3 out of 5

Created by: Emily Andras

covers seasons 1 – 4

Supernatural ran for, what, 15 seasons? It had its ups and downs, but was really at its strongest during those first five Kripke seasons – which I’d maintain are some of the best blends of episodic + ongoing storytelling in popcorn TV, especially considering the 22 episode seasons – and then kind of bounced between fan service, and varying attempts at trying to find a good hook for continuing. It never took itself too seriously, but took its world semi-seriously, which I think helped to keep us engaged.

Keep the wonky lore and spooks and creatures subject matter and general tone, shrink that down to a four season span, gender swap things to a degree, and you have Wynonna Earp. But: that same consolidation doesn’t allow the best parts of the show as much room to breathe, and condenses the long tail to a speedrun of speedbumps. Flipping back to positives, we’re dealing with a different era of TV, and Wynona’s showrunners were exponentially more progressive and intelligent with their treatment of sexuality and conversations on social politics versus Supernatural’s frequent bro-ness and scripting clunk; but again, the somewhat confused focus of the show past its first season can also relegate some of this to feeling like fan service or preaching – it often comes across as an aside to the show. But to be fair, almost everything starts to feel that way in season 2 and on.

Wynonna Earp (Melanie Scrofano) returns to her hometown of Purgatory, and the first episode wastes zero time in setting up the primary plot borders: that that Earp name is, indeed, of the Wyatt Earp lineage; that the Earps have an inherited curse of needing to protect Purgatory from various demons, who resurrect for each generation’s “heir” to the demon-killing weapon – long-barreled gun called  Peacemaker – and Wynonna has just come of age to be the heir. Although rather infamous in town, Wynona eventually takes to her calling, as supported by her history-loving sister, Waverly (Dominique Provost-Chalkley), and frenemy relations with the local police, a supernatural special forces “Black Badge” marshal named Dolls (Shamier Anderson), and the resurrected and immortal Doc Holliday (Tim Rozon). Season 1 sets up some main baddies – namely the demon-leading Bobo (Michael Eklund) – and casts about via mostly one-off monster hunts to outline the curse, what Wynona can do to end the curse, and significantly escalate stakes so things never seem quite all that straightforward or isolated to Purgatory. This is a rather offhand description, which is the misleading magic of that first season: Scrofano absolutely carries and defines the show, snarking humorously in a manner that belies and eventually allows for more character depth than one-liners, and what initially seems like just a rundown of bogeymen and random lore additions starts to feel very purposeful, and very driven, building up to an intense, season-ending showdown.

…Thereafter, some of the cracks papered over by the season’s generally breakneck pace become more transparent, and the show becomes a cycle of sharks almost jumped over, before we’re reeled back in for some interesting developments, and letting the cycle begin again. Scrofano’s quips become more surface level, as do many of the characterizations, as Dolls and Doc Holliday are mostly leveraged as plot roadblocks, meaning they flip-flop in their relation to Wynonna as needed to eke out some drama. Provost-Chalkley is definitely the second MVP of the show, with the actor’s charms bringing out more dimension than I think the stories demand, and making her interactions with Officer Haught (Katherine Barrell) very rewarding, even if they fall prey to the fandom baiting mentioned above.

However, it’s mostly the world-building that becomes tiresome: a trick employed in the first season puts some connective details into between-episode moments, so we find characters just knowing about some new Peacemaker ability or demon trait and we play catch up. The way this is effected, it’s actually immersive: it rewards paying attention, and suggests the world is continuing, even when we’re not around. Wynonna and Waverly and Purgatory feel, relatively, real. The control over this trick slips, though, as the writers keep looking for bigger and bigger stakes, and it becomes more apparent that this is by-the-seat-of-our-pants stuff, with just enough detail to keep the show rolling. This does produce some really fun stuff we might not otherwise have gotten to, but it’s becomes easier to have the show as background instead of feeling like every moment matters.