We’re back Supernatural fans! Hellatus was all the name promised would be, but unlike every Winchester who ends up in the pit, the show is anything but damaged. In fact, it was back and hopped up on funny juice — that, in a twist, was spiked with heartbreak.
If I may share a thought (thinking = an unfortunate side effect of having no new TV): the hiatus actually gave me a lot of time to reflect on this season of Supernatural and re-watch episodes. And I’ve determined that I’ve really enjoyed the emotional payoff of this season.
Mythologically speaking, it’s been a trippy ride. (Dean’s a dad! Sam’s back from hell! Wait, twist: no soul! Jerk Grandpas! Holy war! Holy cow!) But this season’s emotional lessons, like those about bonds (valuing them, nurturing them, and knowing when to sever them) has, at least for me, been a nice journey to follow as the rest of the world erupted in chaos around Dean, Sam, Bobby and Cas. This episode, I feel, was big culmination of that aspect of this season. Let me explain as I knock out this recap:
First, the case o’ the week. An apparently clumsy man got his head chopped off in a garage door after some Mr. Magoo-types of events, only this guy’s sight is just fine and he got what was coming to him. Dark.
We picked up with the boys at Bobby’s house, where the elder hunter was boozin’ it up more than usual, which, considering his already thirsty nature, really validated Dean’s concerns that Bobby would poop his liver out if they just stood around as he drowned his sorrows (brought on by Rufus’ death, which we saw last episode). They even tried to lure him away from the house with the case, which Sam and Dean believed at first was a case of a family curse (because the man who died by garage decapitation turned out to be the third in his family to die in a short period of time). Bobby didn’t take the case bait. All it did was piss him off enough for him to invite them to leave his home.
That’s when we saw it. The Impala. Only…it wasn’t an Impala. It was…some thing. A “car,” I guess (Mustang to be specific), with a Hot Wheels racing strip down the middle. How Dean stomached the ride, I’ll never know. Sure, some might call is a classic. But it was simply not right.
Also not right? Ellen was back. Yeah, Ellen. The one who was blown up into a million pieces and eaten by hellhounds. She waltzed in with groceries in hand (vegetables, no less) after coming back from a week-long hunt with Jo (!!) and a bite to match that bark we missed so much. She mostly used her skill to nag Bobby about smelling like a bar. If this all seems very wife-like, it’s because it was. She. Was. His. Wife.
NEXT: Oh, Ellen.