422: 'Lucifer Rising'
Wr: Eric Kripke
Dr: Eric Kripke
Synopsis: As the Apocalypse approaches, Castiel and Zachariah inform Dean that his moment of glory draws nigh. Sam, disagreeing, goes with Ruby to take on Lilith.
Review: Oh Supernatural, look how far you've come. Four years ago, you were barely a blip on the televisual landscape, a seemingly throwaway monster-of-the-week show with a crush on The X Files, whose remit was to scare a generation of media-savvy youngsters into cowering behind their X-boxes. It succeeded, sure, and that's how we managed to get to this point, but no one really expected Eric Kripke's magnum opus to become the most sharply written, edge-of-your-seat viewing experience on American television. Supernatural? The one about the brothers who fight off demons? You're havin' a larff, ain't ya? Well, perhaps if we'd paid a little more attention, the surprise might have been less substantial. The writing staff have been laying the groundwork for an extravagant mythology since the brutal murder of the boys' mother in the opening scene of the pilot and now, several years and many riveting episodes later, they've finally managed to realise their vision. This fourth season has been an epic roller-coaster ride from the moment Dean's hand came clawing out of the dirt in 'Lazarus Rising', upping the stakes to breaking point while putting its characters through the proverbial emotional ringer, challenging Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles to produce some of their best work to date. With every harrowing twist and turn, things have gotten bigger and more intense and now, at the behemoth of a season finale, we reach the apex of this most gargantuan of narratives: the battle to prevent the apocalypse, the conflict between Heaven and Hell.
Except cleverly, that's not quite how it turns out. 'Lucifer Rising', a pleasingly cyclical reference back to the title of the year's opening hour, subverts all expectations by tossing its own rulebook out of the window, delivering a number of considerably unexpected curveballs that take the story in intriguing new directions. First, there's the revelation that Lillith is the final seal; everyone was so caught up in the idea that one of either Sam or Dean would be the last one, seemingly validated by the idea of a showdown between the two, that we overlooked this most obvious of possibilities. Or maybe that was just me. Perhaps even more shocking, however, is the revelation that 'senior management', to quote Zachariah, wants the apocalypse to happen. Heaven is going to sit back and allow the devastation to ensue, while preparing itself for the battle that will follow. Dean's destiny is not to prevent Armageddon, but to slay Lucifer - no small feat indeed, but it's contingent on mankind being laid to waste by demonkind. Unsurprisingly, Dean doesn't take to this lightly. His scenes of agonising rebellion in the 'green room' are excellently realised, loaded with believable revulsion at the magnitude of his benefactors' betrayal. Ackles is superb here, perfectly pitching every line of Kripke's sparkling dialogue, from his pleas to Castiel to my personal favourite, "you can take your peace and shove it up your lilly white ass". You go, girlfriend.
Predictably, Kurt Fuller's turn as Zachariah is wonderful too, turning at the drop of a hat from whimsical flippancy - his remarks about Gilligan's Island - to menacing castigation. When he reveals that "God has left the building", the moment is so crushing, so hopeless, that it sends shivers down the spine. And then there's Misha Collins, proving once again, a million times over, why he's become such a legitimate fan favourite, evoking the character's inner struggle between his obedience and his conscience with merely the slightest of looks, really selling the humanity (ironically) of the character. It's a genuine 'fist in the air' moment when he finally rejects Zach and helps Dean to rescue Sam. And encouragingly, it seems that we haven't seen the last of these players. Kripke's spectacular over-arching narrative doesn't end with 'Lucifer Rising', oh no... and how could it? This is the end-game, the final battle; you don't get any bigger than Armageddon, there's no higher power to overcome than the armies of Heaven and Hell. In a fantastic move, the episode ends as Lucifer is actually released from Hell; next to Lost's pause at the most crucial moment of its finale, this is the most maddening cliffhanger of the season, cutting us off at the exact moment that things really look set to go absolutely mental. Still, for that very reason, it's the perfect end to the year, keeping an entire nation on tenterhooks for the next four months. And what a final season this looks set to be, eh? Things will probably never be the same now that the ultimate 'big bad' is roaming the Earth, so it looks like, even more so than year four, this will be a very mythology-led, season-spanning story, with very few, if any, stops to investigate the occasional paranormal curiosity of the week. Kripke's assertion that there will only be five seasons of Supernatural makes perfect sense now; after they've done the apocalypse, where else could they really go?
There are many other outstanding elements within 'Lucifer Rising' too. Kripke's dual writing and directing responsibilities really give the hour a sense of cohesion. In complete control of his vehicle, the show's creator is truly able to realise his vision. There are some wonderfully subtle touches here: the juxtaposition of the serenity of the 'green room', with its quietly delivered diction and lack of underscore, and Sam's intense torture of the baby-munching demon is decidedly disturbing, while his counterpointing of Sam's lament to Ruby with Dean's conversation with Bobby, while visually antithetical, is united thematically by the repeated use of a close-up fade-in shot, from out of focus, on Sam and Dean's respective faces. Sam's moral dilemma, his repugnance at being faced with the human host behind the demon, is also notably understated, never veering too far into cliché or hitting the viewer over the head with the metaphor, while Bobby's clearly cathartic confrontation of Dean, in which he releases all the frustration and anger that he's built up towards the Winchesters over the years, is a massively refreshing change for his character and a definite highlight of the episode.
'Lucifer Rising' is the most fitting end to a near perfect season. Eric Kripke's script is simultaneously invigorating, touching, shocking and frustrating, a veritable marathon for the emotions that leaves the viewer battered and bruised but begging incessantly for more. It ties together many of the season's loose narrative strands but leaves enough open for the final run, promising, in its nail-bitingly immense cliffhanger, one of the best conclusions to a series that we're ever likely to see. Year five can't come soon enough. 9.5
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