Supernatural: Folsom Prison Blues

Angels With Dirty (And Unbelievably Beautiful) Faces
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review – Season 2, Episode 19
“Folsom Prison Blues”

This episode has the boys going undercover at the Green River County Detention Center in order to determine who or what is killing the inmates. It’s no “Shawshank Redemption,” but then, what is? However, in spite of the strictures of TV, it manages to push several of my buttons in unexpected ways, not to mention the fact that the boys are given lots and lots of screen time. Plus, there’s tons of prison tropes, like boys in chains, boys in interestingly fitted uniforms and goofy slip-on sneakers, boys behind bars, boys in prison yards, and last but not least, boys in the communal prison shower. What’s not to like?

I especially liked the backstory for this one. Apparently, this guy named Deacon (now a warden) once saved The Dad’s life back when they served together. He’s discovered something hinky going on, and has called in his marker for the boys to solve the gig, and that sets the wheels in motion. The idea that The Dad EVER needed rescuing is something in and of itself, and my mind insisted on ruminating over how it could have happened. Was it anti-aircraft shell fragments gone awry that Deacon shoved The Dad out of range from? Was it Deacon dragging The Dad behind safe lines after he got hit by enemy fire? Or was it something less violent and more along the lines of Deacon covering for The Dad when he went A.W.O.L. for a drink at a local pub? Why doesn’t Show even give us a hint? It’s so hard being a True Fan sometimes, when you don’t have all the facts.

Back to the prison, which is presented with an atmosphere somewhat less gritty than I would like it to be. I spent a summer one year working with a literacy program to assist inmates with their reading skills, and I can tell you for a fact that most county jails aren’t this fun. Nor are the inmates the nebulously half-nice, mostly nameless characters you see sprinkled around, although the floors are actually that shiny because the inmates really do spend a lot of time mopping them. Knowing this, and wanting more realism, I talked myself into putting up with the playground feel of the place, because of course, that’s not the point, is it.

The point, after all, is Sam and Dean. In prison. Doesn’t that have a nice ring? What is it about prison stories, the idea of conflict heightened by not only the constant threat of brutality but also played entirely within small spaces from which there is no escape that is so intriguing? Oh, who cares why. It’s sexy with teeth, and provocative besides, and watching Sam and Dean scuffle around in those slip-on Keds made me laugh.

Sam and Dean manage to get themselves arrested by bungling a B & E at the Arkansas Museum of Anthropology, which is funny all on its own because Arkansas and museums of any kind don’t exactly go together naturally. At any rate, heckling poor old Arkansas aside, the boys are soon photographed for identifying mug shots. Dean takes the whole thing in stride, making faces and cracking jokes, living it up like he’s in some kind of Steve McQueen movie. He’s not worried at all, unlike poor Sam, who is simply too hang dog about it for me to laugh out loud. I had to snigger behind my hand so he wouldn’t hear because the expression on his face tells me he really, really doesn’t like any of this.

Also in this ep we see the return of Agent Victor Hendrickson (aptly played by Charles Malik Whitfield), a character who I love to hate. Hendrickson is not just doing his job, he’s doing it well; he’s totally versed in Winchester lore, and knows more about the Winchesters than is perhaps good for him. But he’s painted them with such a black brush that none of the testimony that he’s received in their defense affects his determination to see both boys behind bars. Forever.

I love him for his dedication and professionalism, but I dislike him because he’s OUT to get Sam and Dean and that can’t ever be allowed to happen. Ever. But then I like him again because when Hendrickson comes into the interrogation room, where Dean is blithely waiting for his cheeseburger with extra onions order, and not only announces who he is but starts spouting off about the ramifications of all those grave desecrations, not to mention the three counts of first degree murder, Dean is discomfited. Which, as you know, never happens, so it’s a joy to see the confidence on Dean’s face flit away under his skin to be replaced by wariness; obviously the plan to go undercover at the county jail didn’t take into consideration Hendrickson’s mad skills at finding whomever he wants to find. Plus Hendrickson’s arrival adds to the urgency of the situation; the boys have to solve the gig before they can be extradited.

The boys arrive in chains at the detention center and are soon introduced to not only their new homes, but their new roommates. Carrying blankets and toilet paper, the boys each have their own reactions to their situations, which Show cleverly kept up with for the entire ep, making me laugh some more and realize that the ep was being played for that purpose, and wasn’t meant to be some serious exploration of the man against man conflict, however hard I might want that. (Although I did have myself several nice moments imagining how the initial processing at the front desk had gone. I won’t go into that here because it’s simply far too dark to bear repeating.)

Dean, yeah, he makes more prison movie comments, curls his lip in a sneer, and makes remarks to his new cell mate that alert me to the fact that with a face as pretty as his, he’s going to get himself into trouble very fast. (Yeah, bring it! The faster the better.) But poor Sam. He’s got the roommate from hell. I don’t know where they got an actor who is actually taller than Padalecki, but they did. Heck, maybe he’s standing on a box or something, but it makes it look like Sam is actually intimidated, which, like, as you know, never happens. As the doors slam on both brothers, check out Sam’s expression. It’s one of those “if looks could kill” ones, done to a T, and I happily anticipate more interesting conflict between the brothers.

One conflict is a lovely hallway conversation that goes on for quite some time (yeah!), and gives me a lot. First, there’s many, many, many closeups of Sam and Dean, as they discuss the gig and argue about ethics, and how can you go wrong there. You can’t. Dean is in his best snarl mode, playing it up as the sweet, new convict, talking out of the corner of his mouth to Sam, and, really, having a good time. He’s ready for whatever, and with the set of his shoulders, I can see he’s hoping there’ll be a fight soon. It’s rather refreshing to see Dean in this all out cocky mode, because within this environment, and all those walls and rules, he’s safe at home, almost without a care in the world.

And then there’s Sam, standing behind big brother, well, towering over big brother’s shoulder, actually, with his hair hanging across his soft eyes, and looking like he’d rather be a million miles from where he is. Sam-I-Am does not like being in jail, no he does not. He’s twitchy and nervous, constantly casting his eyes about, looking for trouble, and hoping it doesn’t find him. In a word, not in his element.

Second, the Lighting Guys must have been in an experimental phase, because what they’re using brings out some rather vivid pink and green tones to the boys’ skin, which contrasts rather abruptly with the orange uniforms the boys are wearing. It’s very stark lighting, and seems to represent the harsh reality of living within the prison system, a metaphor for the post-modern allegory to the amount of violence inherent in the system. (“Help, help! I’m being repressed!”) On the other hand, it could just be the Lighting Guys setting out to prove that Ackles and Padalecki are beautiful, no matter how you light them. Like we didn’t already know that.

Third, as the boys dither, they bring up the issue as to the kind of rough justice that the inmates are receiving, not by the system but by the random vigilante action of some vengeful ghost. Justice, after all, is about the calm, cool, collected application of a set of agreed-upon laws, not the action of a single individual for personal reasons. Sam is on the side of “they got nothing coming,” whereas Dean stands up for the individual, in that even if they are convicts and criminals, they don’t deserve to die like that. (There’s a fun in joke where Dean asks Sam if he’s from Texas; ha ha, both Ackles and Padalecki, as any good fan can tell you, were born there.) Lest this conversation come across as too serious, I’ll just take you back to thinking about closeups of Sam and Dean, were there presented for my enjoyment is every freckle, every eyelash, every dip and curve of soft lips, swathes of dark hair, and miles of beautiful bone structure. Shallow, opportunistic fan, I.

Next up is the lunchroom scene, with bad food that Sam can frown at in his classic, pissy way, and that Dean can tuck into like it’s his home cooked favorite. Besides their interaction being as cute as all get out, what I noticed here were the differences in their uniforms. As I mentioned before, they are wearing orange, in the shape of coveralls, although coveralls seem sort of severe for a detention center, with orange usually being reserved for high-risk inmates at maximum security prisons. But whatever.

Sam’s uniform hangs off his shoulders like a depression-era cotton dress, loose around the waist and hips; the collar, the seam that runs from the tip of the shoulder to the armpit, and the width of the cut across his chest, not to mention the floppy sleeves, are all loose, all wrinkled and foldy. He almost seems like he’s swimming in his clothes, which someone picked for him as if in an attempt to disguise his powerful physique, and make him appear to the other inmates as harmless. Well, folks, I got news. That ain’t never going to happen, though I like to imagine that Dean had a say in the choice, wanting his little brother to be well out of anyone’s spotlight.

As for Dean, he had a prison tailor attend to him. Check it. His uniform is more faded, but tight across his chest, the seam going to his armpit snug against the muscle, with the waist tucked in and narrow, emphasizing the spread of his shoulders. You can actually see the shape of him underneath his clothes, with everything tucked and tight, almost as if the uniform had been measured for him and then ironed before wearing. The goal here is obviously to let the world see Dean as the dangerous one; he might as well be wearing a sign that says, “I am a cocky upstart. Punch me, I fight back.” Plus he looks rather bad-boy sexy here, and once I noticed this, it was rather hard to take my eyes off him.

There is a staged fight that separates the brothers, sending Dean into solitary, and Sam to the crapper to hone his floor-mopping skills. I don’t mind the boys being separated for a while because not only are they still operating mentally as one unit, they are also beautiful, and there’s plenty of closeups to keep me amused. In solitary, Dean lolls against the cinderblock wall with as much alert casualness as though he were having his portrait painted. Heck, he IS a portrait sitting there, and even though his goal is to get into solitary to learn about the creepy ghost, I like to think that he’s in there, sitting rather still in the half-darkness, for MY benefit. So I can get some nice screen caps and endlessly wonder what’s going on in that sassy head of his. Ah, the remoteness that is Dean.

Sammy meanwhile, yeah, he’s mopping the floors, and talking to Inmate #42, making with his best “golly gosh” voice in the hopes that the inmate will give him the goods on what’s been killing other inmates. Although, there’s nothing inmates (and people) like better than to talk about gory stuff like that, so Sam was in the second he opened his mouth. Plus, he’s all sweet when he does this, not to mention the fact that somewhere along the line he decided to unsnap his top button so I can take in the swathe of white t-shirt against the warmth of his skin. Can you say clavicle bones are sexy? I knew that you could.

There is a plot to this ep, I promise you, there is, but I keep getting caught up in watching Sam and Dean deal with their situation, as I get the feeling that however much they discussed this particularly brilliant plan, they are currently in over their heads. I’ll admit I like seeing them like this, like watching them cope. Dean copes by fitting in, by playing poker in the yard with the other cons, and collecting poker stakes in the “currency of the realm,” which is, naturally, cigarettes. Sam copes by trying to stick to the plan, which soon involves Dean getting into another lunchroom fight so as to distract the guards to allow Sam to slip out and burn the bloody mattress that used to belong to their suspect ghost.

I like the fight scene because I’m weird like that, and because it brings Dean under the Mean Warden’s radar. (There always is one of these in every prison story I’ve ever seen. I think it’s required.) Not only is there weird, seventies-style porn music playing in the background, Dean also looses the fight with Tiny. And Dean, as you know, so seldom looses any battle he chooses to engage in, so the difference here was interesting. Plus, when the Mean Warden comes over, he grabs Dean’s face, and Dean sort of rolls his eyes over, and looks all of 12 years old, with the kind of “oh shit” expression on his face that he only gets when everything has really hit the fan and like he’s trying to appear meek and mild so no one will hurt him. As much. (Ackles has such a talent for shifting his face to make these age changes; one second he’s a round-eyed 12-year old, the next second he’s a cocky, 26-year old hunter, tough and experienced. All with the flick of an eyebrow.)

Sam goes off through the prison air ducts, which makes me wonder not only why does it always have to be ducts, but also, how in heckfire does Sam know where the ducts go and which one is the right one to take him to the old cell block? But Show knows full and well that I, as a True Fan, will be completely distracted by Sam’s slip-on sneakers (too cute) and his dusty forearms as he lights a bloody mattress on fire to worry about any of that. Am I that predictable that I’m taken in by this and totally willing to let the lack of logic fall by the wayside? Yeah, I guess I am.

Dean in the infirmary makes a very pretty picture indeed; he’s all bruised and battered and trying to apologize to Tiny for getting them both in trouble. In quick succession, the creepy ghost attacks Dean, he fends her off with table salt, and the ghost ends up killing Tiny, and Dean discovers that the ghost wasn’t who they thought it was. Here’s where the plot shifts forward, though, as back in the yard, Dean and Sam walk the fence line and dither. I love this scene particularly well, because the two brothers are talking in low voices, all of their attention on each other, shoulders curved in to create a half-circle, almost like their own personal cone of silence. And also because Sam’s in his waving-hands-about mode as he explains that he thought they were done and the escape plan is in motion. Particularly funny is the line where he says, “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but we are IN JAIL.” He wants out. He wants out so bad, and he’s wanted out since the second he got in. I love Sam for this; it’s just so real and sweet, this guy who’s not afraid of much, is totally freaked by being in jail.

I also adore Sam’s exasperation at Dean, like in the one bit where they’re trading cigarettes to Inmate #42 for information, and Dean doesn’t want to give up another packet. Sam does one of those voiceless head-tilts where he sort of winces at Dean, and Dean goes, “I earned them.” Sam, of course, knows that Dean doesn’t smoke (fans are still debating that one), and not only that, but that the currency of the realm is only valuable IN the realm. Then there’s the bit when Sam and Dean are talking in the lunchroom about how the ghost is a dead nurse, and Dean mentions something about having heard it “in the yard.” Which seems rather normal to me, but sets off Sam all over again. He says, ““Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?” And Dean says no, but the point is well made; Dean is able to fit in pretty much wherever he goes and I sometimes think Sam is jealous.

Dean talks to their lawyer, and tries to get her to gather information about the dead nurse. Whether she will or not is not as important as the subsequent dither in the yard, where Dean wants to stay and finish the job and Sam wants OUT. The boys have another fight, this time with each other. Or at least they start another fight with comments like “Don’t you walk away from me while I’m talking to you” (Sam) and “Screw you” (Dean). Alas, the Mean Warden pops by to stop the fracas, which denies me the pleasure of seeing the boys go fist to cuffs with each other. And it’s not that I want to seem them not getting along, and it’s not that I enjoy violence at any level, but. Yeah. I rather like the whole Cain and Abel aspect of their relationship, them fighting to see who’s the smarter, faster, stronger brother, who gets to decide when and where and who.

But the Mean Warden stops the fight and drags them off to the communal shower (it’s totally funny watching him try to pull Sam up by the collar; Sam is so very tall, as you know, so it just isn’t working. Still, he tries.), and sends off the other guard, and what I wanted to have happen totally didn’t because Show suddenly shifts into anticlimactic mode. The Mean Warden turns out to BE Deacon. You know. The Deacon that saved The Dad once upon a time, the Deacon who asked for their help, the Deacon who has arranged for their timely escape. Now it’s all smiles, gentlemen, smiles, as Deacon undoes their handcuffs and hands over the information from the lawyer as to where the dead nurse is buried, AND lifts off a panel from the wall so they can escape and get back to business.

It’s all a little too easy for my blood, and besides, you KNOW what I wanted here. Because although I can appreciate the need for a quick, two-minute tie up ending to the episode, and I completely realize that this is regular TV as opposed to cable TV, I wanted more. I wanted…how do I explain this. I wanted the menace inherent in a prison story to suddenly explode. I wanted the cruelty that seemed to be crawling just below Deacon’s skin to march to the surface and make itself known. I wanted the circumstances in which Dean and Sam have willingly placed themselves to become entirely unmanageable by them. I wanted there to be a raw and gritty showdown, a battle royale of sorts, where the boys’ survival depended on them being willing to fight not just the MOW, but also a living and breathing opponent; it’s easy to justify killing something supernatural for their survival, what if they had to deal with the ramifications of killing a real human being?

And. Truth? I wanted to see them fighting Deacon. I wanted to see Dean go down and he’s already been beat up a bit, so this would have been a logical consequence of a few good punches. And then, I wanted to see Sam, Sam who’s dressed like a sloppy non-contender, Sam who wanted out, Sam who hates being seen as a criminal, Sam who is frustrated with Dean for all kinds of reasons, I wanted Sam to rise to the occasion. I wanted Sam to leap into the fray, pull Deacon off Dean, and then, with a series of hard jabs (pow, pow, pow!), and maybe one good, final uppercut (BAM!), send Deacon to the floor. And then to pull Dean up from the floor with one good, strong pull, rescuing Dean, like Dean’s always rescuing him. In other words, in spite of knowing that it was a comedy ep, I wanted it to be played out with that gritty realism I mentioned earlier. I wanted it to watch like good fanfiction reads. Is that so wrong?

My consolation prize is (and a fine one it is, too) the very ending of this ep, with Sam and Dean digging in the dirt, in a cemetery, at night, no less. They are sweaty and manly, and then they straddle the grave, and big brother lets little brother light the match. That pretty much makes it a good day right there, but there’s more. Remember that lawyer I barely mentioned earlier? Well, Hendrickson, upon hearing that the Winchester boys have escaped, is sure she knows where they’ve gone. It’s very satisfying indeed to learn that she completely misleads Hendrickson, leaving him a frustrated mess of an FBI agent. So that makes it an even better day, because although I like Hendrickson pretty well, I never want him to win. Ever. And I’m not ashamed to admit that.

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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