9 recensioni
So, before everything, just pay some attention to this fact that this episode was a premier for 13th season of a TV series. and yet, everything is fine (if not at it's best), and even much better than the last season.
all characters are gone for good, and there is a new character which is very fun. i think that we have a very good season this year... just like how they say : 13 is their lucky number!
all characters are gone for good, and there is a new character which is very fun. i think that we have a very good season this year... just like how they say : 13 is their lucky number!
- alirezamatrian
- 11 ott 2017
- Permalink
Season 12 was such a mess and such a bore that I dreaded where season 13 would go. Fortunately, Dabb and the other writers managed to make two sweeping choices that help to revitalize the show. First they centered a good portion of the season's tension on Jack being good, evil, and/or human. In a sense Jack is shifted into the formal protagonist role which allows both Sam and Dean to play much different plot functions then they usually do. This greatly helps everything feel fresh. Second, almost every other of Supernatural opening episode centers the season long conflict between Sam and Dean in a deception or a lie, i.e. Sam hides drinking demon blood in season 4, Dean hides Zeke in season 8. In this case, the conflict between the the brothers is explicit without any deception (or at least sans deception between them). This introduces a fundamentally different dynamic for the Winchesters-to be buttheads over true disagreement when all factors are known.
This episode manages to be entertaining while restructuring the central dynamics of the show. It is why season 13 rapidly recovers from the abysmal season 12.
This episode manages to be entertaining while restructuring the central dynamics of the show. It is why season 13 rapidly recovers from the abysmal season 12.
- CubsandCulture
- 8 lug 2021
- Permalink
- new_jersey1988
- 15 ott 2017
- Permalink
That's it, I'm done with this show for good. I've seen every episode up to here, even the really bad ones (which have been released in surplus recently). This show has NOTHING new to offer. Every plot is poorly recycled and terribly executed to the point of the show being so incredibly predictable, it is void of any value or enjoyment. The writing is some of the worst I have ever seen adapted to screen in my life (and I've seen a good amount of movies and shows). It blatantly panders to sad, lonely tumblr girls who can't see the bad writing and production through the attractive leads (who I honestly don't find all that attractive in the first place). I made my way through the abomination of season 12, hoping it might eventually get better like it clearly had the ability to be (as seen in the first five seasons), but there's honestly now hope for this show at this point.
- alienf3tus
- 14 nov 2017
- Permalink
"Lost and Found," the thirteenth season premiere of Supernatural, directed by Philip Sgriccia and written by Andrew Dabb, opens with a palpable sense of loss and uncertainty, immediately following the cataclysmic events of the previous finale. The episode's tone is somber and introspective, with the Winchester brothers reeling from the deaths of Castiel and Crowley, and Mary's disappearance into an alternate dimension with Lucifer. The cold open, featuring Dean and Sam's devastated reactions as they process the aftermath, sets a mood of raw vulnerability that permeates the entire hour.
The narrative quickly shifts to the central mystery: the emergence of Jack Kline, Lucifer's Nephilim son, whose birth triggered the deaths and chaos that closed season twelve. Jack's introduction is handled with a blend of innocence and menace. Found naked and confused in the woods, Jack (Alex Calvert) stumbles into a fast-food joint, where his childlike demeanor and cryptic questions about his "father" immediately unsettle those around him. Calvert's performance is a highlight-he imbues Jack with a sense of wonder and vulnerability, but flashes of his supernatural power and the ambiguity of his lineage keep both characters and viewers on edge.
As the brothers search for Jack, the episode foregrounds the classic Sam-Dean dichotomy: Dean, hardened by grief and convinced that Jack is a threat, is ready to kill him; Sam, ever the optimist and shaped by his own history as a "freak," wants to believe Jack can choose his own destiny. Their philosophical clash is sharply drawn in their early scenes, with Dean's anger and hopelessness contrasting with Sam's empathy and hope. The script cleverly mirrors past storylines-Sam's own struggles with his demonic heritage-while updating the stakes for a new generation.
The episode's structure is tight and cinematic, with Sgriccia's direction making use of sweeping camera movements and a moody, evocative soundtrack that underscores both the tension and emotional weight of the story. The police station sequence, in which Jack is taken into custody by Sheriff Christine Barker and her son Clark, is a standout. Here, Jack's otherness is made literal-his fingerprints are vertical lines, not whorls-and his interactions with the sheriff and Clark are laced with both humor and unease. Jack's confusion ("I'm on a chair, on the floor, on the planet Earth") is played for laughs, but his power is never far from the surface.
The action escalates when a trio of angels, desperate to control or destroy Jack, attack the police station. The ensuing chaos is well-staged, with Sam and Dean forced to protect Jack and the sheriff's family. The fight choreography is brisk, and the use of practical effects-flickering lights, shattered glass-adds to the sense of supernatural menace. Sam's use of an angel-banishing sigil, drawn in his own blood while battered and cornered, is a classic Supernatural moment that combines ingenuity, desperation, and mythological flair.
Amidst the supernatural action, the episode never loses sight of its emotional core. The funeral pyre for Castiel is a devastating sequence, shot with reverence and restraint. Sam's inability to say goodbye, instead choosing to explain to Jack what it means to lose someone, is a poignant touch that speaks to the brothers' enduring trauma and the impossibility of closure in their world. Dean's silent farewell, his anguish barely contained, is one of Jensen Ackles' most nuanced performances-his grief simmering beneath a veneer of stoic resolve.
The supporting cast, particularly Kim Rhodes as Sheriff Barker, adds depth and realism to the small-town setting. The sheriff's pragmatic response to the Winchesters' revelations, and her willingness to trust them in a crisis, grounds the episode's more fantastical elements. The angels, while somewhat generic as antagonists, serve their purpose in heightening the stakes and forcing the brothers to confront the reality of Jack's power.
Visually, the episode is striking. Sgriccia employs a muted color palette and low lighting to evoke a sense of mourning and uncertainty. The editing is sharp, maintaining a brisk pace without sacrificing character moments. The soundtrack, as always, is used to great effect, with musical cues amplifying both suspense and sorrow.
If the episode has a weakness, it is in its reliance on familiar Supernatural tropes-the outsider with a dangerous destiny, the brothers' philosophical divide, the threat of angelic intervention. However, these elements are handled with enough emotional honesty and stylistic flair to feel fresh. The introduction of Jack as a character who is neither wholly innocent nor inherently evil sets up a compelling arc for the season, echoing the show's long-standing themes of free will versus destiny, and nature versus nurture.
In conclusion, "Lost and Found" is a confident, emotionally resonant premiere that re-centers Supernatural on its core strengths: character-driven drama, mythological intrigue, and the enduring bond between brothers. Through strong performances, cinematic direction, and a willingness to embrace both grief and hope, the episode sets the stage for a season that promises to explore what it means to be lost, to be found, and to choose one's own path in a world shaped by loss and uncertainty.
The narrative quickly shifts to the central mystery: the emergence of Jack Kline, Lucifer's Nephilim son, whose birth triggered the deaths and chaos that closed season twelve. Jack's introduction is handled with a blend of innocence and menace. Found naked and confused in the woods, Jack (Alex Calvert) stumbles into a fast-food joint, where his childlike demeanor and cryptic questions about his "father" immediately unsettle those around him. Calvert's performance is a highlight-he imbues Jack with a sense of wonder and vulnerability, but flashes of his supernatural power and the ambiguity of his lineage keep both characters and viewers on edge.
As the brothers search for Jack, the episode foregrounds the classic Sam-Dean dichotomy: Dean, hardened by grief and convinced that Jack is a threat, is ready to kill him; Sam, ever the optimist and shaped by his own history as a "freak," wants to believe Jack can choose his own destiny. Their philosophical clash is sharply drawn in their early scenes, with Dean's anger and hopelessness contrasting with Sam's empathy and hope. The script cleverly mirrors past storylines-Sam's own struggles with his demonic heritage-while updating the stakes for a new generation.
The episode's structure is tight and cinematic, with Sgriccia's direction making use of sweeping camera movements and a moody, evocative soundtrack that underscores both the tension and emotional weight of the story. The police station sequence, in which Jack is taken into custody by Sheriff Christine Barker and her son Clark, is a standout. Here, Jack's otherness is made literal-his fingerprints are vertical lines, not whorls-and his interactions with the sheriff and Clark are laced with both humor and unease. Jack's confusion ("I'm on a chair, on the floor, on the planet Earth") is played for laughs, but his power is never far from the surface.
The action escalates when a trio of angels, desperate to control or destroy Jack, attack the police station. The ensuing chaos is well-staged, with Sam and Dean forced to protect Jack and the sheriff's family. The fight choreography is brisk, and the use of practical effects-flickering lights, shattered glass-adds to the sense of supernatural menace. Sam's use of an angel-banishing sigil, drawn in his own blood while battered and cornered, is a classic Supernatural moment that combines ingenuity, desperation, and mythological flair.
Amidst the supernatural action, the episode never loses sight of its emotional core. The funeral pyre for Castiel is a devastating sequence, shot with reverence and restraint. Sam's inability to say goodbye, instead choosing to explain to Jack what it means to lose someone, is a poignant touch that speaks to the brothers' enduring trauma and the impossibility of closure in their world. Dean's silent farewell, his anguish barely contained, is one of Jensen Ackles' most nuanced performances-his grief simmering beneath a veneer of stoic resolve.
The supporting cast, particularly Kim Rhodes as Sheriff Barker, adds depth and realism to the small-town setting. The sheriff's pragmatic response to the Winchesters' revelations, and her willingness to trust them in a crisis, grounds the episode's more fantastical elements. The angels, while somewhat generic as antagonists, serve their purpose in heightening the stakes and forcing the brothers to confront the reality of Jack's power.
Visually, the episode is striking. Sgriccia employs a muted color palette and low lighting to evoke a sense of mourning and uncertainty. The editing is sharp, maintaining a brisk pace without sacrificing character moments. The soundtrack, as always, is used to great effect, with musical cues amplifying both suspense and sorrow.
If the episode has a weakness, it is in its reliance on familiar Supernatural tropes-the outsider with a dangerous destiny, the brothers' philosophical divide, the threat of angelic intervention. However, these elements are handled with enough emotional honesty and stylistic flair to feel fresh. The introduction of Jack as a character who is neither wholly innocent nor inherently evil sets up a compelling arc for the season, echoing the show's long-standing themes of free will versus destiny, and nature versus nurture.
In conclusion, "Lost and Found" is a confident, emotionally resonant premiere that re-centers Supernatural on its core strengths: character-driven drama, mythological intrigue, and the enduring bond between brothers. Through strong performances, cinematic direction, and a willingness to embrace both grief and hope, the episode sets the stage for a season that promises to explore what it means to be lost, to be found, and to choose one's own path in a world shaped by loss and uncertainty.
- fernandoschiavi
- 5 mag 2025
- Permalink
Dean and Sam have some loss to deal with, they try to find Jack. Jack's cute and innocent with powers he can't control.
Also the action doesn't work.
There is no fear, the horror is completely dead, its been dead for a while but i think its safe to say the main plot is not scary in the least.
I thought this would be the end of Mary but won't be having that sweet relief.
The writers have a pattern with Dean. Something bad happens, he starts acting like a murderous bigot ass*ole, its getting old, too old.
Also maybe i'm too dumb but i did not understand the motivations of the fake dumb angel.
- shwetafabm
- 29 lug 2020
- Permalink