stepmom, he trips over his own tongue and earns himself a severe scolding glare from little brother. The effects of which chasten him not at all. And why should it? Sure, he’s a rough talking, leather-jacket wearing, blue-collar boy who might as well have a ciggie dangling from his plush mouth as be kneeling for prayers. But that doesn’t mean he should be hounded day and night for failing to pretend to be something for which he’s not got the least bit of training. Does it? A resounding NO from the fangirls, WOOT, WOOT.

Sammykins, on the other hand, makes a delicious priest, with his hair Brylcreemed down and his deep, green eyes paving the way for all sinners to find redemption. Oh, were I that sinner in need of saving and Sammy himself would come and wrestle for my soul. (Or wrestle me, come to that, though I have a feeling that my girly powers would be no match for the wrath of God in THOSE muscles.) When they arrive at Max’s house, he seems to know instinctively who needs saving and who he can leave to the tender though religiously inept mercies of Brother Dean. His voice takes on the right tone, his expression is sweet, and no one, and I mean but no one at that wake doubts for a minute that Sam is man of the cloth.

However, had they seen the outtakes for this ep, people at the wake might be singing a different psalm. Now, one of my guidelines is to not mention outtakes. But seeing as they’re only guidelines anyway and self-imposed ones at that, I’m going to make an exception, simply because the eroticism of the boys dressed as Catholic priests cannot be overstated. The real scene has Sam and Dean coming to the door as Catholic priests in order to assist at the wake. (I say “assist” because I guess that’s what priests do when they’re not molesting little boys. And when they’re not doing that, they stand around, look imposing, chow on the free food, and lord it over everyone how soon they will all become dust just like that DEAD guy over there. Nice huh?)

Anyway, back to the priests at the door. In the outtakes, a knock is heard and the door is opened. And there stand Ackles and Padalecki, in sleeveless priests’ garb, preening and posing like two Chippendale dancers. EXACTLY like two Chippendale dancers, only these boys are so good looking, they’re sexier than the real thing. I can’t say which actor does it better, and I’d rather you didn’t make me choose. Ackles has got that manly chest bursting at the seams and buttons. Not to mention that angelic face that almost but not quite outshines the naughty-boy gleam in his eyes. And have I talked about his mouth yet this time around? Yeah, take a look at that. Ackles’ mouth is the reason why God invented kissing. Then there’s Padalecki, who’s got the simper and the coy down to a fine art, not to mention that flaming turn to his mouth, with those arm muscles bunched up like coils of rope ready to entice you into sin. Padalecki is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. The whole outtake is GUH worthy and I only wish that I had me some dollar bills to stuff where they ought to go.

Plus I wish, oh I WISH I’d been a fly on the wall when the lads came up with this one. Oh, the cackling and giggles of glee there must have been! And I can’t even begin to guess what they said to each other, but they must have egged each other on, double-dog dared each other, and then finally howled out loud as they found a way to rip out the seams of their costumes. (Contemplating the “where do the suits and other dress-up garb come from” question, I’ve determined that the boys are singularly good at hunting down costume rental places and suits for hire shops. Plus, in a town the size of Saginaw there is likely to be at least one of these locales for the boys to utilize. I still wish Show would give me some indication about this in the dialog or something so I don’t have to worry about it any more. Also so I can concentrate on more important things. Like Dean’s Mouth and Sam’s Shoulders.)

Next up, the gun cleaning scene, which also includes some nice brotherly dither. I’m not sure why I keep forgetting about this particular scene, but I do. This surprises me because to a True Fan, it’s practically pornographic. Not in the regular way, if there is such a thing, but in the fannish way. And that’s because this scene contains two wonderful things: Dean cleaning his guns in the coolest motel room ever! The motel room looks like a rustic cabin, with wood panels, a hunting motif, and, of all things, complete with full sized birch trees. It’s beguiling to think that the set decorating team spent this much time on a single motel room, but it adds a certain flavor to the ep and gives you the idea that there are even quirkier motel rooms all across the country. Whenever I see it, I start humming “from the land of sky blue waters” and wish desperately for a Hamms beer, even though the ep actually takes place in Michigan.

But the gun-cleaning scene, oh, lord. I can hardly manage to watch this without wanting chocolate or cigarettes. It’s a simple scene really, and probably done just to add texture and realism to the weirdness to balance things out. There’s something about the mundanities of the boy’s lives that draws me. It might be that images of them doing regular things evokes the romance of the road. Plus, when you juxtapose this against the whole saving people, hunting things, I get kind of excited.

Anyway, Dean’s sitting on one bed. He’s got a cloth down on the other bed, and spread on top of that are all his guns and his gun cleaning paraphernalia. I like it when the boys use their hands for common tasks. I like it especially well when they seem to be enjoying themselves, as Dean does here. He’s so nonchalant, so elegantly reposed, hardly looking at what he’s doing, relaxed enough to be talking. You know, chatting about nothing just because. Yeah, that kind of relaxed. And, to be honest, he probably smells like gun oil. I once had a boyfriend who was a bicycle mechanic, and he smelled like WD-40 and Mennen cologne, which is about the cheapest brand you can buy at a drugstore. Nevertheless, the combination of cologne and oil just SENT me. So if Dean smells anything like that, anything like he looks? It’s no wonder he’s got me all worked up.

Plus, in this scene, Sam has another vision. Dean is at once attentive and brotherly, showing me some nice forearms as he tends to Sam collapsed on the floor. Sam sees some guy getting decapitated by the old window-sash-doubling-as-guillotine trick. The death is bloody and messy, and the boys light out to investigate the scene. When they show up, I have to laugh because they pull up on the curb in the Impala, and needless to say, Max’s uncle runs for cover. And this in spite of their supposedly reassuring shouts that they’re not priests! But I’d run too if they showed up on my curb like that, wouldn’t you? There’s cool shots of the boys climbing and breaking and entering, and finally they scurry up the fire escape, only they’re too late.

Dean decides they need to clean up their fingerprints. What’s with the bandanas? Yes, I love it that Show acknowledges the existence of fingerprints, finally. (Considering how many times they’ve probably done this, I’m surprised there aren’t more warrants out for their arrest. Surely they’ve left behind more fingerprints than they’ve wiped up?) But watching Dean pull not one but two bandanas out of his pocket is terribly funny to me. He takes them out with a flourish, like a waiter at a fancy restaurant laying a napkin in your lap. Plus, why two? People don’t normally carry more than one, if that many. Or is Sam not allowed to carry his own? Heck, Dean should do what the Victorians used to do and pin the damn thing to Sam’s shirt bosom. Thataway, he won’t loose it.

Back in the Impala, the boys drive to the motel. Sam talks the night’s events to death, as he does, and Dean listens. Sam is sweating again, which is cool, and he’s talking about how the family is cursed. It’s pretty clear that Dean does not agree with this; he has only happy childhood memories, apparently.

In the morning the boys (delightfully dressed as priests again) call on Max, who has just lost his uncle. Dean is pretty positive that the house that Max used to live in was haunted, so his questions insinuate strange goings on there. Whereupon Max gets a little worked up. I love how his reaction allows Sam to make some inferences that all was not well with Max, and it has nothing to do with a haunted house. Poor Max. This leads the boys to talk to a former neighbor of Max’s, and we find out that Max was abused for years. YEARS. The neighbor called the police many times, and Sam and Dean find out the shocking truth: That Max’s mother died like Mary did, in a freak accident. And then we get another vision. What’s cool about this one is the way that Sam turns to Dean and Dean swings his arm around Sam’s shoulders and hang who is watching them. Sam needs comforting, and what little brother needs, little brother gets. (I love the way Padalecki makes the visions look painful; I don’t envy him them.)

The boys discover that Max is the one doing all the killing. What’s interesting is the division between the boys as to what needs to be done. In Dean’s mind, Max is a murderer who’s already killed two people and will possibly kill again. He needs to be put down like a rabid dog. In Sam’s mind, however, Max is a human being and therefore beyond their jurisdiction. To Sam, only supernatural things are within their pervue, so he’s aghast at what Dean thinks they ought to do. Sam wins the day this time, and gun in hand (I think it’s a 1911 pearl-handled Colt, which is purportedly Dean’s favorite gun), they go into Max’s house. Which, humorously, abounds with neighborly casseroles.

Max is a live wire at this point, ready to off his stepmom with the cutting knife. (There’s some nice special effects work here, as the gun comes close enough to flick a tear from the stepmom’s eye.) Sam manages to calm things down. Only Max espies Dean’s favorite gun, which is tidily tucked away inside of Dean’s blue jeans. Show gives me a lovely little eyeful of Deanskin. Then Sam uses that voice he uses when all hell is about to break loose. If he were to use that voice on me, I do believe that he could sell me a piece of London Bridge. Max certainly falls spell to it, and allows Sam to lead him aside so they can talk.

They do talk, at least for a little bit. Max is on the edge, and all the while, Sam does his best to be soothing, attentive, and calm. Which must have been difficult in the face of what Max was telling him about his horrible life. I get the sense that Sam is, as he has been, comparing his life to Max’s and the normalcy that surrounds him. Here, however, he is able to see that in spite of living the dream, Max’s life comes up short. Plus Sam learns here that his mother died just the same way Max’s mother did, that Max’s dad blames him for it. Sam tries to convince Max to let them all go, but, alas, Max explodes. He says he’s sorry and shoves Sam into a closet, and the bars the door with a very heavy china hutch. Then he goes upstairs to kill his stepmom.

Thus ensues one of the most impactful (and supercool!) events of this ep, which is the sudden display of Sam’s telekinetic powers. Max’s powers, at this point, are established as being creepy and really out of control. Sam is trapped in the closet and along comes one of his visions wherein he sees Dean stepping between the gun (rather like he believes that since it’s his own gun, it can’t hurt him) and the stepmother and gets a bullet in his brain. Now you know and I know that all of Sam’s visions come true, right? Well, Sam knows it too. Thus with the image of his brother tumbling to the floor with a new hole in his head, Sam grits his teeth and grunts. I’m sure he has no idea what he’s doing and neither do I but I’ll be by golly if that dang deal dresser didn’t just giddy up and move out of the way. Sam is able to rush to save Dean (always a lovely sight), and convinces Max not to kill Dean, and gets to watch Max turn the gun on himself.

Sam must have been overjoyed to come across another individual like himself. Well, not like him exactly, no one could be as beautiful nor, at the same time, as tall. (And, frankly, I wouldn’t want to see Max damp from the shower dressed in only a towel. Would you? Poor Max.) But think of it. You’re the only one of you there is. For years, you feel like that blonde chick on the Munsters. Then, voila, up shows this guy who is like you, who might be someone you can talk to and share concerns with. To whom you can complain about your PIA older brother. And then what happens? Max goes and shoots himself in the head. Too bad for you, Sammy, but that’ll teach you to reach out to anyone else other than DEAN.

Then there’s the troublesome issue of child abuse that raises its ugly head in this ep. This is through the character of Max who, we learn, suffered horrible beatings at the hands of his father and his uncle. As a result of this abuse, when Max discovers his special powers, he starts kill relatives and there is much bloodshed. Sam is also just discovering his powers these six months hence and has killed nothing but supernatural beings. From the comparison it is safe to assume that Sam’s childhood was unlike Max’s in crucial ways. Sure, it was a whole lot more transient abut I’m sure he didn’t get roughed up on a regular basis like Max did.

But. I remember this ep as having telling evidence of John being a “bad dad.” But before I got on that particular bandwagon, I made myself really watch what was being said, and think about what it really meant. Sam says that they are lucky to have had The Dad. Dean is surprised to hear Sam say this. Then Sam says, “Well, it could have gone a whole ‘nother way after Mom died. A little more tequila, a little less demon hunting. Then we would have had Max’s childhood.” In response, Dean says exactly nothing. He makes an evasive glance over his shoulder. And either he has nothing to say or there IS nothing to say because it’s all true. The whole “a little more, a little less” comparison implies that there was tequila and enough of it for Sam to comment upon the fact that a drop more of it would have turned The Dad into a raging alcoholic. Combine that with a little less hunting, a place where one can safely channel anger, would have meant that the boys would have tasted The Dad’s rage as often as Max did from his father. The fact that it could have been a whole lot worse meant that it was bad enough.

Then I remember what was said earlier, when Max was telling Sam his tale of woe. Max says, “When my dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?” And Sam? He shakes his head no, and I believe him. Sam compares his life to Max’s. Max’s life has normal written all over it, and normal is something Sam desperately wants. But in the end, Max’s life comes up short. So I’m thinking, yeah, I will not get on the “bad dad” bandwagon, Sam-I-Am. (Not in a box, not with a fox, not here or there, not anywhere!)

John Winchester is a man who raised his kids as warriors, dragging them from pillar to post, teaching them the nomadic life, teaching them how to thumb their noses at authorities. Hell, with they way they lived, they might as well have been living in Idaho as in the back seat of the Impala. It would be easy to throw stones at John Winchester (or stow thrones, if you know that old joke) when you look at his glass house from the outside. But John Winchester, however and stern and demanding he might have been, never abused his sons. The fact of the matter is, he loved them. He was an attentive parent and took his kids with him wherever he went and that couldn’t have been easy. Okay, I’m definitely not getting on the bandwagon now.

He’s a dangerous man who does bad things for good reasons. Show’s genius is to give us sparse information about this character and not a whole lot of even that. The result is a wonderfully ambiguous character who after showing up in only 11 eps stirs as much interest and passion as his sons. Who, when going full throttle blasts every other character off the screen, including my own true loves, Sam and Dean, and that’s saying something. Plus, as I have said before (and I’ll say it again, on account of I like to hear myself talk) even when he’s not on screen, he is.

In the last scene, the boys are packing to go. I’m sad that they are leaving such a cute little motel room, but they can’t let the grass grow under their feet, now can they. Why they’re packing to go when it’s dark and they could surely use a good night’s sleep is beyond me. Be that as it may, they are going to leave. Dean does his brotherly best to reassure Sam that he’s nothing like Max, etc, making jokes about bending spoons and stuff. Besides which, Sam’s got something Max never had. Sam is being a bit dense here, but it’s adorable, because Dean proudly announces that HE is that one thing, and that while Dean is around, nothing bad can ever happen to Sam. Aw. That just gets to me. Can you imagine such a thing, being that loved? (Everyone should have a Dean in their life.)

Then Dean, to cover all this up and with mock-seriousness, announces that they need to go to Vegas. This is so Sam can use his new mind powers to help them win at the craps table! But the very best part? Yeah, when Sam goes out to the car, the camera takes one last long and loving look at Dean’s face. Where you can see his worry and his concern and the new burden he’s taking on, looking after his younger brother who now has creepy psychic powers. It’s a burden he’s willing to bear, because Sam, as you know, just ain’t that heavy.

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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