Breaking Bad Recap: Interview

“This is what comes of blood for blood.”   —Gustavo (Gus so doesn’t seem like an appropriate name for this guy anymore)

I love this show so much. I love this show So. Much. Just when I thought I knew the direction this season was going, just when I fancied myself impervious to surprise, BOOM — Roasted! I knew the character of Gustavo Fring wouldn’t forever merely hint at a third dimension, but in no way could I ever have predicted such a mind-blowing backstory for him — one that asks way more questions than it answers.

Right from the beginning, it was obvious “Hermanos” would be no ordinary chapter in this dark saga, from the unsettlingly cryptic cold-open to the Gus-POV shots before and after the interrogation. But all that is small potatoes in light of all the ways in which this episode deviates from the Breaking Bad norm in both style and content. Not only is the final act composed of a single intensely drawn-out flashback, but the flashback in question does not even belong to one of the show’s protagonists. In fact, Walt and Jesse are almost totally marginalized this week; Jesse shows up just long enough for me to finally declare him a MILF* (upon the realization that he’s been taking care of Brock and Andrea from afar), then immediately take it back (upon the sight of him wearing this bedazzled T-shirt — I swear, it’s like they don’t want us to like him too much). As for Walt, aside from his hilariously awkward comportment with both Hank and Gus and the bit of counter-development with Jesse, his big moment this week comes in the episode’s first scene, when, clad in only a hospital gown — basically the most vulnerability-evocative garment in existence — he once again asserts himself as a control freak of colossal proportions — Gracious, Walt, all right! Tell me something I don't know. “...who's in charge? Me. That's how I live my life,” he boasts to the hapless young cancer patient, which is pretty much the definition of dramatic irony when we put Walter White and Gustavo Fring side by side.

Indeed, this episode belonged to Gus and the event that so completely defined him as a businessman, a drug criminal and a person. That flashback explains so much about the show’s most mysterious character, his legendary composure/self-control, his questionable business tactics, the full extent of the blow he suffered in losing Gale, and perhaps most pertinent of all, his recurring trouble with the cartel. (It also draws some interesting parallels between Gus/Max and Walt/Jesse.)

As per Walt’s assessment last season, I, too, was convinced that Gus was acting purely out of business-related self-interest when he gave Hank a head start on the heretofore nameless assassins’ (Marco and Lionel) imminent attack and the resulting DEA involvement that ultimately resulted in the death of Juan Bolsa. How much more interesting and layered (and terrifying) does this character instantly become once we learn that he, in fact, is not motivated merely by money or success but also by vengeance. “Sangre por sangre,” he says to the invalid Hector, whose once-able hands spilled the blood of Gus’s lover (or at the very least, dear friend), protégé and first-ever business partner some two decades earlier. (Poor Gus (can I say that?) keeps losing his meth chefs. Like Max, Gale was an integral part of Gus’s business, but he did not partake of the additional elements of love and equality that clearly existed between the Pollos Hermanos.) Looking at the demure Gus of today, it’s hard to believe that he was once as helpless as Hector is now, as indignant as Jesse and as rash as Walter, but it’s also very easy to see how that experience would have created the lying, calculating, manipulative monster we’ve observed thus far but far from known. Not that we “know” Gus any better than before; we might have a more complete understanding of his motivation and his ultimate agenda, but we are still miles away from knowing Gustavo Fring. More than anything, this glimpse into his past created more questions. Who was the young Chilean of the lifesaving resources and, as Jesse would say, “unwastable” connections in the eyes of Mexico’s track-suit-wearing cocaine don of the ‘80s? And speaking of Don Eladio, has he already been a victim of what appears to be Gus’s personal vendetta or is his destruction yet to come? How long until Gus's endgame, the cartel’s ultimatum — whatever it is — and Hank’s rogue investigation collide noisily? And where exactly do Walt and Jesse figure in all of this?

I love this show so much!

*The M stands for murderer, naturally!

Breaking Bad Recap: Loyalty

"I'll kill him. First chance I get."   --Jesse

Ah, Episode 7. I had high hopes for this one, seeing as how it marks the season's midpoint and also because Episode 7 of last season was so explosive and such a game changer for the rest of Season 3. This week's episode did not disappoint; though it did not involve the stylish action sequence or elicit the sheer fear of "One Minute," "Problem Dog" gave us some similarly enthralling moments -- such as another terrific Jesse monologue -- and wrapped it all up with yet another exciting Hank-centric final scene. The two episodes essentially serve as bookends of Hank's most recent arc, in that this Episode 7 is all about his triumph over the -- understatement alert -- setback suffered in the last Episode 7. As Gale might have said: neat!

Chilling cold open this week of Jesse playing a first-person shooter video game, though we could see the implications of this even without the flashes of Gale popping in and out of his consciousness. (I mean, we get it: the kid has a traumatic history with guns; come on, show!) Elsewhere, Walt finds himself the begrudging object of yet another of Skyler's bossy directives, but instead of communicating his displeasure outright, like an adult, he goes out and does doughnuts in an empty parking lot in the very car his wife oh-so-gently instructed him to take back to the dealer. (He's still so repressed!) As cool as that scene was, the act itself still reads more like a nerdy Walter White interpretation of badassery than it does a  Heisenberg one, which is all the more evident when terminally uncool Walt finally gets the car stuck over a parking block, then takes petty pleasure in lighting it up and watching it go up in flames. But I do appreciate the unfulfilled expectation of the car exploding long after Walt was done walking dramatically away from it.

After a quick fix-it visit to Saul (Hi, Saul! Also, way to have your lawyer clean up your messes, Walt!), Walt visits his partner at home. This is the first time we've seen Jesse in his personal environment since Mike took him out for a drive, and in keeping with his new persona, he is hard at work painting over the graffiti on his walls, covering up all evidence of the hellpit he once lived in. Turning over a new leaf, as it were. And if the realization that it was Mike and Gus who motivated Jesse to at least overtly return to the land of the living gnaws on or registers at all with Walt, he doesn't show it. You see, he came with a plan -- attempting to beat Gus at his own game -- and as much as it bothers me to see him treat Jesse as a pawn in his power move, I can understand why Walt might see this as a last resort at this point. But, because he's Walt, he slathers it on way too thick. "Does [Gus] think you are that naive?" he asks Jesse, wink wink. To Walt's credit, at least he's graduated from outright calling Jesse an idiot to merely treating him like one, refreshing his memory on Gale and Victor and Andrea and Tomas and everything that spells out Gus = Evil. "Is it possible that he would think that you were that weak-willed?" Way to stick the landing, Walt! Is it possible that you would still think Jesse is no more than an idiot slacker addict? I get it: the blustery street speak fooled me too for a season and a half, but wake up and smell the series of personal traumas, man."Drop the sales pitch," Jesse says, proving once again he's not as easily duped as Walt thinks. "I'll do it." He agrees to kill Gus at the first opportunity.

But, whether it's the lingering Gale-guilt or the fact that Mike trusted him with a gun, Jesse ends up losing his nerve (making this the third time someone was not killed with ricin on this show), then after some more bonding with Mike, he rethinks it altogether and even lies to Walt about having an opportunity to carry out the plan. Mike later opines that the thing Gus sees in Jesse is loyalty, "only maybe you have it for the wrong guy." Whether this is Mike talking or merely carrying out Gus's edict is unclear, but the seed is planted. Jesse takes his newfound uncertainty straight to the NA meeting, where he does his best to elicit compassion, then hatred from the most theoretically understanding group of people available to him. But not even the so-called dregs of society can remain judgment-free when presented with Jesse's tale of executing a figurative "problem dog." That ensuing speech slash lashing out is full to the brim of his guilt, self-hatred, anger, despair. So much damned angst. Is there anything about Jesse Pinkman that won't decimate my heart this season? Throughout that quest for absolution and punishment alike, what he's seeking most of all are answers. "What's it all mean? What's the point?" he ponders. (He may not know the meaning of the term "Kafkaesque," but this kid is an amateur philosopher!) At the existential level, it's life itself he is conflicted about, but at the immediate level, it's the particular life he's chosen. What he's really asking is, Who do I pledge my loyalty to? Will it be Walt, whose days in this business (possibly on the planet) are numbered, or Gus, who himself has had a significant setback this episode? (That scene with the cartel representative was an excellent reminder that Gus is not the biggest threat our meth-cooking duo will face, and it wouldn't surprise me if he were eliminated as such by season's end, whether by getting killed or getting caught.)

And speaking of Hank, he may just be the one character this week who is absolutely sure about his purpose. Oh, Hank, you beautiful bald bastard! I cannot even express how worried I was for the reception his borderline-fantasy story would get from his former partner and boss. I feared the worst: that they would politely yet resolutely laugh him out of the office, and all the hard work, determination, and sheer force of will he had summoned up over the past couple of weeks would all just dissipate back into the self-lamenting, wife-abusing, mineral-collecting depression of a few episodes ago. And when the actual conversation onscreen reached that cringe-worthy moment, I was already shaking my head in sympathy. And then "Except..." happened. That single word uttered by an adorably smug Hank followed by an irrefutable piece of evidence establishing a connection between Gus and Gale had me promptly changing the sentiments behind my head shake. Just like that, I was the sap. Because of course Hank wouldn't present his findings to the DEA unless he was certain he had something good to show them. Hank, for me, is like the other side of Mike's coin, in that they are almost polar opposites in almost every way (position on the criminal spectrum, personality, demeanor) yet so very similar in their cleverness, efficiency, resilience, and plain awesome factor.

Other noteworthy bits:

• Loved the vegetable platter Mike and Jesse brought to the would-be cartel meeting. 'Cause nothing says you're amenable to a negotiation with your drug rivals than offering them crudites. Also loved the way Mike makes Jesse repeat the rule of the day back to him like a six-year-old -- "Eyes open, mouth shut." Ha!
• Great scene with Hank and Walt Jr., and I totally called it that Hank was after Gus's prints when he accepted that soda refill. But if Junior starts working at Pollos, so help me, I will flip my shit.
• It's merely Skyler's maiden voyage into active criminality, and she's already freaking out about the amount of money she needs to launder. Yet still she doesn't walk away.
• Mike to Jesse: "I figure I'd better teach you how to shoot." Oh, Mike -- so paternal! Maybe you two can toss a ball around after dinner.
• Hiding a vial of ricin inside a cigarette in case of an impromptu body search is the perfect kind of reminder for when I, too, sometimes forget that Jesse is sort of smart. For a while I had this character pegged for a future post about TV's most loveable idiots, but never mind now.

Breaking Bad Recap: Grown-Ups

"For what it's worth, getting the shit kicked out of you . . . You do kind of get used to it."   --Jesse

As though Mike gloriously kicking his ass in the last episode wasn't bad enough, in this new one Walt arrives at work only to find video cameras installed throughout the lab. Pumped full of righteous indignation over Gus's lack of trust, Walt proceeds to flip off the camera, thus kicking off a regression-heavy episode, which revolves mainly around the show's core characters and their respective lapses into immaturity. First, Walt bullies and ridicules Skyler into cutting him slack about his black eye after feeding her some line straight out of the battered woman handbook by way of explanation, in spite of the fact that, although she doesn't know it yet, she has justifiable reasons to be worried about both Walt and her own family's safety. Walt then follows up his childish diversion tactic by whining to Jesse about the "violation of the workspace" constituted by the lab cameras. Oh, Walt. That complaint was made even more ridiculous by yet another sighting of Mr. White in his trademark tighty-whities.

This episode really belonged to Skyler, who, in spite of her own regression into adolescent stubbornness with the whole carwash acquisition matter,* has managed to maneuver a very complex situation to her favor as well as trick her own husband into supporting her in the endeavor by appealing to his sense of pride. It was quite a treat to behold such a masterful manipulator at work and even better when, in spite of her ostensible confidence in her negotiating stratagems, she underwent that slight moment of doubt while waiting for the phone to ring the second time. Skyler is compelling precisely for being both calculating and vulnerable, and I'm relieved to see that Breaking Bad is finally starting to pay attention to its women.

Jesse's party, meanwhile, is still going full swing, if  we expand the meaning of the phrase to include the pathetic wasteland of addiction and excess the party has degenerated into since the last episode. And what spells excess more than the scene in which Jesse, playing the part of a modern-day Nero all too convincingly, makes it rain money over the junkies who have overtaken his home (while Tyrus The Goon watches it from afar)? Compared to how much energy the Whites are putting into their laundering scheme, Jesse seems almost deliberately careless with his money; I worry about that and especially about the cash he gave Andrea. It's ironic that not too long ago, Jesse was motivated entirely by greed, yet now that he is by most definitions a very rich man, he has also become deeply unstable and cripplingly lonely. I don't know what's sadder: the fact that Walt turned him down for go-karts or the fact that Jesse's expression all but begged him to come in the first place. In a weird twist of fate, Andrea and Brock, the two people who could offer Jesse some genuine companionship are also the walking reminders of the guilt he has unsuccessfully been trying to banish. It's heartbreaking to see him reverting back to this sort of childlike vulnerability, which is evident not only in his recent choice of recreational activities, but also in his seeking to spend time with his only available friend/ally and father figure: Walt, who has been neglecting both Jesse and his own son for some time (not to mention the fact that baby Holly is now being carted around by Skyler on her not-quite-above-board errands).

Poor Marie has reverted instead to her kleptomaniacal compulsions, going around inventing increasingly more exotic fantasy realities for herself and pocketing various tchotchkes from open houses around Albuquerque. The episode, aptly titled "Open House," spent quite a bit of time on this particular subplot, but I appreciated the fact that the show has brought back one of Marie's somewhat pointless Season 1 quirks in a way that actually makes sense now that she's dealing with an immobile bear of a husband at home. And speaking of Hank, his childish behavior is right where we left it last week: berating his wife and tending to his rocks -- sorry, minerals -- and literally jerking off. He's so bored that he agrees to take a look at Gale's lab notebook as a return-favor for the detective friend that kept Marie out of jail, and you'd better believe Hank is going to find something. Here's hoping that his involvement in this investigation will finally bring Hank out of his self-pitying funk, because Lord knows it's time something did.

*It's a bit of a problem when Saul Goodman is the most reasonable person in the room

Breaking Bad Recap: Bad Guys

"Get me in a room with [Gus] . . . and I'll do the rest."   --Walt

"I'm the bad guy," states a newly sober Jesse in the Season 3 premiere; it is not an offhand remark but a deliberate assertion and a carefully though-out self-identifier resulting from his guilt over Jane's and Combo's deaths. He utters the phrase with a sort of grim yet calm acceptance of what he perceives to be his role and lot in life at that point, but it is not until a whole season later, as he sits alone in front of an enormous subwoofer, that Jesse truly understands how ill-equipped he is to be an actual bad guy.

I've commented last week on how both Walt and Jesse's predicament is such that they are constantly required to negotiate codes of conduct and terms for operating within two different frameworks: the drug world and the real world. For the most part, they've both been plugging along, trying to walk the line but not really choosing a side until the end of Season 3, when both men irrevocably established themselves as gangsters by killing for one another; it was a triumphant moment when Walt came to Jesse's rescue and killed the two thugs responsible for Combo's and Tomas's deaths, and it symbolized Walt's resolve to have his partner's back. Likewise, killing Gale constituted a similar turning point for Jesse, except where Walt proved his allegiance to the partnership by arguably "doing the right thing," Jesse proved his by taking innocent life, the repercussions of which are proving to be debilitating. Unlike Walt, he lacks people in his life who ground him, and he has nothing and no one left to lose, which makes him both tragic and potentially dangerous. The drug-fueled party shots of last night's episode only serve to highlight how utterly alone Jesse is, and the final shot of him enduring a literal and figurative beating administered by a sound system, willing but unable to drown out the weight of what he did, was affecting, to say the least.

While Jesse self-medicates with drugs and rock and roll, Walt is on a mission. He has a much easier time accepting his role of bad guy, at least in theory, and intends to kill Gus at the first opportunity, except that Walt is Walt, and he makes a piss-poor concealed weapon carrier, let alone premeditated murderer. I appreciated the fact that Walt donned his Heisenberg hat right before walking toward Gus's house with murderous intent; unlike Jesse, he still believes he is two people and continues to rationalize his crimes, as we see him doing in his conversation with Mike, right before the latter administers Walt's first beating in the history of Breaking Bad -- a nice change of pace from Jesse being the show's perpetual punching bag. I can't decide if that beating was a result of Mike's loyalty to Gus or his desire to deter Walt from making an even bigger mess of things, but one thing is certain: that guy is a lot more than meets the eye, and I can't wait for the episode that starts digging deeper into his character in a way that goes further than showing him wearily wiping off remnants of Victor from his jacket (not that that wasn't awesome). These three are bad guys, but they sure are intriguing.

In contrast, Hank, who is able to act like a decent human being with everyone but his wife, is a good guy temporarily acting like a bad guy. It's quite the emasculating circumstance he's currently in -- having to depend on Marie for everything -- especially for a man who revels in his masculinity as much as Hank does, and it's tough not to feel for him. These two have a very interesting, old-school kind of marriage; it's safe to assume that young Marie was not first drawn to Hank by his sensitive poet's soul but by the same brand of blustery machismo we've all come to expect from and love about him. The two of them are not "soul mates" in the new-age sense of the term by any means. In the entire history of the show, we've only seen Hank open up to his wife on the occasion of his suspension from the DEA following his brutal assault on Jesse. His job, as he sees it, is to provide for and protect Marie, and now that he can't, he is punishing her by pushing her away, and I am looking forward to the day when Marie will give up the Florence Nightingale routine and really let him have it, because let's face it: that day will come -- remember their bet while Hank was still in the hospital?

This episode was not as edgy or heart-stopping as the last one, but I enjoyed the slower pace and the quiet promise of complications to come. What did everyone else think?

P.S. How funny/typical is it that Saul, like any ambulance chaser worth his salt, is using the plane accident to his advantage? Why let a good air traffic disaster go to waste, after all? And how about that nice little piece of continuity that explained how Walt was able to so cleanly toss a giant pizza onto the roof of his house, back in Season 3?

Breaking Bad Recap: How Pure Can Pure Be?

"At least now . . . we're all on the same page . . . the one that says, 'If I can't kill you, you'll sure as shit wish you were dead.'"   --Jesse

I told myself I had neither the time nor the inclination to recap Breaking Bad for the blog and thus delve deeper -- emotionally, psychologically -- into this world than I already have just by watching and being entranced by it over the past three seasons. But I guess I'll have to find the time because the fourth season premiere has just delivered the inclination; there's too damn much to say about this show in a way that internal rumination just isn't going to cut it.

It's funny how I find myself writing simultaneously about two shows so similar in premise, yet so vastly different in tone, depth, and creative reach. Both Weeds and Breaking Bad feature straight protagonists going crooked for the sake of their families, but where the former has developed into an increasingly darker comedy sprinkled with dramatic moments (and hit a bit of a slump around Season 5), the latter kicked off in a dark place right off the bat (the first fatality occurs in the pilot episode), yet the powers that be have managed to keep the plot moving steadily and meaningfully forward and to add new layers of characterization season after season. Breaking Bad is a show devoid of wasted, or pointless, scenes; actions have ramifications that range from the personally tragic to the catastrophic, and each episode has me walking away with a sense of wonder, whether it's caused by a skilfully shot cliffhanger, a tense action sequence, a character-revealing scene, or a moment of particular poignancy. The amount of time I spend arguing back and forth with myself about a character's virtue (or lack thereof), possible justification (or lack thereof), and/or redeemability (or lack thereof), is a testament to how well crafted and psychologically fascinating this show is. It is a highly suspenseful, plot-packed one, to be sure, but make no mistake: character begets action every time on Breaking Bad. And they say television is an inferior form of storytelling.

Last season ended with a conflicted (and tragically lucid) Jesse being forced to carry out Walt's plan for preserving both of their lives: killing Gale, the only other person who could provide Walt's services to the cartel and arguably the most harmless player in Breaking Bad's complicated web of meth production. We are aware of Gale's relative innocence because the show takes deliberate pains to humanize him as a character mere minutes before Jesse shows up to tremulously raise a gun to his head. Fans of the show have been dying to slake their curiosity regarding Gale's fate -- Did the camera merely pan to the side or did Jesse shift aim before shooting? -- and tonight's episode, aptly titled "Box Cutter," reveals it: Gale is indeed dead (along with Jesse's innocence), found by his neighbors and later by Victor, the young goon from the lab -- "Splattered all over," he says. Victor soon stumbles upon a stupefied, nearly catatonic Jesse and delivers him back at the lab, where Mike and Walt are each anxiously awaiting him for entirely different reasons.

The rest of the episode is almost a study in silent acting: Marie in the car, summoning up her inner strength before going inside to deal with a still-immobile Hank (whom she loves but whose mulish machismo makes him a difficult patient); Marie again, struggling to infuse some dignity into helping Hank with the inherently undignified task of defecating into a bedpan; Mike and Walt staring each other down, while Jesse and Victor show up, pointedly revealing Gale's outcome without exchanging a single word. The piece de resistance, of course, is the scene in which Gus, seething with suppressed rage, wordlessly slashes Victor's throat mere feet away from Walt and Jesse's horrified faces, as if to say, "See what you made me do?"

The show is no stranger to graphic, stylish violence, but tonight's gore was little more than a massacre made possible by the titular box cutter -- the same one we earlier saw in a flashback, being wielded by Gale for the purpose of unpacking the lab equipment; one man's device of scientific revelation is another man's instrument of unspeakable brutality. We always knew Gus was a callous bastard, but this was the first time we've seen him act in a way that involved getting his hands dirty -- and how! -- and it was chilling to behold. Even  consummate professional "cleaner" Mike was taken aback by the gruesome display.  Gus, multitasking pro that he is, kills Victor as a means to both tie a loose end and deliver a message to Walt and Jesse, who look on in abject terror. With the exception of Walt's panicked rationalizations and prattling on about his and Jesse's worth, it is nearly ten minutes of a wordless Gus painstakingly suiting up in the hazmat suit, then just as carefully cleaning up after the suit's purpose is served. "Get back to work," he finally says upon leaving. I suddenly have a much easier time believing Gus capable of ordering the murder of the 11-year-old boy from Season 3.

One of the most interesting aspects of this show is in observing the ways in which Walt and Jesse struggle to operate within two frameworks: the real world with its clear, albeit varied, definitions of morality and the chaotic crime world where the regular rules don't apply. Some of the pivotal events of the last season occurred as a direct result of either Walt or Jesse muddying the line between the two worlds, and even though attempting to operate with a semblance of honor in a world run by criminals is inadvisable and more than a little hypocritical, it is also impossible not to admire the intent. In spite of the dark, dark themes, Breaking Bad is a joy to watch perhaps because of its lack of concern with portraying their characters in a sympathetic light. The show takes an almost anthropological approach, wherein it casts no judgment on the characters and thus prohibits the audience from doing so, either. I'm not saying Breaking Bad is a perfect depiction of moral ambiguity, but let's say it's 96% pure.

Other memorable moments this week:

• Walt worrying about the toxic fumes from Victor's cook, then desperately trying to convince Jesse (and himself) that Victor would screw it up somehow; Walt's rule-following personality and his penchant for rationalization are recurring motifs on the show.

• The entire hilarious scene involving Saul, his bodyguard, and his new-found paranoia; "You've got a passport, right?"

• Skyler conning the locksmith into letting her into Walt's apartment; she is always so good in a crisis and in many ways, much cooler under pressure than either Walt or Jesse. 

• Walt verbalizing responsibility for Gale and thus absolving Jesse, at least symbolically, of the blame: "I'd shoot him again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that."

• Jesse telling Mike to "Trust us." when the latter expresses doubt about the chemicals used to dispose of Victor's corpse; Jesse and Walt have prior experience dissolving bodies in acid. 

• Walt and Jesse at the diner, discussing the previous night's events; Walt finally treats Jesse as an equal partner, asking him for ideas on how to proceed, while Jesse copes with what's transpired in the quintessential Jesse way: aloof flippancy. 

• The final shot of the episode echoing the beginning flashback; Gale's fastidiousness in keeping around a folder entitled "lab notes" for the cops to find may have been his final, accidental act of revenge on the people who killed him.

As I said: no filler scenes on this show.