Supernatural: Sex and Violence

These Are My Hands; This Is My Skin
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review – Season 4, Episode 14
“Sex and Violence”

This episode was more about the brothers than any I’ve seen in a long while. Moreover, it was about both brothers at the same time, rather than it being about one brother and the other one is off getting his teeth cleaned or something. (And they both have nice teeth, which tells you something right there.) I have a fondness for brotherly interaction, as you know, so this ep, with the Cain and Abel overtones, the spying and the lying, a whole mess of discord, not to mention a gig that takes such an interesting twist towards the end there, really worked on many, many levels. Why, I’d say it made me fall in love with Show all over again. And falling in love is such a nice feeling. All those oxytocins, does a body good and stuff.

The basic premise is that something odd, perhaps supernatural, is happening to men in a town in Iowa, where they kill their wives (there is much bludgeoning and blood-spattering of female characters, anti-misogynists arise, arise!), confess to the deed, and mention a strange woman who promised to love them forever. Sam and Dean, disguised as FBI agents (which seems to be their incognito du ep, and while I don’t mind the suits, I miss the scrabby jeans), enter the scene to investigate, call Bobby for information, find out that it’s a Siren, Sam sleeps with the hot doctor, both brothers completely miss the opportunity to set a trap (with one of the brothers as bait), and, in the end, Bobby saves both their hides. You know. The usual stuff.

And while you could have very well watched something else on Thursday night, you would have Missed Out. Good grief, I think some people who work on Show might have actually sat down and talked about the script for this one. Thought it over. Maybe even worked from a storyboard or an outline, of all things. Even perhaps (GASP!) consulted some kind of continuity guideline that the underutilized Continuity Guy worked so hard on. (“Both boys’ eyes are green. Make sure they stay that way.” “Dean does not like shorts; never write him wearing any.” “Sam’s hair is his trademark; never cut it.” “We’ve set a precedent for Dean liking junk food; Ackles will just have to deal.” “Sam likes technology; give him a new cell phone every other ep. Note: Do not give in to Padalecki’s complaints that he likes the one he used in Season 1, Episode 14, it’s already outdated.”) There was so much depth here, demonstrated by a thorough knowledge of how the boys are with each other, that I was certain that someone, several someones perhaps, had for some reason, stepped up their game. Or maybe it’s just that the Continuity Guy spoke up loudly enough and insistently enough to be heard.

This is instantly apparent in the scene in the motel room, which shows a closeup of Dean’s sleeping face (which fangirls like and which should be done, seriously, more often), has Dean sleeping on his back (which he does), and on the bed nearest the door (which he also does). Sam is up early (which he does) and in the bathroom on his latest and greatest cell phone (which he also does). The motel room is tawdry and messy (which it should be), and the scene is set. Not for the usual “hey, bro, where’s my coffee?” but instead the delightful evidence that all is not well. Dean awakens and tries to spy on who Sam is talking to; and Sam, in his turn, dissembles about what he was really doing. I particularly enjoyed the repartee: Dean: “Where were you?” Sam: “In the can.” Dean: “Yeah?” Sam, looking at Dean askance: “Yeah. You want me to draw you a map?” This conversation is about so much more than it is on the surface, it demonstrates what the brothers are not sharing, and how the brothers are Not Getting Along. (Also of note was the image of Sam that Dean saw, through a reflection of Sam, rather than him seeing the actual Sam. There’s mirror metaphors abounding here.)

Along comes the plot with people dying who I couldn’t care less about (I’m a heartless fan that way), and I began to notice a trend in the way this ep was filmed. Maybe it’s just me, but I noticed, both in the motel scene and the interrogation scene, as well as many others, that there were an awful lot of closeups of hands and skin. Tight, intimate shots that showed skin texture and tone, eyelashes, lip curves, delicate skin beneath eyes, the coarseness and dark dapples of beardgrowth, and even down to the pore, where skin takes on its own personality, both the beautiful, sweet silkiness as well as the rough irregularities, blemishes and whatnot.

And then there were hands, holding phones or glasses of whiskey, normal hands with ragged cuticles, normal, real people, day-to-day hands. So much of a person can be seen in their hands and their skin; such closeups seemed to offer a glimpse into an area of privacy, and, with regards to the title of this ep, offered another definition, because sex and violence, although aggressive, can also be very intimate. (Does Show do this on purpose? Or are these just happy accidents? I just never know for sure.)

The boys head down to the hospital to check things out and do some research. There we are introduced to the first of two Original Characters, the hot doctor chick.  The hot doctor chick takes an instant liking to Sam, and who could blame her? She’s giving him the eye and mentally unbuttoning her blouse, and when Dean walks in, she gives him as much attention as she would an old block of cheese. As the boys walk out of her office, Dean accuses Sam of c-blocking him, which I have a problem with in two ways. First, that Sam didn’t (and doesn’t) set out to be more attractive than his brother, but to some women, he just is. And second, why couldn’t Show have Dean just say it, instead of being coy? I mean, the boys can say bitch and damn and hell but not cock? Just say it! “You cock-blocked me!” There. I said it. Sheesh.

After dithering a bit in the street, the boys determine that they need to go to the strip club, which makes Dean happier than I’ve seen him in a long time. Instead of skulking there on his own, he’s got a reason to be there, with scantily-clad women gyrating and acres of skin. Although, since Dean’s there on official business, I don’t know if it’s as much fun for him as it normally would be; I’m thinking that he rather enjoys the illicit nature of sneaking around behind Sam’s back to go to these sorts of places. It sort of spoils the fun when you have permission. (At the beginning of this scene, there is a beautiful shot of the Impala, black and sexy, and I couldn’t help but notice that as Dean walks around to the driver’s side door, he strokes the curve of metal with a loving hand. Somehow, the whole of this little throwaway bit comes across as car porn; but then I’m a big fan of that car.)

Another woman bites it via brutal beating with a fire poker (arise, arise!), and then we get an image of Dean alone in the motel room. For a second, I wonder where Sam is, but Dean is sitting so still, and is so angry that you can hear his hard breathing, I figure it’s a good idea that Sam’s not there, just right then. Dean swipes Sam’s phone and pokes around to find out who his brother last talked to. (Lots of closeups of Dean’s hands here; Ackles has very nice, real, workingman’s hands, in keeping with how Dean’s would be.) He finds out that it was that Skank Ruby (duh) and his fury increases. And lo, Sam walks in and the brothers have a Conversation.

What’s interesting here is the way that they talk without talking. They’re talking about the case, but Dean’s trying to call Sam on his illicit phone calls, and Sam’s simply not picking up the bait. I love how this illustrates so many things about them, how living in each other’s pockets can sometimes create a need for emotional distance, which the brothers have solved by building walls, and still more walls. These walls cannot be scaled by mere words. Words, in fact, reinforce the wall rather than tear it down. This is some wonderful dialog here, which allows the brothers to continue dancing around the real problem, more sophisticated by its restraint.

Enter Bobby. The boys are stymied by the case and call their research assistant. I’ll admit I’m not a big Bobby fan. I kind of was for a while, and then, as the character became more integrated into the story line and began taking time away from the boys, I became less so. I became even more less so when, for some reason, especially during the last season, this perfectly good character became a caricature of himself. It was as if the writers of Show determined that there were some catchy little phrases that Bobby would say, and Show began to seemingly depend on these to demonstrate the attributes of Bobby’s character. So, for example, Bobby would say, “ya ijits” about a billionty times during an ep to demonstrate his rough affection for the boys, and while it might have been cute or effective the first time, after the third time, it became insipid. Plus, there was the whole problem with Bobby doing all the research all the time, instead of developing the characters of Sam and Dean by having them struggle through figuring out how to save people and hunt things on their own.

It got to be very boring, watching Bobby become Superman, so when I saw the actor’s name in the credits, I rather moaned to myself; and I asked myself, why isn’t he dead yet? This has naught to do with the actor, let me be clear about that. It seems to me that Mr. Beaver understands the psychology of who Bobby is supposed to be, what he represents in the boys’ lives. I just think he’s been given some pretty lame lines of late, especially this season, so I was quite pleased to find him acting more like Bobby this time around. Bobby has a couple of scenes, and in all of them, he’s gruff, no-nonsense, suffers no fools gladly, has other stuff to do, is really rather busy to be babysitting a couple of “ijits,” in short, he’s 100% Bobby.

The boys head back to the hospital, where Dean is once again treated like a block of old cheese (which must be totally new for our boy), and we are introduced to the second Original Character. This is the dweeby Nick, an FBI agent, who starts by whining about how they’re in his territory, being completely unassuming, and green behind the ears. Sam flips him a card to call their superior, which turns out to be Bobby, in his kitchen, with a bank of phones, each one hooked up to a certain number, the FBI, Federal Marshals, and so on.

I thought that was rather a clever way of dealing with a plot hole that I wondered about for some time, and that is, what happens when someone wants to confirm Sam and Dean’s IDs? Why, they call Bobby, of course, with the number that Sam gives them. Which still doesn’t answer the problem for what happens when someone calls the FBI with the phone number from the Internet that they themselves looked up. Still, Bobby with a bank of phone lines in his kitchen just cracks me up. I even bought him being in the apron that said “Kiss the cook,” because while normally I would have found this a misguided attempt to insert humor into the ep, it did not. Instead, we have Bobby, frying something up, sucking back a beer, and when the phone rings, he’s damn busy, thank you very much. You can almost see him rolling his eyes and saying, “Oh for the LOVE of PETE!”

My first time watching this scene between the boys and the FBI agent, I noticed the closeups and reaction shots exchanged between Dean and dweeby Nick, and I’ll admit I didn’t think anything of it. But then there was the bit where Sam puts his (large, manly) hand on Dean’s shoulder, and then points at dweeby Nick, as if warning him away, which I did notice and did think of, but couldn’t figure out what it meant. And then, when the interaction between the boys and dweeby Nick is over, Sam, with his hand to the back of Dean’s neck, escorts his brother away. While the boys were dithering (always nice), I sat there wondering why Show had done this. Of course, by the end of the ep, I had figured out why (or at least why I think why), that Show was introducing the idea of if not ownership, but territory. People never react so strongly as when they do when someone threatens to take away something they thought they no longer wanted. Since Sam and Dean have been at odds for a while, this scene was a very clever way to set it up for the competition that would follow. But later. And wait for it, I promise you it’s good.

In spite of Sam’s physical signals, the hot doctor chick hooks up with Sam, and Dean goes off with dweeby Nick. And while a split like that would normally leave me feeling ratty and out of sorts, it was fun following where this division led. About Sam and the hot doctor, this scene set it up so nicely, reinforcing the idea that she was the Siren that the boys are after. It’s not just the fact that she wants Sam instead of Dean (though this was a new twist), but the intensity with which she pursues him, so of course the bad guy must be her.

During this scene, Sam, with his shirt sleeves rolled up, is already halfway to being seduced; when she brings out the whiskey (there are closeups of hands tipping toasts), I realized that we were about two seconds away from some Very Hot Hotness. Never mind the fact that doctors normally don’t drink while on duty, I enjoyed watching Sam being seduced. Like this. By a real, live, living, breathing, sassy, smart, dark-haired brunette, who, surprisingly, isn’t destroyed by the Cock of Doom at the end of the third reel. The hot doctor chick whispers into Sam’s ear that there are parts of him she’s been thinking about all day, and who can blame her. She tells him it’s his mouth; yeah, she’s got very good taste. Sam’s bedroom eyes are smoky and come-hither, even in the brightly lit office. Off come shirts, and Sam’s back (and Padalecki’s) is so very fine, so hard and muscely, like it’s carved out of marble, I just wanted to freeze the frame for a while and admire. Not to mention the dark locks of Samhair curling behind his ears and down his neck. Those are the parts I would have been thinking about. (Of note, Sam likes the rough stuff; I’m surprised nothing was broken during their amorous tussle.)

And then there’s dweeby Nick and Dean, who have not only matching ties (Sam and Dean’s ties do not match), but who also share a love for the Impala and classic rock and roll. My opinion of dweeby Nick rose a few notches; Dean needs a friend, and this guy seemed to be the right guy. They go to the strip club together, toss back a few shots, oogle the objectified women, and play the Rock and Roll Quiz Game, which, as you know, is the best masculine intimacy builder there is. There is much laughing and male bonding, a little bit of work on the gig when dweeby Nick shows Dean the hyacinths that point to the hot doctor chick being the siren, and the pleasure of seeing those uber-sexy eye crinkles of Dean’s (and Ackles) when he laughs like he’s really enjoying himself. What a great scene this was, because it laid down the most perfect red herring ever. I didn’t see it coming, some people say they did, but I didn’t.

Then the ep gets dark, and it’s not just that the Lighting Guys dimmed the lights, no. Sam arrives at the motel some time after his interlude with the hot doctor chick, and calls Dean on his cell. Only to get slammed because Dean feels that the situation is out of control, and Sam, sleeping around, isn’t helping the gig. There’s a lovely comment about how Sam usually sleeps with monsters (Dean actually mentioned Madison!), but since when does Dean proscribe the getting of a little shimmy, shimmy while on a hunt? This was an interesting flip, which echoed the earlier one, because not only is Dean not getting the hot chick, he’s peeved because Sammy is. And then he cuts Sam off.

Sam’s fury is unexpected and interesting. Of course, it is another red herring to make us think that the hot doctor chick is the bad guy, again, very subtly done by Show. But also, Sam doesn’t usually have an explosive temper like this, but here, as he throws his latest and greatest phone, he does, pointing to yet another flip, where the boys are becoming more like each other than themselves. And, additionally, Sam comes across as pissed that someone else has the attention of his Dean; love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation. (Thank you, Kahlil Gibran!)

Now as to Dean hooking up with dweeby Nick. I was a tad shocked to see Dean slipping into the passenger seat of dweeby Nick’s car, especially in light of their mutual love for the Impala, and really especially in light of Dean’s seeming preference to master any situation on his own terms, from his own home base, namely the Impala. But I went with it because by this point, I realized Show was doing something quite clever, and up to this point, there had been no missteps. The two men dither for a bit about the gig, and share some booze, and a second before Dean gives Nick the flask to drink from, I had a sudden though that this was a very intimate scene, the two of them cozy and out of the rain. That Dean was getting along awfully well with this guy, and that not only was there an association between Nick and flowers (he was the one who brought them to Dean as evidence), the hot doctor chick was suddenly seeming a very obvious choice for the bad guy. And then it occurred to me: this is the Siren. I had honest to god hairs standing up on the back of my neck at the implications of this, and that Show had actually, ACTUALLY stepped out on a ledge and made the everything that Dean needed and could not resist a man. I didn’t think Show had the guts, to be frank. But it did.

As the Siren starts talking and explaining to Dean (as the oxytocins the Siren has delivered enter Dean’s bloodstream), how he will be what Dean needs, he will now be Dean’s Sam, my mind went in a very interesting direction indeed. What the Siren said can be taken at face value, that to lure Dean in, the Siren used the trap of all those things Dean has been missing in Sam: the brotherly love, the admiration, the devotion, even the hero-worship. But it was the way he said it, all smooth and seductive, added to the fact that for every single other one of his victims, the Siren used sex as a lure, and well, there was no stopping my brain. I’ve always thought Dean swung both ways, that to him, any love is good love, and he takes what he can get, so I wasn’t shocked by the overtones (and undertones) of a homoerotic nature, and in fact, I liked them. (I firmly believe that between the time this particular scene ends and Sam shows up at the motel that sex happened.)

I loved the ease with which Dean fell under this guy’s spell, because it seemed to say so very much about how much Dean has been missing the brotherly love and devotion that he feels Sam no longer gives him. My favorite moment of this scene (and in fact the whole ep), was that second, that brief eye flicker of Dean’s as he succumbs. This is a guy who is at odds with a lot of what most of us consider to be normal that he probably even fights sleep, like a five year old who insists that he is not tired. And yet, given the opportunity, and even given that the other victims seemed to struggle a little against the Siren’s spell, Dean goes willingly. Which just proves to me how empty and alone he is. It was such good stuff, that I was completely unprepared for what happened next.

I do not think it was a mistake that the motel the boys are staying at is called The Lion’s Pride, because, in the next scene, as Sam marches in to the darkened room, I thought it appropriate that he seemed to be charging a lion in its own den. And, oh, the fight scene that follows. Dean grabs Sam from behind, and the Siren taunts Sam, bespells him (with phallic spitting from under its tongue), and then sets the boys to fight against each other for his everlasting love. That’s what the Siren feeds on, you see, the devotion of its victims, however short lived. As to what True Fans feed off of? It’s scenes like this. And, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever loved a bad guy this much since Meg the Demon; going after the brothers like this makes the gig personal, and thusly, more fun.

The fight scene (so long waited for) pays off, and has to be seen to be believed. There’s cutting and blood, there’s punching and tossing, there’s slamming against the door, and Dean with an axe in his hand and that look on his face. The one that says, I’m going to kill you now, no time for prayers. Show needs more hotty hot scenes like this one, especially ones where Dean is able to befell Sam, who outranks him in both muscle and height. But before any of this begins, there are words. You remember, those words that build walls? Here the words tear and slash and maim; they are painful words, but that doesn’t make them any less true, and they give meaning and consequence to the violence that follows. Dean tells Sam that the Sam he knew is gone; Sam responds by confirming this, that he is the faster, stronger brother, and that Dean is a whiner. This is the Cain and Abel scene I have long thought was approaching; here we see, that for all the love between these two brothers, there is hate and resentment and old wounds that have never healed. THIS, this scene, this is why I watch Show.

Dean raises the fire axe, and the look on Sam’s face is priceless, young and open and scared, reminiscent of the young Sam of Season, and just then, Bobby arrives to save the day. The logistics of him coming all the way from South Dakota to a motel in Iowa, arriving at JUST the right place, at JUST the right time, make my head spin. Bobby is magic, and that’s all there is to that. I resented Bobby at that moment, but I did like how he went about it. He shows up, stabs Dean with the brass knife, throws it at the Siren (“Like this, you knuckleheads!” he seems to say), tips his hat, and that’s it. Then, in the last scene, he’s providing the beverage service, and Dean says, “Soda” Bobby says, curtly, “You boys are driving, ain’t ya?”  That’s totally Bobby, and very much in keeping with how I see this character. And then he leaves the boys alone to wallow in their idiocy. Thanks, Bobby, that’s exactly right.

Second favorite scene? It’s the one at the end. Sam asks, “Are we good?” And Dean says, “Yeah, we’re good,” shrugs, and walks around the front of the Impala. You see his leather-clad back, the set of those shoulders as he tips back his soda, and those beautiful bowed legs, and it’s a brilliant character moment. For regardless what bad mo jo happens between him and Sam, his love for his brother, his travelling companion and the sometimes bane of his existence, is constant. That’s not to say that there won’t be more Hard Words exchanged between them, and indeed, I hope there will be. Just like I hope (and pray) that there will be more eps like this one. Eps that prove that Show understands these complicated characters, eps that show that Show is unafraid, eps that prove once and for all that Show not only sets high standards but also break rules, and can push its normal boundaries hard enough for me to feel like I’d been in the midst of a sonic boom. My ears are still ringing from this one.

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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