Supernatural: Changing Channels

Having Fun That Is Funny
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review – Season 5, Episode 8
“Changing Channels”

I will start off by saying that I believe the whole “Trickster is really the Archangel Gabriel” thing was retconned, because there was no indication in “Tall Tales” (the first ep where he appeared) that the Trickster was anything other than the Trickster. As for “Mystery Spot” (one of the few bright, er, spots of Season 3), the Trickster seemed to be taking an interest in the boys, yes, but there was nothing overly angelic there, either.

It wasn’t till now, when Show realized they could pretty much do anything they wanted and get away with it (after all, what’s a fan to do but complain, but since when has complaining gotten anyone anywhere? Well, except for the demise of the Roadhouse, praise be), they went ahead and re-utilized the terrific talent of Richard Speight Jr., and figured they could make him a Trickster and an Archangel (“New Shimmer! It’s a desert topping AND a floor wax!”).

It reminded me of how Show retconned the whole Bobby thing, because when we first met Bobby at the end of Season 1, while he was someone Dean knew, Sam seemed not to know him at all. And yet later, Bobby turns into Uncle Bobby, and old and trusted family friend (though he seldom seems to speak to Sam at all). Retcon. Yet, you can hardly go wrong with Speight’s silverbright eyes and the leashed intensity, though. Because seriously, I love watching Speight do his thing; he looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth and then WHAM, he hits you upside the head with his delivery. So it’s not that I object to the rectonning, necessarily, I just wanted it in there for the record.

The plot starts off with Sam and Dean posing (yet again) as FBI agents. They follow up on a strange story from Wellington, Ohio, where a wife reports that her husband got eaten by a bear. The boys instantly recognize that normal bears can’t do what this bear did, so they go and check it out. They finally get Mrs. Randolph, who is the wife of the dead guy, to confess that it wasn’t a bear after all. Here’s where it gets funny. She describes to them a creature that sounds like and that she finally admits looks like The Incredible Hulk. At this point I was saying it right along with Dean, “Banner or Norton?” And the wife goes, “Oh no, those movies were terrible…the TV Hulk.” Even as Dean is saying, “You mean, Lou Ferrigno?” I started laughing at this point and I didn’t even see it coming; the delivery was perfect.

Sam and Dean quickly and adroitly figure out that the Trickster is behind the man’s death, and there’s this beautiful little indoor dither, where Sam and Dean discuss their options. I have a fondness for dithers, as you know, but I particularly thought it was interesting that Sam appears to be going back on his promise not to kill the Trickster. Naturally, if his plan to ally with the enemy (and where have we heard that before?) doesn’t work, he’s up for it. In the meantime, there’s a lovely visage of Sam slowly taking off his jacket, and Dean sharpening stakes, and the boys listening to the police scanner amidst the artistic flapping of white curtains. It’s a strange little scene but a nice one that harkens back to the old days.

The main part of this episode is devoted to the Trickster messing with the boys, which is always a treat. This time around, he puts them smack dab in the middle of various TV shows (presented as real life, with no cameras or directors, etc.), and the only way to get out alive at the other end is to play along and figure out what the rules are. The TV shows are the kind that audiences are familiar with: the inane sitcom, the sexy hospital drama, the slightly predictable but still enjoyable procedure cop show (CSI), a spin-off of Knight Rider, and oddly enough, a Japanese game show. Yeah, I think that’s all of them. And I’d say the members of Show’s team obviously watch a LOT of TV because they got all of the best details and made a hilarious romp of it, all the better to hide the serious message at the end, my dear.

The most hilarious of these to me is the sitcom, which while it wasn’t as over the top funny as the Japanese game show, still exactly captured the uncomfortable, static nature of a sitcom. You know, that feeling you get when you watch while one of the characters has to stand there and wait for the laugh track to end, and it all feels so fake and contrived, and you suddenly wonder why you’re wasting your life watching it? (Well except for The Big Bang Theory, which is truly funny.)

So this sitcom Sam and Dean are on, which is called Supernatural (ironically), has the boys saving people and hunting things sure enough, but the ghosts popping out of closets and the flashing of flashlights in the dark is done for laughs. Plus the motels they stay in aren’t all that skanky, but instead are bright and shiny abodes in places where the palm trees grow and rents are low and nobody ever goes to hell. Ever.

It’s a dream life surely for Sam and Dean, from the outside, but of course the boys are uncomfortable and their movements are jerky and each one of them has made a fist of his hand as all that tension comes down through their bodies. And this because the boys are not only out of their element, they are confused and confounded and bewildered. Which is kind of fun to watch, but what is more fun to watch is Sam and Dean attempt to step into the shoes of the fakey-fake characters on most sitcoms, who pose for laughs and stand around waiting for their turn to say snappy things that nobody ever says in real life.

Dean plays the naughty roommate who instead of researching their next job, spent the previous evening “researching” a hot, nubile young lady in his room. He’s all “gosh” and “gee,” and “son of a bitch,” squirming in embarrassment, trying to figure out what he should say next and wondering when it will be over. (Apparently, Dean’s not watched enough sitcoms to know that no matter what you say, the laugh track will always be there.) And all the while, Sam looks on in disparagement, with his arms akimbo and his mouth screwed into a scowl; he’s the straight man here, holding Dean to all those rules that Dean will break, but only when it’s funny.

Ackles particularly takes the cake with his subtle small movements and his face that can make pretty much any expression in two seconds flat. He’s definitely a close-up actor, and should have the camera always Right There, for obvious reasons, of course, but also so the camera can catch all the small details. (P.S. The little before and after credits of the sitcom with the bike riding and the football throwing et al, along with the silly, catchy theme song, were perfect! Three’s Company anyone?)

Next, the boys land in a medical show about a hospital in Seattle. The boys are beautiful in their doctory coats, the white of which looks great against their skins. Plus the coats bring out the glints in their big green eyes, and, in particular, the dark mink tones of Sam’s hair. Incidentally Dean is rather a fan of this particular hospital show, with its sexy interns and its hip background music. This makes it even funnier because Dean’s the only one who knows the plot and the story and who is who and how it should all go down; he’s practically reciting dialog along with the characters. He also represents every fan’s dream to land smack dab in the middle of the action and meet their favorite character.

Dean is almost thrilled to be there, because in Dean’s case, he’s a particular fan of Dr. Sexy M.D., and it shows in his face and his demeanor in the hilarious meet and greet in the hallway. The second he sees Dr. Sexy, his lovely mouth falls open and his eyes go wide and as Dr. Sexy approaches them, he simply does not know what to say. Well, Dean, welcome to my world! (Plus his adoration of Dr. Sexy is yet more proof that Dean swings both ways; he takes it where he can get it.)

There’s a small inside joke when the boys see a patient who is actually a ghost that some people can see him and some people can’t. This, of course, is taken from the Dead Denny situation on Grey’s Anatomy, and wouldn’t it have been truly fun if Show had managed to get Jeffrey Dean Morgan to help with the joke? Ah, well. He’s probably too big for Show now, not to mention being too busy.

Soon, from his vast, fannish knowledge of the show, Dean is able to figure out the Dr. Sexy is really the Trickster, and ha, ha, he gets shot in the back for his pains by a patient whose wife is dying and who he refused to operate on. This really has captured the tone of these types of shows, the unrealistic and unprofessional behavior of the people in the hospital, and the over-the-top drama, which, okay, people like, and good for them. (Then again, I rather enjoy the History Channel, which some people would say is a big yawn fest.)

This time, it’s Sam to the rescue. But instead of fixing the bullet in Dean’s back in the usual doctory way, Sam uses (and get this): a pen knife, a sewing needle, dental floss, and a fifth of whiskey. I thought that was a nice touch because, of course, this is the way Sam’s been sewing Dean up For Years. (Sam’s also adorable making those faces he makes and wearing that little blue hat, because it brings out the green of his eyes.)

Then there’s the Japanese game show, which had my friend inn Alaska laughing so hard she practically couldn’t breathe. I thought it was pretty funny too, and though I don’t have much appreciation for the excessive and outrageous tone of Japanese game shows, I still got the joke because seeing Dean and Sam smack in the middle of one was pretty funny.

In addition to the fun, zany, exuberant visuals, there’s a tiny little problem and that is that the questions on this game show are asked in Japanese. Neither boy speaks it, that we know of, and thus the hilarity begins. Naturally, Sam is the butt of the joke of the “nutcracker,” because if you can’t answer the question, you get hit in the balls with a large, rubber hammer. (And I love’s Sam’s “Dean, help me!” expression just before the rubber ball hits! Plus there’s been a lot of grabbings of and references to Sam’s groin this season, which delightfully picks up the trope that was dropped after “Hell House” in Season 1.)

Of note here is Padalecki’s broad comedic style. When the nutcracker hits him where it hurts, he throws his whole body into the joke. His shoulders twist up and his hands clutch at his groin and he almost goes down to the floor. The slow-mo replay was outrageous, but it was Padalecki’s facial expressions and gusty, out-of-breath-in-extreme-pain-here-people shudders that really made it.

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating here. This guy knows how and when to not hold back. He’s just plain missed his calling, and every single time I see him do a scene like this, with funny, slapstick hilarity, I’m reminded of the Carol Burnett Show, of which I have extreme fond memories of watching with my family all in a circle around the TV and laughing so hard I nearly peed myself. And that memory is a rare gift indeed, so thanks for that.

Underneath all the hilarity, though, are the questions that are asked. Sam’s question is, “What is the name of the demon that you chose over your own brother?” Naturally the answer is “Ruby,” and the telling part is not that the question is in Japanese. Rather, it’s the question itself, which represents the underlying problem between Sam and Dean, and the basis for their current discontent and lack of real dithering.

Yeah, Sam broke the last seal and brought on the Apocalypse, but Dean broke the first seal and opened the door to the Apocalypse being brought on. Put those both together and they null each other out. The big issue for me has always been what did Sam really do that was so unforgivable by Dean? Why, choose a demon over his own brother, of course. Theoretically, I think you could say that the question being asked in Japanese represents Sam’s inability not just to understand the problem, but also fail to internalize it and really empathize with how he hurt his brother. And then to ask forgiveness for that, instead of for the whole Apocalypse thing.

Dean’s question is also telling. The game show host asks: “Would your mother and father still be alive if your brother had never been born?” When Sam figures out that they need to play the roles the Trickster wants them to play, Dean is able to go along with the game (on all levels) and answer the question in Japanese and avoid the nutcracker whapping him a good one. (Which would have been really funny, if you ask me, though it was almost as funny to see Dean’s expression as he anticipates what might happen to him.)

Whether the answer is yes or no here, I think the underlying issue is Dean’s resentment of Sam, resentment he might not even know he has. Not just for Sam being born and usurping his position as the most beloved only child. And not for being the instigator of their current petty crappy lives; at six months, Sam can hardly be blamed for the deal his mother made ten years before. And not for The Dad making the choices he did. And not for any of it, really, not even for being the reason Dean went to hell. Or is it? Even the most sacrificial impulses in Dean must reflect some anger over it; halo or no halo, he’s only human. I thought it rather clever of Show to ask such telling questions of both boys.

Another fun piece is the genital herpes commercial in which Sam gets to deliver the very uncomfortable lines about having herpes and “being good” and “being safe” during an outbreak when, really, it’s far too late for any kind of safety measures. It’s more along the lines of closing the barn door after all the horses have escaped. I mean, condom anyone?

No, not in these kinds of commercials, which seem to play day and night as the various companies ply their snake oil wares and try to convince you that you need a pill to stop your restless leg syndrome, when anyone with a lick of sense could tell you that all you need to do is up your intake of magnesium. And poor Sam, you can see him struggling with the personal nature of the words, and naturally, in the background, horsing around, is Dean, making fun of Sam. Like he should do, like all older brothers should do. (And frankly, I could watch Sam and Dean play basketball ALL day.)

Next up, the boys land in a procedural cop show. I would have to say that this one was my favorite. It wasn’t slapstick like the game show, but instead the funny came with being familiar with this kind of TV trope. I watch a lot of cop shows and felt on very familiar ground here and found myself laughing out loud. The detectives are wearing fancy sunglasses (at night yet), and one of the forensic guys uses a lollypop (or other affectation) to point at the wound on the dead body, and then there’s the slow, dramatic delivery of lines as inane as “What do you think?” and “Could you give us a minute?”

Best of all was the “money” shot, where Sam and Dean whip off their sunglasses in slow-mo, with the sensual seduction oozing from every pore. By now they’ve gotten the hang of things (and might have watched enough cop shows to feel comfortable with their surroundings), plus they are really sexy in slow-motion. Not to each other, of course, but to me.

Padalecki has Sam do a take-off on David Caruso’s portrayal of Lieutenant Horatio Caine from CSI: Miami, an over-the-top character who delivers every single line with the same dry, dusky, flat delivery that is supposed impart a sense of drama. But when he’s constantly saying “I’d like a peanut butter sandwich” in the same low-voiced and serious tone as he says “No one kills prostitutes in my town” it kind of starts to lose its sting; but still that’s part of the fun of his character. Padalecki captures this exactly, down to the twisted, cocked position of the head and the sqirmy eyesquinch that Caine has when he’s looking at dead bodies. Which he does a lot. So I’ll tell you and I’ll keep telling you: Padalecki has untapped reserves of comedy including imitation, slapstick, and fall down-stand up humor. Hello, hello? Is anyone listening?

Next up, the boys are on Knight Rider, and it couldn’t be anything else, so there’s no need to be coy. Dean is Michael Knight, the derring-do cop who rides around in Sam, who is Kitt the Car. Depending on how you look at it, Sam being inside Dean’s beloved Impala is either really cool (he embodies the other thing Dean most loves in the world) or really not fun since it means we get even less Sam on the screen. I know, cry moar, right?

It’s a funny and cute bit, because while Dean is in the Impala’s trunk getting the oil to set up the trap for the Trickster, Sam’s voiceovers make comments about Dean messing around with his butt, and yeah, there’re several inside jokes there. And I love watching Dean drive around in the Impala on any given day, so props there.

But overall, this particular segment reminded me of a fan-made video called “Channel Hopping.” In said video, Dean is channel surfing through a variety of TV shows, all of which show Sam and Dean as the stars. This hilarity (for it is truly inspired) has a clip that shows the Impala starring as Kitt the Car. This vid came out last year and has been seen and admired by many a fan; it isn’t the first time that Show has echoed stories or ideas that fans had worked with long ere we saw them on Thursday night.

Finally the boys trap and confront the Trickster, who, as I mentioned before, turns out to be the Archangel Gabriel, aka “Gabe.” Gabe has a lot to say about how foolish the boys are and how he’s mad at his family, and usually this kind of blah-blah-blah static conversation is boring. And with any other actor it might have been. But get Speight in there, delivering his lines the way he does, and give someone that Ackles and Padalecki can really play against and it becomes this riveting reveal where we learn why Gabe became the Trickster, and what he wants Sam and Dean to do about it.

My favorite part is where Gabe explains that he was tired of the family fights, and he just wants it to be over, and that’s why he left heaven. He says that it’s not the apocalypse for him, rather it’s a Sunday dinner that he’s tired of attending. Most cutting of all, he says it’s about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other, which hits home in all kind of ways. Turns out that, duh, Dean represents the Archangel Mike and that Sam represents the Archangel Lucky and that they were always destined to perform this holy celebrity death match, where one brother has to kill the other. It’s not a startling reveal, but it’s solidly done.

Sam doesn’t get to say much, but as they let Gabe go, Dean tartly explains that you can’t run away from family, you have to deal with them, but the irony is not lost because, you know, pot, kettle, anyone? Not that Dean’s been running away from Sam all this time, but they both have been pretty much avoiding the issue and delaying the inevitable and that is: talking it out. The Japanese game show, for all its frivolity and retina burning orange colors, had it right on the money: family is family, and if you don’t have that, you might as well get hit in the balls with a rubber hammer. (My other favorite part is where Gabe gets rained on; I like it when characters get wet, even though, yet again, you can tell that the water is coming down in a circle around the character so as not to melt off his makeup.)

This episode was a treat because both Padalecki and Ackles have comedic timing to beat the band and I’ll say this for the record: they don’t want to do horror movies any more, no sir. After Show is over, they should each hit the circuit doing comedy, and I’d say movies rather than TV. And that’s not because I want to see them on the big screen, either, nope. And I don’t know when the last time I saw the boys do a bit of a dither over the roof of the Impala, so that was nice. On top of which, this ep had a nice well-rounded story, with the darkness of the Trickster, excuse me, Gabe, interspersed through the funny, instead of being tacked on at the last three minutes. Show should do more like this, definitely.

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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