The first new “Supernatural” episode of 2010 is “Sam, Interrupted.”
We’re in Ketchum, Okla., at the Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital, and the subject in question is a mother whose son died in a fire. She doesn’t want to sleep, because a monster comes. The doctor, who has a very concerned face, says she’s schizophrenic and still dealing with her roommate’s suicide, but this is “Supernatural.”
“There is no such thing as monsters,” he says. Heh heh heh.
Later that night, in her darkened room, there’s a noise in the ceiling … you can guess the rest. Another inmate sees what happened, and the next morning, another mysterious suicide.
The boys are back … and it looks like they’re checking in, or at least Sam is. He tells the skeptical doctor the truth about why he’s there, and well, that’s good enough to get him labeled at least delusional. Dean also decides to rattle on about demon-hunting, and now it’s a two-fer (under the names Alex and Eddie Van Halen).
But first, both boys need a thorough going-over by a very efficient nurse, who does a mean snap with her latex gloves. Inspired by Dean, let’s call her Nurse Not-Ratched.
Now in hospital gear, the boys discuss the plan, which involves answering a call for help from inmate Martin, a former hunter, who apparently took a bad turn in Albuquerque. Sam wants Dean to talk about the recent, tragic deaths of Jo and Ellen, but Dean doesn’t want to dwell. Instead, they move on to talk to Martin, who’s all fanboy happy to see the lads.
Martin’s seriously off his game, so he’s sure he can’t deal with what’s caused five so-called suicides in the last four months, but he’s not sure if the responsible entity is “animal, vegetable or mineral.”
Dr. Concerned Face arrives, and it’s off to group therapy for Martin and Sam. But, owing to Dean’s “dangerously co-dependent” relationship with his brother — oh, man, Dr, CF doesn’t know the half of it, but props for twigging to that so fast — he has to go to a separate session.
In Sam and Martin’s group, there’s one eager beaver, Tim, who is also onto the monster, claiming to have seen the creature. Another eager beaver jumps in, claiming she saw it too, and it has lobster claws, like a monster on “The X-Files.” (Did a monster on “X” ever have lobster claws? Anyone?)
Meanwhile, hot Dr. Erica Cartwright comes over to meet her new patient, “Eddie,” a k a Dean, her “paranoid schizophrenic with narcissistic personality disorder and religious psychosis.” Dean does his Hannibal Lecter impression, which fails to impress, and he moves on to once again telling the truth about demon-hunting, while trying to work in a few questions.
Dr. Cartwright hits straight at Dean’s sleeping troubles and romantic inadequacies, then nails his daddy issues. Truth be told, our Dean’s not nuts, but the boy does have problems. Later on, Sam reports in, while Dean gets snogged in the hall by a random blond patient named Wendy. This place is full of surprises.
The boys head to Tim’s room to talk, only to find him totally freaking out. But when they open the door — with Dean grousing that Sam isn’t fast enough unlocking it, causing Sam to bark back — poor Tim is totally dead, hanging from a pipe with a bed-sheet rope.
The boys manage a quick postmortem examination of Tim, discovering a nasty deep hole in his head that goes all the way through. They decide to go all Ducky Mallard on his skullcap, and when the brain is examined, it’s been sucked dry.
They just manage to put Tim back together and stick him in the drawer when Nurse Not-Ratched arrives. Dean drops trou and yells “Pudding!” Hey, it’s a strategy.
It’s time for a convo with Martin, who recognizes the signs of a wraith — he’s drawn a stringy-haired dude who looks like a meth addict with filed-down teeth — which have a taste for brain juice. They don’t like silver, but on the downside, they can look like regular folks, unless they go past a mirror.
Out in the hall, during one of his heart-to-hearts with Dr. Cartwright — in which Dean seems genuinely relieved to be able to unburden himself, even if it’s to somebody who thinks he’s crazy — he sees Dr. CF go by. Thanks to a hallway mirror, Dean discovers that Dr. Concerned Face is actually Dr. Wraith Face.
The hunt is on, and Sam is the one who collides with Dr. WF, slashing him with a silver knife. He’s about to finish him off when Martin appears, stopping him just in time and pointing out that the knife cut to the doc’s arm is not burning. Ergo, he’s not a wraith.
Later, in his room, Sam is doped to the gills and loving it. Dean comes in, aware that they missed their mark but not sure why he saw what he did. In his tongue-loosened state, Sam speculates that maybe Dean really is just a little bit crazy after all, what with the hell thing, the torture, tragic deaths, etc. Dean is not in the mood.
Out in the hall, he’s having another cozy chat with Dr. Cartwright when the conversation takes a weird turn. and suddenly she’s all-knowing and bitchy, running down the list of Dean’s failures — past, present and future. And she calls him Dean.
Dean’s confused, but when an orderly points out that he’s holding an argument with empty air, Dean really starts to worry. Then when everyone in the hall looks like a wraith in the mirror, Dean crumples in a corner, terrified that he’s truly snapped.
Sam, now sobered up, asks to see Dr. CF to apologize, admitting that there are no such things as monsters. But the very perceptive doc points out that the anger inside Sam is truly monstrous, transforming him into something barely human, as if a man possessed.
Score two for the good doctor,
Sam gets a second chance — one more outburst and he goes to the place with bars on the windows — and heads for the day room. There, Dean lights into him, along with all the other patients. Sam starts swinging, but, as it turns out, at nothing. Dean is huddled quietly in a corner, watching Sam be dragged off.
When night falls, Dean heads for a confab with Martin. Working through his muddled brain, he reasons that while going bonkers isn’t an unlikely thing for either him or Sam, the fact that they went off at the same time probably means there’s something, er, supernatural at work. He figures the wraith shot them up with crazy — or transferred it, by touch or…saliva.
Then he realizes that both he and Sam went goo-goo after nympho Wendy planted sloppy ones on them in the hall. So, Dean and Martin shoot off to Wendy’s room, hear a scream and discover that she’s in the midst of committing suicide, thanks to helpful Nurse Not-Ratched, who keeps nasty spikes up her arm.
Dean gets a sliver-knife slash in — which burns this time — but Nurse gets away and starts complaining in the hallway about being attacked. Martin discovers that Wendy isn’t yet dead, and says he’ll stay while Dean goes after the wraith. Dean freezes, but when orderlies burst in and Martin body-blocks, he finds his feet.
Meanwhile, the wraith is slithering all over strapped-down Sam in solitary, threatening to ventilate his cranium and suck out all the crazy-making hormones and chemicals. But first, she tells Sam that his rage is his own, she only turned up the volume.
Dean bursts in, the battle ensues, and just before he gets a third eye in the middle of his forehead, he snaps off
the wraith’s spike, giving him the chance to then skewer her with the silver. Then, as soon as she’s dead, the world snaps back into focus.
Oops, there’s the alarm.
The boys manage to escape outside and reach the Impala. Dean, always the last man for introspection, just wants a drink. But Sam admits that the wraith was right, that he’s always been angry, at everything, and he doesn’t know why.
Dean just tell him to bury it, get past it and get back to business. Not looking comforted in the least, Sam agrees, and they roar off into the night,
Call me crazy, but I don’t think Sam’s anger is going to stay buried, or that Dean’s demons are going to take a holiday. Also, there seems precious little grieving on Dean’s part, and that can’t bode well. His heart may be pickled by bad beer and hardened by too many burgers, but he does have one.
And we still don’t know what happened in Albuquerque.