In 2005, "Supernatural" debuted with a simple pitch: hot guys in a hotter car, cruising around America and fighting demons along the way. The show knew what simple pleasures it offered, and it wielded them wisely. The writing was full of humor, containing somewhat more wit and emotion than the concept demanded. As the series matured, it gradually evolved in mythology and tone, becoming one of the more reliable sources on TV for crackling action and fun, as well as a few genuine frights.
This past Thursday, "Supernatural" returned to The CW for its fifth season (purportedly its last) to find the boys facing their greatest challenge yet -- the honest-to-God Apocalypse (pun intended).
Brothers Sam and Dean Winchester (the serviceable Jared Padalecki and would-be breakout star Jensen Ackles) have been trained as "hunters," traveling from town to town to take down demons, vampires, ghosts and all manner of creatures that go bump in the night. After losing their father, avenging their mother's murder and overcoming death once or twice, all Hell finally breaks loose.
After a season's worth of effort, they've failed to stop Lucifer's destined escape from Hell -- in fact, they may have caused it. Now, a world-ending war is pending and untold casualty is imminent. Only Dean, Sam and the renegade angel Castiel (Misha Collins) have the courage to stand up to Lucifer and the angels of Heaven, both of which would have humanity burn.
It was a bold gamble to bring angels and biblical mythology into a show that had previously gone no further than the thrill of having the Winchesters shoot ghosts with sawed-off shotguns. Until last season, the world of "Supernatural" had worked under the assumption that, while the monsters under the bed are real, God is merely a superstition. Heaven is not as simple as it appears to be, of course, and God has -- in the words of an angel -- "left the building." However, this episode seems to hint that a greater power is working on Castiel's side, against the other angels.
Castiel is a compellingly nuanced, unreadable character, played with a great deal of aplomb. The addition of Collins to the small roster of series regulars is undoubtedly a welcome one. Zachariah, Castiel's former boss, is played by veteran actor Kurt Fuller as frighteningly manipulative with obscured motivations. In the premiere, he breaks Sam's legs and removes his lungs while giving Dean stomach cancer, all as a negotiation tactic.
And now the show is attempting to tackle the Devil himself. But Lucifer's release doesn't result in rampant violence -- at least, not yet. In the premiere, Mark Pellegrino (formerly Jacob on "Lost") plays Nick, whose family has been senselessly murdered. Lucifer visits him, in the guise of his late wife, to convince Nick that's he's really just misunderstood; the fallen angel tenderly implores, "My only sin was loving God too much." By the end of the hour, Nick consents to being the vessel for Lucifer -- or, in the Winchester vernacular, his "meat suit." At the same time, Dean begrudgingly discovers that his own destiny is to be the vessel for the Michael, the archangel that last caused Lucifer to fall.
The show's dialogue continues to amuse. Dean calls the angels "asshats" and then refers to himself as an "angel condom." In reference to Castiel's apparent demise, one character memorably describes the explosion as being "like a water balloon full of chunky soup." The able cast plays fast and loose with the show's brash language, adding necessary humor to an otherwise grim and sometimes rote narrative.
"Sympathy for the Devil" was not as bombastic as last year's game-changing premiere or the tense season finale, but it's not hard to feel optimistic about the coming season based on the seeds planted here. Whether the Lucifer plot will turn cliché remains to be seen.
"Supernatural" isn't going to compete with critical darlings like "Mad Men" for the title of Best Show on TV, but as far as genre shows go, it's well thought out and generally well done. The adrenaline and the characters are addictive in the best way. They are, at the heart of it, simple pleasures -- and isn't that what TV is for?
