‘Humor. It is a difficult concept. It is not logical.” - Saavik

That’s a “Go” for Ozzie!
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review – Season 2, Episode 18
“Hollywood Babylon”

Show has a tendency, as do, I presume, most shows, of offsetting heart wrenching episodes where someone we care about dies with funny, goofy episodes where tons of people die, only no one cares so as to soften fangirls up for the kill, which they present in the form of another heart wrenching ep. Such is the dark humor of Show.

This particular ep is one of the funny ones, only instead of two layers, juxtaposing the plotty bits against the relationship between the brothers, Show has a third layer where it throws in self-referential in-jokes, making the ep like a hatchwork pattern as the different parts try to intersect. It reminds me of Rice Chex cereal here, or like a pergola, which is pretty and all, but doesn’t much shield you from the sun. But, aside from that, aside from the fact that Show took a whole bunch on (with great faith in fangirls’ ability to get the joke, as well as with a good deal of self-effacing humor), this particular ep had some interesting insights about the boys. In addition to, of course, massive amounts of close-ups, shots of them in broad daylight, and much moving of cotton candy and raspberry mouths (Sam and Dean, respectively), so I’m not too unhappy. No, not at all.

The tale within a tale is about  a movie being made called Hell Hazers II, The Resurrection, a typical slasher film with stupid kids doing stupid things, most of the kids dying on account of that stupidity, and although we never saw this bit, probably massive amounts of unprotected sex, which is, you know, is more stupidity. In this case, “Wendy” decides it would be fun to recite Latin from some goofy book to raise the dead/damned/demons or whatever, and thus the trouble begins. (There’s also a theme about the struggle between creative minds, and the conflict between what’s jazzy as opposed to what’s real. More about that later.)

When I first saw the opening to this ep I thought, gosh, Show’s production values had gone way down because it was easy to see that everything was fake. But within minutes, a director calls cut, and there is much discussion as to the quality of screaming. I never get how actors can stare into a camera that close and emote like they do, to a tennis ball no less. What I do get, oddly, having never been a director, is a director’s frustration when his or her vision is being destroyed. So here, we have McG (which is another in-joke, as, ah-hem, one of the directors of Show goes by the exact same name), who insists that he’s the only one who gets to say cut (but nobody’s listening) and tries to keep a frenetic and upbeat smile on his face at all times. Being a director must be rather like herding cats or something; my sympathy goes with this hearty breed.

There’s a little tiny bit in the opening scene that I have to confess about. At one point, some stagehand, coiling up useless loops of something, starts talking about ghosts and how the set is haunted. The stage hand is dressed in coveralls, a baseball cap, and has stringy grey hair hanging around his face. And I swear to god, I thought turkeys could fly, because each and EVERY time I see this opener, I think I’m looking at Brent Spiner in one of those covert, quirky roles he likes to take. It always throws me, just like when I recently saw Paul Michael Glaser in an episode of Numb3rs. He was playing a bad guy (Brett Hanson, specifically) and I almost couldn’t handle it. I kept saying to the TV, “Don’t do that, Starsky!” Which is ridiculous, because I do understand that actors have to take different roles or they loose their juice, so I just need to pull up my big girl panties and move on. What I can’t understand is that even knowing better, I still think it’s Brent Spiner for at least a whole minute, no matter how many times I see this ep. (Note: Brent Spiner, who I will always think of as Data because sometimes my scope is somewhat limited, is NOT in this episode.)

Well, faster than you can say “10-54,” there’s something hanging from the rafters that is dripping blood and STILL looks like Brent Spiner. And thus Sam and Dean arrive on the scene. But oddly, instead of arriving via their beloved Impala, they arrive via tram tour, taking in the sights and sounds of an un-named Hollywood back lot. For some reason, the boys reckoned that the tram tour would be the easiest way to get on the inside, but I can tell you for a fact that tram tours don’t go anywhere near real filming. Yes, I know it’s shocking to hear, but it’s true. They go through unused lots only, then tell you lots of Hollywood history stuff, and then whip you through that special-effects avalanche thing towards the end. Believe me, I’ve taken this tour at Universal Studios several times over the years, and it’s always the same tour. So.

At the same time, this little scene offers some beautiful Sam and Dean shots. Both boys are so relaxed, I almost didn’t recognize them. Dean is sitting behind Sam, grinning from ear to ear, happy as only a little kid can be, exuding joy from every pore. He loves the whole idea of the excitement of the tram tour because Dean loves movies. And he’s gorgeous when he grins, you know, all sparkly and alive. I like seeing him like this; it doesn’t happen often. Then, sitting in the row in front of him, is Sam.  Now Sam is not as moved by the whole Hollywood thing, so he’s not smiling. But he’s still gorgeous with his hair hanging in his eyes and his marvelously long arm slung across the back of the seat.

Up comes an in-joke that, naturally, me being me, I didn’t get for quite some time. The tram tour operator is going on about “Stars Hollow” and a show called Gilmore Girls, which until quite recently, I had never seen. The tour operator tells everyone to keep their eyes open and they might see some of the stars of Gilmore Girls. Sam starts to shift nervously and swallow and twitch, and that’s the joke right there. For you see, Padalecki had a role on that show for five years (63 episodes, according to imdb.com), so, ha ha, Sam’s acting all worried in case someone recognizes him as Dean (which was, coincidentally, the name of Padalecki’s character). It’s a really complicated joke because, of course, Sam was not on that show, let alone the fact that he probably never watched it. It rather unsuspends my disbelief, which is, I would assume, not what a show wants to do. Plus, the joke is only funny if you know the Gilmore Girls reference. Yes, now when I watch this scene I feel very much a part of the Cool Kids of Fandomvilletown because I get it. At the same time, I think Show was assuming a LOT about what fans knew. Doesn’t make it any less humorous, as long as you are on the right side of the velvet rope.

Then the boys get off the tram, which is cute and all, but doesn’t really work for me. First, you aren’t allowed to get off a tram tour like this, and second, even if Sam and Dean are the types of boys who can thumb their noses at those kinds of regulations because they live off the grid (which they do and they do), and choose to deny the tram tour operator’s control over them, there’s no way that a six foot two hunk and his hunky six foot FOUR brother aren’t going to be noticed stepping blithely onto the pavement like that. Security is never called, and the boys walk freely through the back lot.

Part of the reason that the boys might be able to do this is that amidst the sea of people and characters carrying the ubiquitous bottles of water and cups of fancy coffee, Sam and Dean simply do not stick out. They look a bit scruffy and wear work-ready clothes, right down to their bleach-stained jeans and Dean’s boots, which, regardless of the actual brand, I’m pretty sure were purchased, used, at a Salvation Army or ARC store. As they stroll, shoulder-to-shoulder like a two-man battalion, Dean, adorably, thinks he’s seen Matt Damon. Sam assures him that he has not, but Dean doesn’t care, because if he’s seen Matt Damon, his star-struck jazz-o-meter has just gone up a few notches, and who knows who else he might see? (Which is what those tram tours are selling you, you see.)

The next in-joke comes up fairly quickly, as we see a huddle of men wearing work-ready clothes (designating them as, I assume, people who are doing honest work for honest pay) talking to a man wearing a suit (designating the guy who is not in the club). Gary Cole plays the suit and I’ll mention him here because I want to; he plays unctuous and smarmy like nobody else and the second he arrives on any screen, I know that I’m in for a treat. Anyway, the joke here is when the Suit asks if the scenes couldn’t be filmed a little lighter, and why does a horror movie have to be so dark? Not only does the Suit not get what horror is all about, Show actually received communiqués like this one, with requests that would throw Show completely out of character. (Apparently real studio execs thought this was an incredibly funny scene, and it’s great that they can take a joke and all, but I really wish they would get the point of the joke, which is that they should leave Show alone and let the creative minds, whose job it is, do their thing.)

Up walks Dean and Sam, with Dean being taken for a PA, only he doesn’t understand it because he’s still starry-eyed from the whole Matt Damon thing. (And I really do love those ratty holes in the knees of his jeans, you know.) Whereas only Sam knows what’s going on, and pulls them both out of the realm of too much scrutiny. Such is the difference between the brothers; Sam can read undercurrents better than Dean can, and I applaud Show for remaining consistent to character. (And for showing us what we already know, because, as a True Fan, this sort of stuff NEVER gets old.)

There’s some investigating (done by Dean), some filming of the silly horror movie, Dean eats (which he always does with great relish), and then Dean spots Tara Benchley, an actress known to him from a number of slasher horror movies, and of whom he is a Huge Fan. The scene where he walks up to her and starts talking is wonderful in lots of different ways. First, Tara is kind to the fan (Dean) which most actors are (especially in a one-on-one situation like this), and second, because Dean as a fanboy is terribly funny. With what the guy knows and has done in his life, the last thing you’d expect from him is to be in awe of anyone else.

Yet here he is, looking young and sweet and, yeah, awed, talking a lot, and practically dribbling because he’s in the presence of this woman, who, as we all know, puts her pants on one leg at a time, like everyone else. (And, for all the fangirling that Ackles has received over the years, I feel pretty comfortable in thinking that the wide-eyed, running off at the mouth, oozing with compliments presentation is drawn from real life. Trust me. I’ve not only seen it, I’ve done it, which I confess here only because it seems appropriate, not because I want to.)  As for Sam, he has been relegated to looking askance at Dean’s antics. But. Padalecki does those little twitches and nose wrinkles, and that head tilt (which really should be patented) with such great timing that half the fun is watching Sam react.

The boys quickly discover that the guy who looks like Brent Spiner but isn’t is actually a regular working Joe type of actor, who was called in to create a little buzz for the horror movie by dying on the set. The scene at the actor’s house is brilliantly lit; you can see freckles and tips of eyelashes and sparkles in eyes and I like it like that. I also like the consistency of Dean’s fanboy attitude. He knows ALL the movies this actor guy has ever been in, down the number of his character; he’s charming and attentive, and really, really willing to use that coupon for pepper steak. Sam, on the other hand, is not bedazzled, and, being all business, hustles them both out of there when he realizes the actor cannot lead them anywhere they want to go. The contrast between the brothers (as it is throughout the ep) is brilliantly done.

Back on the set, the Suit, who has been trying to interfere with the creative process AGAIN, gets hung by a ghost. No one is sad and shooting continues without a hitch (or not any hitches that can’t be overcome), with some more in-jokes about who gets to say “cut” and what the writer needs to do to up the ante on the horror aspect. The funniest part, though, is the fact that Dean has somehow acquired PA gear. We even get a close-up of his utility belt, from which hangs all sorts of techno stuff. I have been assured that this particular close-up was not for the purpose of viewing either the bleach stains on Dean’s jeans nor his crotch. However. It’s a really tight shot that goes on for some time, and I always wonder when I see it what I’m supposed to look at when the choices are a) utility belt or b) Dean’s crotch. Which would you choose?

Also funny are Sam’s attempts to talk to Dean about the case, with Dean talking to Sam at the same time he’s talking to someone over his headset. The timing for the conversation is rapid fire, bam, bam, bam, and when you add to that Sam’s confusion, which probably includes the mystified although unasked question as to how, since they’ve only been on set for like, five minutes, Dean managed to hook himself up not only with all that gear, but also with a responsible position, it’s hysterical. The “Yes, they are aware,” line always makes me laugh out loud because it’s something that Dean would never say, not like that.

And it’s not that Ackles is out of character, but because this is a side of Dean I’m not used to seeing. I can conjecture however, knowing my beloved boy like I do, that had Dean not been a hunter, he would have been a very productive member of society. Here, he’s slipped into being part of a team, and although he’s not high up in the pecking order, he takes his job very seriously, and what’s more, seems pretty content to pass along messages just as long as there’s plenty of free food at hand. This is what I meant by Show giving us insights into the boys, in that we see Dean as he might have been. It’s also a little sad when you contemplate how joyful he is here, and contrast that with the serious, frowny Dean we normally see. Anyway, I think this is one of my favorite scenes of this ep.

Dean’s integrated himself enough with the crew so that he can lead Sam to the sound guy, where they’re allowed to listen to the weird sounds on the audio portion of that day’s shooting. Let’s pause for a Samhair moment here, not unnoticed, but perhaps unsung heretofore now. There’s always something that gets me about how unaware Sam seems about his hair. I’m sure the Makeup People spend ages on each strand, and Padalecki probably does his best to keep it they way they put it, but as for Sam? Yeah. He comes across as fairly un-vain and completely unaware of the impact of his hair, that curling thing it does around his ears, the dark swath that is usually dappling his cheeks, and that sweet little toss of his head that he sometimes does to get it out of his eyes. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t own a comb, but, what use would he have for that when he’s got those long, graceful fingers of his to card through all that dark loveliness?

The discovery of potential supernatural goings-on leads the boys to view some of the dailies, which the boys do in a trailer swank enough to make me worry when someone is going to come by and kick them out. In addition to the scene pointing out that Dean’s also made friends with the guy who makes copies of the dailies, we get to see the boys communicating with half-sentences, and Sam at Work. Sam notices that there’s a ghost in the background of the clips, and he’s all concentrating and pointing with that beautiful forearm of his. And whereas Dean scolds him for not knowing about the little boy ghost on Three Men and a Baby, Sam shows his classic Hollywood prowess in that he can identify an actress from the ’30s using only 1 minute of film. (Plus, soon after, there’s more of Dean on his headset talking to strangers, and all the while Sam’s trying to talk about the gig to him; Sam’s confusion over the fact that, for once, he is not the center of Dean’s attention never fails to amuse me.)

The boys go digging in a cemetery to do a salt and burn of the aforementioned ghost actress, with brotherly banter as they walk through the headstones. It’s scenes like this that make me all worked up inside, because I know that, if Show obliges me, in short order either or both of them will be doing manual labor, waist deep in an open grave (which allows visions of sweaty, gritty manskin to dance in my brain), and that one of them will be lightning a match. This time around, it’s Dean; he’s my little pyro boy, and his joy in lighting fires is my joy to watch. Plus, any time they want to stand astride an open grave with the camera looking up in a long shot of their respective thighs is okay by me.

Meanwhile, the producer “Jay,” who has a tendency to be smarmy and offensive, gets attacked by a fan. I mean this literally, a large, spinning, wind-making fan, but of course the joke is not lost on me as what other kind of fan might be inclined to attack a producer on account of they’re not doing what the fan wants. In the morning, the boys dither about the fact that they have burned the wrong ghost, or perhaps it’s something else going on, when McG holds a pavement meeting and does a little ra ra speech and then sends everyone home, on account of the producer’s dead and all. There’s a nice little juxtaposition here of the ra ra with the sentiment of sending people home to be with their families, in spite of the fact that any delays in filming would cost the company money. What’s good here is that Show gives us this multi-dimensional character in McG who is gung ho about his vision but who also realizes that sometimes, people are always more important than money. (Oh, the humanity!)

There’s some lovely close-ups of Sam and Dean’s faces in the next scene, where once again in the trailer, the boys view the dailies. Sam uses his super smart ginormous brain to figure out that the invocation that “Wendy” is using to raise whateverthehell is real, and that this and not the ghost of the actress might be their real problem. The trailer is well lit, and the close-ups are excellent, I must say, especially of Sam thinking. His forehead gets this delightful squinched up expression, and his mouth kind of hangs open, all soft and pink, and his eyes glitter. I think he rather enjoys being smart, you know? He looks so beautiful when he does it that I rather enjoy it too.

The boys go talk to Flagg (the writer) about the invocations and quickly learn that the original writer, Walter, is responsible for those details, although Flagg had to change most of the script to make it jazzy enough for the screen. The boys are cute as they try to lie to Flagg (who looks like he doesn’t even notice any of their gaffes), but also when they figure out that Walter’s original script was actually much better than what Flagg came up with. The whole argument of real creativity vs. marketability is neatly inserted into the ep at this point, via Flagg, who seems to understand the difference, but has chosen to go with the money-making latter.

Soon Flagg is confronted by Walter, who has, we soon learn, been the driving force behind raising all those ghosts with revenge on their mind. All along, Walter’s character has been wandering in and out of scenes, clutching his original script, Lord of the Dead, muttering and moaning about how his creation is being ruined. It’s only on repeat viewings that this activity is apparent, because Show wove him in there in an unobtrusive way; it’s only when you know who Walter is that his distress becomes apparently. At one point, someone questions the effect of salt on ghosts (they don’t believe it and ask to have this taken out and replaced with some other condiment), at another point, someone questions how demons in hell can hear chanting on the surface of the Earth. Salt, as we know, can protect you from all kinds of evilness; just because it’s ordinary doesn’t mean it’s not useful. But it’s not special enough so out it goes. As for the chanting, TPTB decide to put in the overly obvious “explainer” that maybe demons have super hearing. The decision to replace “not jazzy enough” elements with jazzier ones seem typical of non-creative types who also never seem to understand that viewers are smart and can fill in the blanks and figure it out. (And that they might even enjoy doing so.)

The scene is very pointed in that Walter represents creative honesty and Flagg represents the opposite side. I have been told by people in the business that if you are a writer and you have a screenplay or a novel or even an idea, you should simply wrap it up and leave it at the California border, because based on what Hollywood will do with it, you are handing over your brainchild to an abattoir that will chop and slice and dice until what you dreamed and sweated over will come out completely unrecognizable by you. You don’t need this kind of pain, hence the leaving it at the border. Walter never had the benefit of this type of advice, so, understandably, he’s pissed.

Anyway, another of my favorite images from this ep is the one of Walter holding up the talisman, raising another ghost to kill Flagg. All the while, he’s glowering through his sensible, boxy black glasses, representing, I would imagine, a great many writers whose brilliant, creative, and original ideas have been destroyed over the years, all in the name of making things “jazzy” enough to sell to the general unwashed. He’s the little guy, standing up to the corporate powers who seem to think that they know what the viewing public wants, based on their statistical analysis of the 18 to 35 age category, and I’m all for looking at things logically, but what the hell ever happened to wanting to sell a great story? Oh, Hollywood, I worry about you.

Flagg is about to be destroyed by the same fan from earlier (heh heh), when Sam and Dean arrive to save the day. Dean arrives in a spectacularly dramatic way, shooting salt rounds from his sawed off shot gun, and standing over Flagg with his manly thighs spread, his coat blowing in the wind. He looks rather like a gunslinger at that point, and though I weep for the loss of Joyful Dean, I recognize (and lust after) the powerful hunter that is Dean. Sam, meanwhile, tries to talk sense into Walter with his you-can-trust-me voice, but to no avail.

There is running and shooting and hiding, and a beautiful Samhair moment as the boys and Flagg attempt to take cover in the three-sided cabin on the set. (The joke is, obviously, that the ghosts can walk through walls, but Dean seems more distressed over the lack of four of them.) Anyway, Sam’s hair. At the point where he pulls out his camera, I rather like to pause my DVD because this is when his hair starts flying about, getting into his eyes, all dramatic and artistic and stuff. It’s a really good Samhair moment, with enough power to distract me from the question as to how Sam knew that he would be able to see ghosts through the lens of his super duper camera phone. Yes, you can see ghosts, sometimes, and yes, they can be captured on film, but how the heck does he know that if you can’t see them, that you can still capture them on your camera phone? Hey, Mr. Director, I think we need an “explainer” here, could you write one in?

Sam hands over his phone to Flagg, and then chases after Walter. The confrontation with Walter goes badly; he gets grabbed up by the ghosts he set free, and is chomped to bits. Naturally, Flagg uses all of what he’s seen and learned and incorporates it into the horror movie. Naturally, Sam, who always takes the moral high ground, is quick to chide Flagg for using what he knows about the afterlife to make money, rather than to contemplate his soul. The good part of this scene is Sam standing there with his arms crossed over his manly chest, and, at six four, TOWERING over Flagg. I love the tall treeness that is Sam; he’s like a giant redwood with a mop of dark hair.

As for Dean, yeah, the tomcat has been spending some time with Tara Benchley in her trailer, which Sam discovers to his dismay. He is unmoved by the joy on Dean’s face as his brother exits the trailer, still enjoying his position of having the moral high ground. (The expression on Sam’s face is priceless. It’s not that he disapproves as much as he’s trying to figure out how to stave off Dean’s wanting to tell him every last little detail.)  As for Dean? If he doesn’t look like the cat that’s been in the cream, I don’t know what to think. This is one of my other favorite scenes in this ep, Dean coming out, shucking on his coat, looking all damp and sleep-tousled. And mostly, it’s his mouth, those delicious raspberry lips curved into a satisfied smirk.

And then there’s the last scene, as the boys walk, literally, into the sunset. It doesn’t matter that it’s not a real sunset, doesn’t matter that we quickly discover that it’s a backdrop, the point is well made. Dean and Sam, for all they interact with lots of people along the way, always go off together. That’s the way that it should be, and peace and God willing, TPTB will not only take this scene to heart, but understand it and give me what I want. Sam and Dean. Forever.

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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