Trust Sera Gamble to take a plot premise that's been utilised on the show before and turn it into something resoundingly original and engaging.
9.5
"Superb"
Trust Sera Gamble to take a plot premise that's been utilised on the show before and turn it into something resoundingly original and engaging. Season four's superlative 'In the Beginning' sees Dean transported back in time to before he and Sam are born, thrown into the lives of his lovestruck parents and given the opportunity to change history so that his mother never succumbs to the brutality of the Yellow Eyed Demon. The song essentially remains the same here, natch, as a frighteningly militant Ana throws herself back to 1978 in an attempt to prevent Sam from ever being born and the brothers follow suit, struggling to resist the temptation to interject 'for the better' and put an end to what they perceive to be their miserable existence. In the hands of lesser writers, such similarities would render the episode frivolous and predictable. However, Gamble and co-writer Nancy Weiner know better and what results is a top notch marriage of dramatic ennui and mythological advancement.
The key to its success is all in the pacing. From the moment that Ana interrupts Dean's somewhat risque dream, it's heads down, pedal to the metal, no turning back. The narrative commences its trajectory, with the viewer believing that Ana has returned for honourable reasons and that her mission is of the utmost importance. There is an immediate sense of urgency established which permeates the subsequent sequences as we move directly into the resolution of this trope, bypassing any extraneous incident or moments of character introspection. The story just gets on with it, throwing twists and turns at us in glorious succession. Very quickly, we discover that Ana isn't trying to help the brothers at all and that her time banged up in Heaven has changed her. Cue a spectacular fight sequence, some wonderful two-handers between she and Castiel and a breakneck narrative that captivates just as much as it mesmerises. In any other show, this would form the meat of the episode, but not here. Instead, this is merely the preface to the main event as the plot shifts a few gears after only the first act, becoming something entirely different in the later stages.
It's a somewhat brave move to transform your story in this manner and to do it in such a way that effectively decreases the momentum. As Sam and Dean are (re)introduced to their young parents, the motifs change dramatically; the characters inevitably find themselves questioning what they can do, how they can prevent the seemingly inevitable from arising. While the show has touched on this before, it remains a relevant and realistic concept and is distinctly well-handled. Gamble addresses the issue and resolves it quickly, demonstrating to both parties that nothing can change. Essentially, they would be no better than Ana if Mary took their advice, divorcing John and running off into the sunset. It's heartbreaking to see them realise it, which is a testament to the strength of Padalecki and Ackles's respective acting talents, but it is a necessary epiphany and one that ties neatly into the episode's thematic web. Credit should also be given to the actors portraying Mary and John, who deliver whirlwind performances with what they're given, making it seem like they've been part of the show's framework since the very beginning, not simply since last season. John is particularly good when he discovers the truth about the demon world and even exhibits shades of Jeffrey Dean Morgan at times, most notably as he's insisting that he can draw the symbol on the wall.
Of course, in amongst all of this, there's the small matter of the debut of the one, the only, motherfracking angelic Michael to contend with. After easing the pace of the plot in the episode's mid-section, Gamble ramps it up again with this knockout of a sequence, mercilessly slaughtering Ana to begin and then unpacking a whackload of mythology on Dean's ass in a spectacularly shot and written scene. Remarkably for something so loaded with development, it comes across as rather methodical, feeling less like an information dump and more like a tempered, natural progression. Michael's likening of his own situation to Sam and Dean's and his rationale for occupying the Winchester's meat suit is very effective and adds further shades of grey to this already refreshingly murky paradigm. There's a notable sense of foreboding about the whole thing too, which is perhaps due to the eerily composed manner in which Matt Cohen plays the part.
A pretty darn spectacular episode then and one that recalls Supernatural's more recent penchant for playing with its own format, taking chances with its narrative and making brave and unconventional decisions regarding the structure of its stories. At once packed with mythology and resoundingly introspective, 'The Song Remains the Same' acts as a blueprint for how this show should operate, providing a thrilling roller coaster of engaging plot and insightful cornucopia of character examination at the same time. Predictably, Sera Gamble stands victorious again. Unquestionably brilliant.moreless