Supernatural: When the Levee Breaks

The Art of Dark Circles and Samhair
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review – Season 4, Episode 21
“When the Levee Breaks”

This ep is full of questions, unanswerable and totally diverting. Why did the Soap Angel let Sam go, especially after he got Dean to sign up for the angels’ big project? And what is that Skank Ruby up to? My friend from Alaska and I have a wager going as to whether or not that Skank Ruby is acting on behalf of Lucifer. Especially in light of the Sunday school story she told, about the First Demon and all, it seems to me that Sam is the one being groomed for this, and so, thusly, my friend in Alaska is totally going to loose this wager. 

But most importantly, this ep has to do with the question of what to do with Sam. Most notably, what to do about Sam and his little demon blood drinking habit. At the end of last week’s ep, Dean’s solution was to lock little brother in Bobby’s panic room, an iron-paneled pit of a room, furnished complete with all the mod cons: demon symbols on the floor, the spinning fan overhead, a stained cot, and a metal bucket, which has all kinds of uses. In this room Dean hopes to break Sam of his addiction, and concernedly handsome, he paces above while Sam writhes in torment below.

And oh, what a torment. The scene is beautifully filmed in the throbbing light as it passes through the fan, with touches of red lantern and glowy sun, smudged with shadows that lay inky and dark in the rounded corners of the panic room. The jewel here is Sam himself, all sweaty and miserable, alternately calling for Dean and talking to ghosts of Winchester past, figments of his fevered imagination. And all the while, he’s dressed in a provocative snap-button shirt, with his Samhair lank and messy along his neck, his eyes artfully marked by the dark circles beneath them. True suffering could not be any more beautiful than it is here.

Sam gets to talk to an imagined Alistair, who sets Sam up pronto for a little torture session. I like Alistair just fine; he seems the kind of villain who will stay villany, and who won’t suddenly turn into a defanged and useless kind of villain who would be no use to anybody. Here, he starts slicing into Sam, just to be mean, and just because he can. There is screaming and blood and Alistair, cool as a cucumber. 

In this scene, I was struck by two things. One, that Sam breaks awfully fast, pleading and babbling. In the back of his mind he must be aware that Dean lasted 30 years, and that he, Sam, is weak in comparison. And two, that when that Skank Ruby was tortured on just this same device? She was nekked. Now given that this is Sam’s delusion and he wasn’t there when that Skank Ruby was tortured, I could see that he would clothe himself in his own mind. He did have bare feet, though, so it obviously occurred to him that, yeah, clothes would be coming off. And hey, the leather straps were already placed in judicious locations, so why the hell not? Oh, Show, how you continue to deny me.

Then Sam gets to talk to his wee self, who paces and pouts about how Sam let him down in the search for normal, and what the hell happened? Wee Sam is awfully cute, as usual, but the sad part is when Sam in his own defense says, “We were never going to be normal, we were never going to get away.” Which rather points to the fact that maybe all this time Sam has been living in denial, that as hard as he strived for normal, in the back of his mind he knew it was futile. There’s nothing worse than facing your own failings, or feeling defeated before you’ve begun. I love Sam’s talk with Wee Sam the best, because it feels like here he can be the most honest with himself, which is the hardest thing of all. 

While upstairs, Bobby and Dean talk about the apocalypse and Bobby postulates that maybe Sam is supposed to stop Lilith. Dean of course protests using Sam as a warhead. 

It’s during this talk that I was reminded of the task that The Dad left with Dean. You remember the one, it went something like, “Watch for Sam going darkside, and if you can’t save him, you have to kill him.” Here, Dean might be remembering that, because he makes the decision to kill Sam before he sees him turn into a monster. Although, I sometimes wonder if The Dad interpreted the signs wrong. He’s been wrong before, so what if Sam is supposed to turn darkside and avert the apocalypse? (See? More questions.)

Meanwhile, downstairs, Sam is sweating and suffering, which is just the way I like him. He gets a visit from The Mom. She’s draped in virginal white with the ubiquitous blood stain in front and she’s very momlike in her attention to Sam’s suffering. This time Sam is ready, saying, “Let’s hear it,” and bracing himself for the worst. He thinks she’s disappointed in him and that he’s a pisspoor excuse for a son, and it’s awful to think that this is of course not what she thinks, but what he thinks of himself. 

All the while, he’s sweating and hot and flushed as the demon blood works its way out of his system. The Mom says horrible things that are couched in the language of love (that Dean is weak, that Dean is wrong, etc.), and Sam drinks up the kisses and pets that she gives him, the only mother’s touch he’s ever received. It’s a really good scene, but of course, all I wanted to do was give Sam a cool drink of water, wipe the sweat and grime from his beautiful face, and give him a nice hot bath. But, then, I’m easily distracted.

Crucial to the conversation is Sam’s concern that the power that’s in him might be stronger than him, that he won’t be able to master the darkness. It’s been a reoccurring theme all along for Show, the idea that absolute power can corrupt, and that self-doubt marks the path of a hero. Continuously, Dean has been placed in the position of the hero, the altruistic defender of the weak, full of self doubt and fearful about going into the Garden. I still think that’s true, but here, we’re shown (and not for the first time) that Sam as well is going through the transition of becoming a hero, so I’d say both brothers are taking that particular path. And who says a story can only have one hero? Not me. 

Next up is the Soap Angel in the junkyard being an angelic dick. Dean is ragged and pissed off and very effective that way, except that the Soap Angel gives him only two choices. One is that Sam, yes, could avert the apocalypse, a job from which he would not return unscathed. Two is that Dean could sign up to save the world, but he’s got to be perfectly obedient, and basically resign access to free will until the angels of the lord would deign to call upon him. Since Sam is to be protected at all times, naturally Dean takes the second option.

I love how Dean thinks the Soap Angel is a dick these days. And I love how pissed off he is when he gives the oath because Dean doesn’t, never has, and never will, bend his knee easily. But naturally, the Soap Angel invokes The Dad, and compares Dean’s obedience to him to Dean’s obedience to God. Which rather paints The Dad in a very powerful light, The Dad who once again has a role but no lines. And again, Show is presenting the solution to the current conundrum as a single choice, either Sam OR Dean. All the characters seem to have tunnel vision, except for Dean, so I feel pretty comfortable postulating that sooner or later, he’s going to figure out that the world needs them BOTH to avert the apocalypse.

Things get worse for Sam in his chamber of iron. There’s nasty marks on his face and screaming and fear; really, it was nice to see Show take it to such a degree, because real suffering makes the story more interesting. (For me, not for Sam.)  Upstairs, more drama, where Bobby and Dean dither about Sam. When Sam falls silent, they rush to his aid only to find him being flung about the room like so much scrap paper. Because it’s Thursday, they must tackle him to the ground (and he’s so strong the two of them are barely able to do this), and then, of course, tie him up. Oh, yes, we like it like that. (The bed is, of course, barely long enough to accommodate him.)

Sam’s next hallucination is of Dean, who throws all of Sam’s problems and troubles in his face without an ounce of concern, it seems. This was wonderfully filmed, with snippets of Sam and Dean, and then of Sam talking to himself while his voice echoes off the walls. The thing that kills Sam is that he thinks that Dean thinks he’s a monster, that’s the worst of it for him. To Sam, his brother’s love is the one thing that he cannot bear to loose, and the look on his face that he thinks he might have just kills me. Meanwhile, there’s more dithering upstairs, where Dean insists that Sam should die human, even as Bobby postulates that maybe Sam is the one to save the world. Don’t they get it? The brothers work in tandem. Sheesh.

Then the Soap Angel lets Sam go, and for reasons known only to him. It gives Sam the chance to escape, which he does, fast and quiet on those long legs of his. Once in the junkyard, he is caught out by Bobby, who threatens to shoot him, only he can’t. Sam knows this, and here his power is tamped by regret. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, you see, but, well, he’s got to. His desperation is reflected in his face, dirty and drawn, with those circles beneath his eyes like permanent ink stains. What is it about Sam’s suffering that is so compelling to see? I like to think it’s because Show finally got to THIS point, where the truth is out, and all the subsequent crap is honing itself nice and sharp and dark and nasty. Go Show!

Sam holes up in a ritzy hotel room somewhere to wait for that Skank Ruby. She’s not long in coming, which is good because Sam looks like he’s about to shake himself to pieces. The fun here is watching Sam’s expression as the demon makes excuses for being unavailable, because finally he seems to realize that he’s been relying on a demon, for Pete’s sake, and the inherent danger in doing that. Also fun is the little conversation about how well Dean knows Sam, “He knows my habits, my aliases, everything,” which further demonstrates how close the brothers are. (More artfully dark circles here, and sweat, and Samhair, all askew around his ears.) There is slicing and demon blood and Sam’s mouth (guh), and no resolution whatsoever. Afterwards, Sam and that Skank Ruby loll in languorous post-coital bliss. Mostly dressed, please note, which is another missed opportunity for nekked nudity, so points off there. (I am nothing if not single minded.)

Sam has made himself impossible to find, but Dean, he knows Sam well enough to undo all the careful and purposefully random changes Sam made in his itinerary. Dean knows that Sam would do what would seem least obvious, so he is easily able to discern the trail marked by a 1999 Honda Civic and a 2005 Escalade with custom rims. It’s almost like child’s play for him to find Sam’s room and naturally, he charges in to off that Skank Ruby. Best part? His expression of stonebound resolution to get rid of her. The only thing stopping him is Sam, who sends the demon off to protect her.

Finally, the brothers are alone, and then at last it comes, the Cain and Abel battle that many fans have long been anticipating. I’m sure this isn’t the only battle that we’ll see, but it certainly was a doozy. In it, each brother assumes that it is he that will make the final sacrifice to save the world. And not just the world, but the other brother. Each thinks they are the stronger, more capable one, as well. This much seems obvious. Dean is willing to battle Lilith, but only if that Skank Ruby isn’t coming; Sam won’t go without her. The brothers are at an impasse.

But underneath that, like an invisible trail, is another issue altogether, one more basic and instinctual. Sam says that it’s always Dean at the wheel, that Sam always does what Dean says to do because he trusts Dean because Dean is his brother. He wants Dean to trust him in return. Watching Sam, he seemed to be operating from the position of having already lost this argument, because you can’t change your role within a family. Dean doesn’t say it, but I could see him thinking it: You’re my little brother, and I am the big brother; this is not your job, it’s mine. This fight seems based on sibling status more than anything else, but it’s so subtle, I don’t think Dean realizes it.

Instead he focuses on Sam’s becoming a monster, and the horrible part here is that he says it out loud. As he waits for this to sink into Sam’s brain, a tear spills from Dean’s eye like a glittering diamond. And then Sam punches him. I think I have been waiting my whole life for that punch. Usually it’s Dean who punches Sam because he can’t put words to his emotions, he uses his fist. Time after time, Sam has stood and taken it, and now? The tables are turned. The battle ensues, and more important than which brother got more blows in is the fact that Dean loses. Even his threat to Sam can’t keep Sam from leaving, a threat that echoes the same threat The Dad made to Sam oh so many years ago: “If you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back.” With a threat like that, what else is Sam supposed to do but leave? So he does. 

So there we are, the blood secret is out, the brothers are at odds, Lilith is on the rampage, and we still don’t know what side of the fence that Skank Ruby is on. Overall, I thought it was a good episode, slow and careful and underplayed, with just the right amount of anguish and angst. Besides the fact that I’d shallowly like more nekked nudity, I have two other observations to make.

First, I have decided that Ackles has the most perfect profile I have ever seen. I know he’s beautiful, you know he’s beautiful, hell, he probably even knows he’s beautiful, and why shouldn’t he, with everyone telling him so. But his profile is pure art, and beautifully proportioned as if it had been sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Why haven’t I said something about this before? Well, it’s not because I’ve never noticed before now, it was just that during this ep, amidst the roil of grief and woe, there it was, this beautiful thing. 

And second, that this was a Padalecki jewel of an episode. Throughout he’s a chameleon, an orphan of the storm one minute, and the next, he’s a brazen, driven, demon blood addicted Sam that Dean has been watching for all this time. He suffers with screams and with silence, his trust completely broken, and in his eyes, the last dying gleam of hope that Dean will change his mind. I was so glad to see another episode that focused on Sam, that showed us Sam trying to deal with the darkness within, and Padalecki rose to the occasion to pull out all the stops and make Sam tragic and beautiful and haunted, even sympathetic, all at the same time. Padalecki looks handsome and manly even when caked in sweat and grime and, plus he’s constantly haloed by deliciously tousled Samhair (not to mention the tragic dark circles under his eyes), so this is an episode that I’ll have on replay for quite some time. 

 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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