501: 'Sympathy for the Devil'
Wr: Eric Kripke
Dr: Robert Singer
Synopsis: Sam, Dean, and Bobby must deal with the aftermath of the Devil's escape from Hell, and receive startling news from the Prophet Chuck.
Review: So Lucifer has arisen and the apocalypse is nigh as the fifth season of the CW's superlative Supernatural begins. After having bowled over just about every critic under the sun with a truly monumental 2008/09 year, which saw the programme transform itself from occasionally insightful guilty pleasure to dark, twisted, mature, considered, absolute-must-see television, Eric Kripke is now faced with the unenviable task of maintaining the momentum, surpassing all of our lofty expectations and providing the mother of all pay-offs to the season-spanning narrative of the decade. The writing staff essentially spent year four laying the foundations for what is to come, moving the players into position for the 'final showdown', if you will, so they really have one hell of a lot to live up to. And on the evidence of 'Sympathy for the Devil', the series five premiere (neat pun, by the way), it seems a little like they may already be buckling under the pressure.
The episode is by no means a bad one. Kripke's script is a roller coaster ride of quick thrills, dramatic tension and fan-pleasing 'squee!'s that keeps you glued to the screen throughout, waiting for the next revelation. The interplay between Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki is absolutely spot on once again, demonstrating that no amount of time apart can negate the very palpable chemistry that exists between the two. Sam and Dean's two-handers, however brief, steal the show, and all parties do a highly impressive job of subtly delineating the undercurrent of unspoken tension that now permeates their relationship. While Dean's ultimate rebuttal of Sam comes as no surprise, it is a thoroughly logical result of the younger Winchester's actions and fits in perfectly with our perceptions of the characters. The scene is beautifully underplayed by both parties; there are no raised voices or aggressive tones, simply resignation and disappointment. Consequently, the emotional gravitas of the situation is greatly amplified, and one is left with the ambivalence of Dean's rightful moral indignance, weighed against the horror and remorse that Sam so evidently feels. It's a messy dilemma and one that the viewer experiences with just as much investment as the characters.
Kripke also demonstrates his masterful command of suspense by making the very bold, and wise, decision to slowly and methodically introduce Lucifer to his audience. While his name has been bandied about since the early hours of season three ('Sin City', to be precise), his actual identity has always remained a mystery; however, season four's concentration on the attempt to free him from Hell has positioned the character on such a lofty pedestal that a quick reveal would arguably fall rather flat. Instead of presenting us with an actor and asking us to buy into his representation, Kripke cautiously feels his way around the issue, using the concept of the 'human vessel' to lengthen the process of his incorporation. Such a move sells the character as a threat to the stability of the show's world to a far greater extent than if he were simply to pop out of Hell, say a few "hello"s and asphyxiate the nearest homo sapien. The process makes him all the more frightening, since he needs our permission to use one of us and, evidently, this requires the subtle use of persuasion. The individual that Lucifer has targeted is expertly characterised by Kripke as a fairly run-of-the-mill guy who has been struck by the most horrifying tragedy, which gives considerable credence to his ultimate decision to let the angel in. The viewer is able to understand his reasons, to feel his pain, to empathise with him, and this, in turn, makes the narrative strand's denouement all the more terrifying and tragic. Cleverly, this will impact upon our perception of Lucifer in the weeks to come, as the preface will make our emotional responses to the character highly ambiguous. Lost's Marc Pallegrino is predictably fantastic in the role too; his casting is a stroke of genius as the actor's considerable versatility and ability to maintain an air of underlying mystery will undoubtedly pay dividends in the future. And it's worth also giving a mention to Bellamy Young, who does a stellar job as Lucifer manifesting himself as Nick's deceased wife Sarah, delivering her lines with chilling calmness and serenity. This entire sequence of scenes is just wonderful, quietly and meticulously creating something deliciously unnerving.
Unfortunately, the decision to hold back on Lucifer's inauguration into society, to be narratalogically calculated rather than abrupt, seems to have had an adverse effect on the rest of the episode. In refusing (rightfully, this reviewer believes) to get straight down to brass tacks, Kripke essentially robs Sam and Dean of a plot with which to entertain themselves; the logical thing for them to do, in the wake of Lucifer's ascension, would be to smite the bastard. To have him searching for a vessel for an entire episode requires that the Winchester brothers be side-lined, or at least given some other form of distraction to deal with. However, rather than have them concentrate on one plot development, Kripke bogs them down in a veritable quagmire of swerves and revelations which simply aren't given the time and attention that they deserve. It feels rather like he suddenly realised that he had no story to tell, panicked and began throwing things at the narrative in the hope that they would stick. So, Sam and Dean are magically whisked onto a plane to escape the explosion caused by Lucifer's ascension, and then, within seconds, it's hurtling to the ground because of this. Cut to title card (nowhere near as good as season four's by the way, but then, it was never going to be, was it?) and once we come back, the brothers are in the Impala, practically unscathed. The jump is too great and the cut too intrusive, which damages the flow of the story. Then we have the illustrious Michael sword which is introduced and then brushed to one side within the space of a few scenes, as we learn that Dean himself is the object (or rather, Michael's vessel). This reveal should be absolutely huge as it has the potential to greatly impact upon the ongoing narrative, but its significance gets lost amongst the bravado and bluster of the character's interactions with Zachariah (all the insults and quips feel overwrought through the whole episode, grafted on rather than arising naturally from the plot) and later, Castiel's miraculous resurrection. Now sure, this clearly has implied significance that is ripe for explanation in a future episode (is God himself responsible?) but it really does feel like something of a deux et machina, however ironic that may be. Throw in Bobby's demonic possession, which feels far too hurried and is far too conveniently overcome, Meg's abrupt, practically throw-away return, a case of 'blink and you'll miss it' when it should be afforded significant fanfare, and the highly unnecessary 'fangeek' (really guys, does every representation of a 'fan' of a television show have to be this cumbersome, ludicrous and insulting?) and you've got an over-abundant recipe, trying too hard to please.
'Sympathy for the Devil' certainly has much going for it. Kripke's script deftly sets the scene for the season, introducing the much-lauded 'biggest of all bads' into the Supernaturalverse in a pleasingly methodical and terrifying fashion. Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles return to their roles with the greatest of ease and the episode's emotional drama between the two brothers is both moving and believable. The plot generally moves along at a satisfyingly brisk pace, maintaining the tense momentum generated by the concept of the apocalypse, but this also seems to work to its detriment. At times, it feels like there is simply too much going on, that there are too many revelations and developments being thrown at the viewer, and as such they threaten to lose their dramatic impact. Sequences like the re-introduction of Meg, the 'Michael sword' explanation and Castiel's resurrection feel fleeting when they should be shocking, and as a result they fall a little flat. Nevertheless, this remains an enjoyable instalment and one that demonstrates much promise for the future. 7.7
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