Folie Ã Deux â€“ Sam and Dean in the Cuckooâ€™s Nest
Usually I donâ€™t write reviews. This time, however, I couldnâ€™t help myself. This was an episode worthy of the early Supernatural stories, the ones that made us love the show â€“ a monster, a creepy location, a formidable team of charming hunters to bring the bad thing down. Thatâ€™s what this episode would have been in season one or even two.
But weâ€™ve come a long way since then â€“ and now we are given a classic only on the surface. Underneath there are many layers. And landmines.
â€˜Thatâ€™s good, Sam, you keep fatting up that fire in your belly. All that penned up rage. Iâ€™m gonna need it.â€™
(Lucifer in the flashback)
The scenario is well-known: the Winchesters check into Screw Loose Hotel to help Martin, an old friend and hunter-buddy of Johnâ€™s who had saved their father in another lifetime. They did that before â€“ in Folsom Prison Blues (season two) they arranged being arrested and imprisoned to help out another one of dadâ€™s friends. Dean had insisted on helping Deacon, because they owed him, despite Samâ€™s objections.
This time the roles are reversed â€“ Sam is the driving force behind this operation, and Dean keeps reminding him of how crazy this idea is. Hence the nuthouse. What, havenâ€™t you had enough already of paying your fatherâ€™s debts, guys? But they keep doing it.
Okay, itâ€™s quite easy to get into a psychiatric facility, and they donâ€™t need to make up any complex stories. All it takes is the truth.
That scene in the shrinkâ€™s office alone is hilarious â€“ Dean sitting there with a blank face, trying to play the narcissistic Mr.Cool, all arrogant wise guyâ€¦. and Sam being deadly serious about the angel who wears a trench coatâ€¦ Dean informing the doc about Samâ€™s demon blood problem, and Sam sitting there all guilt laden and embarrassed. How the guys were able to deliver that scene with a straight face I do not know.
Iâ€™ve often wondered how I would react if someone came to me, telling me the exact same storyâ€¦ Oh, my. Given the complexity of their account, to a psychologistâ€™s ears this is a structured system of paranoid concepts, shared by two people, what we call â€˜folie Ã deuxâ€™. If they cannot look at their ideas from a distance, if they are not able to differentiate between reality and imagination, any psychologically trained person would think of a form of psychosis. Or a severe major depression involving psychotic symptoms, which is not exactly rare. And, oh well, thereâ€™s the odd personality disorder, of course.
Enter the nurse from hell (okay, what did she do to Sam in the â€˜Silkwood showerâ€™? He man can hardly walkâ€¦). We will learn later that she, in fact, is the wraith Martin has been looking for, but for the time being sheâ€™s just annoying.
Dean tries in vain to talk Sam out of this, but his brother needs to keep busy. Dean is again in shutting-emotions-off â€“ mode and tries to deny it, but Sam knows his brother. The elder is back to his old modus operandi: heâ€™s trying to cover the pain over the loss of Ellen and Jo (and his inability to save them) â€“ that still must be excruciating â€“ with coolness and denial.
Taking into account how broken the man is on the inside (feel free to remind yourselves of decades of torture,â€¦ breaking seal number one,â€¦ incapacity of stopping Sam, â€¦ Bobby in a wheelchair, â€¦oh, yes, Michael prefers his meat suit, â€¦ taking a delorian to the future and witnessing Sam/Lucifer breaking his future-selfâ€™s neck, â€¦ the loss of Ellen and Jo â€“ do I need to go on?), there is no other logical way for him to react. If he wants to get through this somehow, this is the way, at least for the time being.
If Dean let go of his armour (holding it barely together with spit), he probably would run howling to the nuthouse any time soon and join poor Martinâ€¦ Building a wall is a conduct he can rely on. He needs that kind of security.
Born from the irony that lives in the neighbourhood of Deanâ€™s behaviour, comes some hilarious dialogue: D: â€˜are they (the patients) reliable?â€™ , Martin: â€˜Why wouldnâ€™t they be?â€™ â€“ Dean looks around at some dancing kook and goes â€˜ah, I donâ€™t knowâ€™. Straight face it is.
They are not allowed to share a group, as they are co-dependent (and no therapist in his right mind would put siblings into the same group therapy session unless it is explicitly family therapy). Sam meets Ted, a deeply disturbed, frightened and adorable patient (didnâ€™t you just want to give him a hug and tell him that heâ€™s not crazy?) while Dean, the â€˜paranoid schizophrenic with narcissistic personality disorder and religious psychosisâ€™, finds out that his shrink is actually quite attractive.
And my professional personaâ€™s heart leapt â€“ finally shrinks in a tv-show or movie that do not embarrass the trade. Thank you Andrew Dabb and Daniel Loflin for not making her and the doc in the beginning (didnâ€™t catch his name) ridiculous Iâ€™m-a-shrink-and-I-know-what-Iâ€™m-doing â€“ nutjobs!
Dr. Cartwright accepts Dean with that whole I-couldnâ€™t-give-a-damn attitude and asks the right questions â€“ does he sleep? Drink? Any long-term relationships? What about dad? (and we are not given Deanâ€™s answer to thatâ€¦). This is what you need to do if you want to get through to a patient, no matter how crazy he actually is. Take whatever he has to say seriously, as for him â€“ it is real. Furthermore he will feel if you treat him condescendingly.
Iâ€™m happy about her portrayal â€“ that is, until we later learn that she is merely an illusion of Deanâ€™s guilt ridden mind, brought to the surface by the wraithâ€™s influence. She is a manifestation of his fear and his guilt, a projective canvas on which he is able to externalize his issues. When he realizes that heâ€™s â€˜seeing thingsâ€™ that external crutch vanishes and Dean is confronted with the whole weight on his shoulders.
We have all wondered how in the world he got up
But before that moment of truth the brothers team up and search the hospital. They rush to the rescue of Ted, but they are too late. Dean urges Sam to hurry up â€“ â€˜Back off, Dean!â€™. Quite harsh, Sammy, out of the blueâ€¦ Oh, dear, as if we hadnâ€™t known it: Sam Winchester is a landmine. Step on it and it will rip your head off.
His passionate blow at Dean is useless, though: Ted is suspended from the ceiling, and something wanted it to look like suicide. To find out more, the brothers invade the morgue, Sam gets to do his autopsy thing again (probably not the worst idea with someone so angry â€“ allow him to cut open some skulls, and heâ€™ll be fine). All they find is sucked-dry brain tissue and another embarrassing moment of crazy: â€˜Pudding!â€™, because â€˜crazy worksâ€™ (another Supernatural classic is born, and fans will be quoting this till kingdom come, oh, yes, Iâ€™m referring to that sweet, slimy stuff over which Dean let his pants down). Bless you, Jensen, this was hilarious. Youâ€™re not afraid at all to make an adorable, yet complete fool of yourself.
Finally, they think they get a clue â€“ the bad guy is the doc. Or, so it seems, because Dean is beginning to see things. The wraithâ€™s influence is growing on himâ€¦ They separate to check the hospitalâ€¦ which is insane enough. Be told from someone who often walks through hospital corridorsâ€¦ there is hardly anything creepier than psychiatry at night.
And they find him, or â€“ rather Sam does, and soon he will wish he hadnâ€™t, because so much of that penned up anger comes out like a punch, he attacks the doc so viciously and vigorously like â€˜a man possessedâ€™.
Jared delivers these scenes with tremendous intensity â€“ the rage-deformed face and the terror in it as he realizes his mistake. He almost killed an innocent. The consequence is a drugged Sam, booping his brotherâ€™s nose, telling him that he still loves him, because he is his brother. Ah, bliss, histrionicsâ€¦
Enjoy the happy drugs, Sam, for as long as their effect lasts, because any moment now the doc will tell you â€˜Monsters are the least of your problems. People can learn to live with delusions, but the anger I saw in you, the look in your eyes when you came after me, it was like you were barely even human.â€™
The wraith goes on playing mean tricks on the Winchesters â€“ Sam is tied to a bed again (I liked Bobbyâ€™s panic room better). And Dean, after finding out that his shrink was just an illusion, lingers on the brink of some serious nervous breakdown. As Sam bursts out (within his own delusion after his illusion-Dean hits the â€˜black spot on your soulâ€™ button), Dean sits at the table in the corner, shivering, hands trembling like a horrified childâ€™s, whispering inaudible words, a shadow of his usual self. Even as he rolls up his sleeves and comes to Sammyâ€™s rescue like in the good old days, he is terrified and actually believing heâ€™s going crazy.
Itâ€™s over fairly quickly then â€“ the brothers escape from the nuthouse, after killing the Wraith which was not exactly the most complicated of monsters. That, however, was not needed, as this episode was not about any monster. The wraith served merely as a catalyst to bring the still lingering issues of the Winchesters to the surface â€“ the guilt, the fear, the mistrust, the anger.
â€˜She was right. Most of the time I can hide it. But I am angryâ€¦ Iâ€™m mad at everything. I used to be mad at you and dad, then Lilith, now itâ€™s Lucifer, and I make excuses â€“ I blame Ruby or the demon blood, but itâ€™s not their fault. Itâ€™s not them. Itâ€™s me. Itâ€™s inside me. I am mad, all the time, and I donâ€™t know why.â€™
Dean doesnâ€™t want to hear this: â€˜Stop it. So what if you are?! What are you gonna do? Take a leave of absence? You just say Yes to Lucifer?â€™
â€˜No, of course not.â€™
â€˜Yes, exactly. Ant thatâ€™s exactly what youâ€™re gonna do. Youâ€™re gonna take al that crap and youâ€™re gonna bury it and forget about it. Because thatâ€™s how we keep going, Thatâ€™s how we donâ€™t end up like Martinâ€¦. Are you with me? (then, more desperate) Come on, man, are you with me?â€™
â€˜Iâ€™m with you.â€™
This is far from over.
The look on Samâ€™s face as he says those words is a blend of various reactions. Again Jared gives us one of those expressions that hint at so many emotions, yet leaves enough room for the viewersâ€™ interpretations. I think he believes what he says, of course he is at his brotherâ€™s side, but something tells me that he is terrified he might fall victim to all that rage.
Of course Sam is with Dean. He wants to believe it. But experience is a harsh teacher. He has encountered the sensation of utterly losing control before. â€˜Iâ€™m mad all the time, and I donâ€™t know whyâ€™ â€“ if he doesnâ€™t know why this is happening to him, he probably has no idea yet how to fight it. How do you stand up against a part of yourself so deeply rooted in your nature? Oh, Sammyâ€¦
In this small scene both, Jensen and Jared, show us in a nutshell what their characters are dealing with. In between their lines they speak pages of dialogue with their eyes alone, and I guess I havenâ€™t seen that done so movingly in a long time or on any other showâ€¦
I think this episode, and the scenes hinting at the issues the Winchesters still carry, are to be understood like one of many omens. I donâ€™t think the creators threw us that bone to chew on it to not bring it up again.
This might lead straight to Lucifer, in a way. If we consider that anger, aggression is â€“ initially â€“ nothing but mere energy, then it has to be channelled into a more constructive force. Perhaps thatâ€™s what Sam is going to learn. Hello powers? Iâ€™m hellishly curious to find out.