As Seen on TV is a new weekly series of blog posts I’ll be doing in response to reading/dissecting the pilot scripts of various television programs, both old and new, and then watching or re-watching the pilot episodes they spawned, whenever appropriate.

Warning: spoilers for episodes other than the pilot are very possible.

I read two scripts for Supernatural, both the earliest draft and a much later one. I wish now that I could find more early pilot drafts for other shows, but there don’t seem to be a lot out there. What shocked me about the earlier draft was how completely different the backstory and family mythology were at that point. I’d known that Eric Kripke, the creator of the show, had originally envisioned two journalists on the road fighting evil (as opposed to the eventual Sam and Dean characters), but I had no idea that the story had still evolved so much since he’d decided to go with a pair of brothers instead. If he’d run with this earlier script, the show would’ve been a lot different. I think it would’ve been interesting to see the dynamic between the two brothers unfold, especially as they learned the trade of hunting (in this version that whole world was hidden from them when they were younger), but I don’t think that show would’ve lasted as long as the one we know has. The Winchester brothers’ complicated family history and dark, conflicted childhoods are key to the success of their characters.

The teaser of the later script opens up with a prologue depicting an incident that happened over twenty years ago. This is a noteworthy decision because while nearly all TV protagonists have intense baggage that informs their personalities and their decisions, many shows choose to start with the action here in the present and let those secrets come forth as the season (or even the future seasons) progresses. Why give us this scene up front and leave no space for mystery?  I have a few theories. First of all, this is, on the surface, a horror series. That means serving up the cheap thrills right off the bat—and what better way to do that than with the most horrific image there is. Mom on the ceiling and bursting into flames? That image of Samantha Smith is iconic for the show. If Sam and Dean had only referred to it in passing, we wouldn’t be able to picture it nearly as well. And that brings up another point: Sam and Dean were youngsters when the incident happened. Sam doesn’t remember it; Dean hardly got a good look, thanks to his Dad.  Even if they could recall the details, would they really want to talk about it in detail?  They couldn’t. It’s the unspoken family tragedy, the one they try to erase by filling their lives with purpose: killing monsters and saving the innocent people those monsters prey upon. (Or, in the case of Sam, going to Stanford law school.) Let’s consider the character of John, who in this script is still named Jack. He’s missing in the present and never shows up in the episode aside from this prologue. For those of us who know the show, it’ll be a while before he does. The prologue serves to introduce his character, as well attempt to explain to us the extremities of what happened to him, what drove him to devote his life to hunting the YED and raising his young sons in that lifestyle. I just mentioned the YED. Does the pilot script mention the YED? No. One of the reasons the prologue works is because it doesn’t give up too much up front. There are still mysteries abound. Thus far, we still don’t know what killed Mom. We don’t even know Mom’s backstory and why the YED chooses them in the first place, which is hinted at in other flashbacks and childhood memories in season two and finally fleshed out in seasons four and five.

Now, the script I read has Jack (John) carrying Sam as he runs out the house with Dean when the house starts to go up in flames. As fans of the show know, this is not exactly what ultimately happened in the episode: John tells young Dean to take his baby brother to safety as he himself stays in the room in desperation for one last second. This small change may not seem like much at the time, but it does wonders in giving us a snapshot of how their family dynamic will play out for years to come. The message is clear: Dean was raised to protect Sammy while their father’s attention was elsewhere. Subsequent episodes in subsequent seasons only work to push this idea home.

Speaking of home, the prologue also serves to establish the town and building they once called home. This is important because Supernatural is a show that asks us to re-examine the concept of home. As the series continues, the boys don’t have a place to call their own. They live in cheap motels and spend night and day traveling deserted roads in their father’s classic muscle car, going from point A to point B and then onto point C, never looking back. Other shows are deeply concerned with setting and rooted to a central location, whether real (Fringe in Boston; Charmed in San Francisco; Roswell in…well, Roswell) or imagined (Buffy in Sunnydale, Gilmore Girls in Stars Hollow, Smallville in…well, Smallville). Even Alias, a show where the central characters globetrot as frequently as the Winchesters brothers, still features a home base. In Supernatural, the Impala must serve as both setting and character. We get our first glimpse of the show’s third star in the prologue as well.

I don’t think Supernatural has the strongest pilot episode. In fact, I don’t think it became a great show until season two, when the driving force became less about the monster-of-the-week and more about this world’s unique mythology. I watched the pilot when it first aired, and as a horror fan appreciated the subject matter. But I didn’t watch season one regularly.  I admired it as more of a show with standalone episodes—like its predecessors The Twilight Zone or The Outer Limits. It wasn’t until the season one finale that I became really interested in what more the show had to offer.

Nevertheless, what happens in the pilot sets up the rest of the season nicely, as pilot episodes need to do in order for a show to succeed. The Woman in White is an accessible first “monster” for us to encounter because everyone can relate to ghosts and spirits at unrest and infidelity. More importantly, her character also serves to point out that while Sam is a straight arrow and faithful to his girlfriend, he hasn’t in a way been faithful to his family. His destiny was sealed twenty years ago (and even earlier, as we will realize much, much later) and he’s been running from it for the past four or five years. But the events at the end of the episode will ensure that he can’t run much longer.

Sam spends a weekend on the road with his estranged brother Dean, just like old times: one case solved between them, one less vengeful spirit out to harm the oblivious and unsuspecting.  Yet, Sam’s still not convinced. He wants a normal life. He remains tied down to his new life in Palo Alto with his loyal girlfriend. He has a life plan. He wants to go to law school and become a lawyer. The only way he would be forced to face his past head-on is if when he returns from his trip with Dean, he finds his girlfriend suffering the same fate his mother did over twenty years ago, set aflame on his bedroom ceiling, blood dripping onto his bed (crib), onto his skin. Which is exactly what happens.

There’s another change in the script here that’s worth noting. In the script, Dean is already there when Sam finds Jess on the ceiling, and both the brothers share that experience together. In the final cut, Sam is alone, as he was in his crib when John discovers Mary back in the very beginning. Ever since this first episode, we are hyperaware of the fact that while Dean is the one old enough to remember his mother alive, Sam is the one with a deep connection to her death and the thing that killed her.  With this final scene, the show gives an unspoken promise that we will later find out what exactly that connection is. But, we’ll have to wait, to watch, in order to uncover what exactly that connection is. Even this, even at another level, is all about faith. And so the boys head off in their trusty Impala with a trunk full of weapons and a glove compartment full of fake identification, in a search of their missing dad, in search of the thing that killed their mother (saving people and hunting things along the way), but more importantly, in search of a way to be brothers again.

Next Week: AMC’s The Killing