Parting thoughts on Breaking Bad

**SPOILERS HEREIN!**

“I won.” That’s my pick for the greatest single moment of the series.

You know the scene I’m talking about. Having just vanquished Gus Fring (Giancarlo Esposito) after a battle of wills that lasted more than a whole season, Walter White’s (Bryan Cranston) now ruthless ego won’t even let him calm a worried Skyler (Anna Gunn) with a reassuring lie. But instead of letting us revel in Walt’s triumph with him, the understated tune “Black” by Danger Mouse, Danielle Luppi, and Norah Jones starts to play. There’s a release from the relentless tension we’ve felt for so long, but also a sense of darkness, of mourning for Walt’s soul. We soon see why, when the episode cuts to a shot of a potted plant next to the White family pool, and everyone seeing it for the first time reacts somewhere along the lines of “Oh my god! He didn’t!”

That scene, from the fourth season finale “Face Off,” capped an almost season-and-a-half-long conflict that was the best arc on the show. And during that run, I’m certain, it was the greatest show in the history of television. No other show I’ve seen held a shred of the tension this show gave us from the last few episodes of its third season through the fourth, for any length of time. No other show put its main character through the ringer like Walt and had him transform so drastically before our eyes. There was even a really cool drug war story that would have been a good movie by itself as a subplot.

It was almost too good. The show reached a peak so high during this time that anything coming after it, even if it were still quite good by any other standards, would seem like something of a drop-off. That’s the sort of limbo in which the fifth season resides: somewhere between the greatest piece of television, ever, and the rest of what’s on TV.

This isn’t to say the fifth season’s bad, and it isn’t. There were some very good moments and great work from the cast, especially Bryan Cranston, Anna Gunn, and Dean Norris. But the drop-off from previous seasons is noticeable. For one, the first part of season five that aired last summer seemed to consist of episodes more self-contained than before. While they were mostly still good, it wasn’t nearly as compelling as having a continuing story as the main focus (the second half of the season, which concluded last night, was much more connected and more captivating for it). And to be fair, Giancarlo Esposito made Gus a tough act to follow, but bringing in neo-Nazis as the villains seemed just lazy from the get-go. It’s like instead of introducing new villains and letting them develop into memorable bad guys, they took the easy route and just chose an archetype people automatically know is bad. And as awful as he was, Todd (Jesse Plemons) always seemed more annoying and grating than truly evil (though I didn’t enjoy his death scene any less for that).

My biggest gripe is that Jesse (Aaron Paul) seemed almost demoted to secondary character status. In the first four seasons, Jesse was almost an equal to Walt, in terms of screen time and story treatment. Paul was so fantastic at bringing emotion to the tortured character. But in the first half of season five, he was kind of pushed aside, as the focus went squarely toward Walt. In the second part, he was little more than a thorn in Walt’s side to get things moving, and then finally just another a loose end locked away in Todd and company’s meth lab dungeon.

But above all, season four’s ending that I described was so perfect. If that had been the final ending of the series (and I’ve heard rumors that it was at one point possibly going to be the end, though I can’t find anything to back this up), it would have been a mesmerizing, subtle but powerful denouement, à la The Godfather Part II. Instead, the series went for the Godfather III ending. 

Now, if you haven’t seen The Godfather series, first of all, why? Second, I’m about to explain my comparison, but I’ll be spoiling the movies as much as Breaking Bad. You’ve been warned.

In The Godfather Part II, Al Pacino’s character Michael Corleone, the boss of the eponymous crime family founded by his father, is attempting to make his businesses legitimate. However, his enemies sense weakness, and attempt to make a power play against him. Determined not to lose his grip on power, and also vengeful of any slight against him, Michael strikes back at all those that stand in his way. In the end, he cements his power, but at the cost of driving everyone he cares about away. The final scene of the picture shows Michael sitting all alone, in silence.

Walt’s circumstances are slightly different. For one, Michael Corleone murders a family member, whereas Walt desperately tries to avoid doing so. Also, while it's pretty clear from early on that Michael is damned, we’re still rooting for Walt in season four. For all we know, he’s still a hero, only killing bad people to protect himself. But then the close-up of the lily of the valley absolutely stuns, letting us know just how bad Walt has become. As with Michael Corleone, we are left to contemplate on Walt’s soul. It might even be a better ending than Godfather II because that final shot and what it implies is a surprise that challenges so many things we previously thought about Walt, whereas Michael’s ending was a more inevitable conclusion. 

The Godfather Part III has several flaws that Breaking Bad didn’t, but its biggest misstep is that it makes the same point as Part II in an inferior way. Whereas Part II is smart and subdued to let us think about Michael's deeds and their implications, Part III makes the consequences of his actions clear in the most unsubtle way (in a scene that plays more schmaltzy than emotionally devastating). The fifth season kind of took this route, but did it much better. While the Michael Corleone in Godfather III was a man really trying to make amends, Walt in the first part of this season is a bad man sinking even deeper into darkness. When he tries to make good in the second part after his cancer returns, he much more believably has trouble doing so because he's already gone way past the point of no return. And his failure, culminating in all the devastation packed into “Ozymandias,” is something to behold. I actually feel a little bad calling it the Godfather III ending because the label almost implies it was bad, where in actuality it was one of the greatest episodes, and the knife fight in the White household the show's most shocking, emotional, and volatile moment.

But it didn’t end there. The show gave us two more episodes, one that essentially just lists all the loose ends still left, and one that ties all of them up. From a narrative view, it would have been a lot more satisfying to present a really good final chapter and not worry about every loose end. I mean, when Gus met his demise and Walt came out on top in season four, were you even thinking about Ted Beneke (Christopher Cousins) and his skull fracture, or Mike (Jonathan Banks) recovering from a gunshot down in Mexico? No, you weren’t. Great endings go above and beyond such small threads of plot.

There were a lot of other possible end points throughout season five that might have worked better. It could have ended with “Live Free or Die,” the very first episode. It would have struck much of the same contemplative tone as “Face Off,” but Walt’s line to Skyler “I forgive you.” would have left things on a much more chilling note. It could have ended with “Gliding Over All,” with Walt packing it in after his cancer returns and making a storage unit full of money, and Hank (Dean Norris) shrugging off his revelation on the toilet as ridiculous. A little less satisfying of an ending, maybe, but it would have worked. It could have ended with Hank giving up his attempt to put Walt away in failure, and with Jesse riding off into a new life, if Jesse hadn’t had his accidental realization about the ricin cigarette (that’s one thing I don’t like, when big plot turns arise out of little coincidences like this). But the best ending (well, second best, behind "I won.") would have been “Ozymandias.” It would have been quite fitting, seeing Walt drive off to a new life in who-cares-where, alone and dying, with a barrel of money but not the people he was supposedly making the money for. Downbeat, but not undeserved for all he’s done.

As for the finale we did get, I enjoyed watching it enough as an episode. I loved the twist-filled visit to Gretchen (Jessica Hecht) and Elliot (Adam Godley), and seeing the Nazis get gunned down. And I’ll admit, I bought into the victorious fanfare and nostalgia that was obviously in the air as things wrapped up (despite the fact that my nostalgia only goes back about a year-and-a-half to when I first started the show on Netflix, not all the way to 2008 when it premiered). But I couldn’t ignore the fact that this was the Walt from about early season two (willing to kill to protect himself, but still relatively a good guy), not the evil Walt we’ve seen all season. In order to believe that Walt could actually be back, and to buy into his final triumph (complete with Badfinger’s more upbeat “Baby Blue” playing out the last scene this time), you almost have to forget a lot of things he’s done, going all the way back to poisoning Brock (Ian Posada) in season four.

I also wanted more from the conclusions regarding Walt’s family and Jesse. Especially Jesse. He may be free from his cooking captivity, but he‘s without money (having thrown it all away like a paperboy), and ostensibly a wanted man. And while I was happy to see Todd go, I‘m not so sure about having Jesse be the one to do it. On one hand, it’s satisfying as payback for Andrea (Emily Rios), but on the other, I didn’t want Jesse to kill again. The way Gale’s (David Costabile) death haunted him made it clear he wasn’t like Walt, that he didn’t come to see killing as just part of doing business. This showed his soul was more redeemable than his former teacher’s. Maybe being imprisoned changed him, at least enough to kill Todd, but then his refusal to kill Walt complicated my thoughts on his state of mind. His thread is still rather loose, and I would have loved to have gotten more closure.

As for Skyler, Walter Jr. (RJ Mitte), Marie (Betsy Brandt), and Holly, the one scene with Skyler felt really insufficient. Somehow I doubt Walt’s plan to clear Skyler and funnel his money to Jr. through Gretchen and Elliot will go so smoothly. I did like how he finally admitted to her that at some point he quit cooking meth for the family and started doing so for himself, but I figured that out a while ago. He already admitted as much to Jesse during his oh-so-awkward visit to the White house in the first part of the season, but even then I didn't need it spelled out for me. I got a feeling Skyler didn't, either.

So, the finale was good, but it didn't seem nearly like the best finale that a show this good could have given us. That kind of goes for the whole final season: not as great as the show was at its very best, but still very solid television.

As for the series as a whole, instead of repeating anything that’s already been said by me or anyone else, I’ll merely point out that I just compared it to The Godfather. That’s pretty damn good company. Is it the best show ever made? I’ll really have to think about that, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to answer because it was so unlike any other great show. But I will say with confidence that Walter White was the greatest television character in history. Never have I seen a character undergo such a metamorphosis, and Bryan Cranston was believable and so captivating every step of the way, from his meekest moment to his most ruthless act. I’m equally confident there will never be another character even close to his level.

Breaking Bad, "Felina"

**SPOILERS HEREIN!**

Well, the answers to all our guessing games about who would survive and what would happen are now revealed. Turns out I was wrong about Walt (Bryan Cranston) shooting the neighbor lady, but my eventual assumption that the machine gun in the trunk was going to be used on the Nazis proved to be correct. My rumination on Skyler’s (Anna Gunn) interrogation scene last week turned out to be for naught. And one personal thought I didn’t blog on—that the series’ very last scene would be a funny one finding Saul Goodman (Bob Odenkirk) adjusting to his new identity—also, incorrect.

As for the episode itself, I’m a little torn. Last week I used an analogy about how the show was setting up every loose end like bowling pins. Well, this episode didn’t level them all in a strike, but seemed to instead  knock each one down individually, in order, so as not to leave any loose end untied. It resolved everything, but it didn’t exactly have the explosive impact desired for a finale.

That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy how some of the loose ends were tied up. I loved the sequence where Walt paid a visit to Gretchen (Jessica Hecht) and Elliot (Adam Godley). I loved the way it started off tense and had us thinking Walt was going to do horrible things to them, then seemed like he really was only there with good intent, then revealed that no, he hadn’t gone soft, then twisted yet again to reveal he’d lost so much of his clout he could only bluff at this point. I also got a great deal of satisfaction seeing the Nazis get blown away, and Todd (Jesse Plemons) getting spared momentarily for Jesse (Aaron Paul) to finish him off.

Parts of it were very good, and the slow, deliberate way each scene built to its end, and every scene built to the climax, reminded me of the very tense tone in the final two episodes of season four, during Walt and Gus Fring’s endgame. But I couldn’t quite get past the fact that from a story standpoint, it basically runs down a checklist of every loose end and crosses them off, instead of building toward a conclusion organically. Some of the tie-ups were a little disappointing, too. For instance, Skyler deserved a lot more resolution than just a single scene. So did Jesse, especially after the Hell he went through this season.

So, that’s how I feel about this episode structurally speaking. As for the ending, I’m going to need some time to let it sink in and think about it.

One little element I loved, though: Todd’s ringtone for his apparent unrequited crush Lydia (Laura Fraser), a very big laugh coming just after the most climactic moment. This is one of the things I’ll miss most about the show, how it injects humor into spots where we’re not even thinking about humor. And it works. Whether it be casting a character like Saul or a throwaway scene like a pizza on the roof, it always worked.

Coming later this week: Final thoughts on season five, and the series.

Rush

Here is a sports picture done the right way. It doesn’t package its subjects into the standard sports movie product with underdog stories, big games (or in this case, races), or sentimental moral lessons. That wouldn’t be very interesting. The focus is rather on the men involved in the story and what drives them. In that respect, its viewpoint is more similar to nonfiction sports books, or especially documentaries. Only instead of just banal interviews and highlight reels, a real film offers the opportunity to see the characters interact and events play out, while giving us close-up kinetic racing scenes way more exciting than what TV cameras catch. It also allows for something these other mediums never seem to quite accomplish: getting to the heart of what makes a rivalry, not just waxing nostalgic about its big moments.

The rivalry in Rush is the real-life one between two Formula One drivers: the death-defying, hard-partying Englishman James Hunt (Chris Hemsworth), and the more calculating, less amiable Austrian Niki Lauda (Daniel Brühl). The film shows their rapport beginning in the early 1970s during a race in the lower level Formula Three. But the majority of the picture follows the 1976 F1 season, where Lauda was the reigning champion, and Hunt started down on his luck and desperate for a team to even sponsor him.

What was the basis for their rivalry? Well, there’s the typical sense of competition between high-level performers, and their differences in personality. But the movie also strongly hints at their different approach to driving: Lauda is much more calculating and conservative, while Hunt is willing to make risky moves in a race to get ahead. For much of the time, it seems like their rivalry is one of hate, an unhealthy obsession. But when a terrible accident befalls one of them, it becomes clear that both view the other with a mutual admiration and respect, even kinship. And in this, the movie understands exactly why rivalries are such an important part of sports. For the fans, they may just be about hate, but for the people behind the wheel—or on the field, or on the court, or competing in anything, really—it’s an extra boost to always go a little farther, and do a little better. 

The performances of Brühl and Hemsworth reflect this, as they both really capture the ultracompetitive mindset of high-level athletes, one of the only times I’ve seen actors in a movie do so. Their egos are not hindrances to teach us about humility and sportsmanship like in so many sports movies; rather, it’s this very fire that fuels them. Because of that fire, they aren’t always very likeable characters. One thing they have in common is that their obsession with victory alienates the women in their lives (Alexandra Maria Lara and Olivia Wilde, both good but a little pressed for screen time, like the rest of the supporting cast). But we, the viewers, can feel the fire, and we find ourselves not rooting for one or the other, but both.

There are some little subtle touches about the world of racing, as well as the role of athletes as media darlings versus their real selves. But everything else aside, the narrative is a small, focused one on the dynamic between two people locked in each other’s sights. Though it takes place in the 70s, the picture doesn’t spend a lot of time on the nostalgic aesthetic, so it doesn’t seem frozen in its time period. And even if you’re not a fan of racing (I’m not), or really sports in general, this is an exciting, compelling, and often funny work of entertainment.

South Park, "Let Go, Let Gov"

It’s been nearly 11 months since the last episode of South Park, the longest gap between seasons in the show’s history. Understandable, since Trey Parker and Matt Stone are busy guys with a hit Broadway show traveling the globe, but still too long for this fan. It seemed like a lot of news and pop culture events that were tailor-made for the show to destroy happened specifically in its absence, though it might have only appeared that way because there was no spring half of a two-part season we were used to.

Now, we finally get a shorter, unbroken season of 10 episodes (which really seems more like an extended fall half), and this season premiere dives right in to a big thing that happened while the show was gone: the revelations about the NSA. The episode has many of the show’s trademarks: satire both direct and subtle, surreal plot turns, stinging, almost mean shots at celebrities (Alec Baldwin is in Stone and Parker’s sights once more, as the episode hilariously spoofs the actor's recent propensity for doing commercials and making homophobic remarks), and the classic reversal the show employs to make a point about how the other side sees things (or just for the hell of it).

That reversal has the adorably innocent and oblivious Butters, warned by Cartman that the government can see and hear everything he does, making the omnipresent watcher his new religion, and sets up the local DMV as his house of worship. The premise itself may not have been as funny as other uses of this tactic (and it’s not as much a reversal as, say, “Red Man’s Greed” was), but it resulted in a lot of funny moments. One had Butters awkwardly confessing his naughty and slightly disturbing sins to a confused DMV clerk (followed by a similar darker moment from the seldom seen Officer Barbrady). Another was the very last moment in the episode, an absolute sucker punch that had me in stitches.

As for the other storyline, Cartman tries to play Edward Snowden, getting a job at the NSA and sharing its secrets online. But I should point out that almost always, Cartman takes the immoral, less defensible side of any issue the show tackles. And yet, here he’s put on the side of a man that some have hailed as a hero. Indeed, the show treads very lightly on the NSA, with little in the way of criticism save for a Team America-esque parody of tough-talking Hollywood monologues justifying extreme measures. Instead, the target is the average citizen who shares everything on social media (signified again by Cartman as the most obnoxious smartphone user ever) and then attacks the government for peeking into their life. The point is made, but at the near expense of humor.

For that reason, this isn’t quite one of the show’s hysterical classics. But I did laugh, sometimes lightly, sometimes heartily. There’s nothing like this show’s outlook, its humor, or its willingness to go there, as they say, and rebut the public consensus. It’s good to have it back.

Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., "Pilot"

As much as I love comic books and the film products they inspire, my viewership of non-animated superhero television prior to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was limited to a few reruns of the 1960s Batman and Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman, and a single episode of Smallville. Furthermore, last night’s premiere was the very first show created by Joss Whedon I ever watched (cue shock and dismay from fans of Buffy and Firefly). So in reviewing the episode, I get a bit of an advantage in being able to critique it solely on its own merits, rather than just measuring it against those other works intentionally or instinctively. 

By those merits, the program is pretty average. I realize it’s a pilot, and therefore the tone and direction of the show could change in subsequent episodes. But last night’s entry followed the formula of a genre of which I’m not very fond: the police procedural. Maybe I’m just spoiled by the age of shows with ongoing plotlines, but the new-case-each-week formula doesn’t keep my interest. Just an hour or less isn’t enough time for a story to get very compelling, especially when it’s always conveniently resolved at the end. 

Being in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the methods the characters use are a little less scientific than typical police work, their equipment more sci-fi than what most cops have at their disposal. Still, every one slides right into the typical procedural roles. Clark Gregg’s Agent Phil Coulson, whose apparent death in The Avengers is revealed to have been averted (I’m not spoiling anything there because Coulson’s return was revealed in the show’s marketing), is the boss figure. There are two new faces just being introduced to the fray: introverted combat expert Agent Ward (Brett Dalton), and underground hacker Skye (Chloe Bennet) who goes from trying to expose S.H.I.E.L.D. to aiding them. One might assume these two will become the main leads. There are the eccentric personalities that work more in the safety of the station (or classified headquarters in this case) instead of the field in Fitz (Iain De Caestecker) and Simmons (Elizabeth Henstridge). And there’s Ming-Na Wen, who gets the least amount of lines or screen time, but best I could tell fills the archetype of the veteran who wants to slow down but reluctantly gets forced back into action. Oh, and this week’s case involves a laid off factory worker (J. August Richards) who has super strength, but can’t seem to control his temper.

Aside from the problems with procedural story execution I’ve already discussed, the cast seems a little stiff. The only one who really seems comfortable in his role is Gregg, and that’s only because he’s played Coulson since the first Iron Man five years ago. The humor and banter between the characters, one of the most appealing elements of the Marvel films, just falls flat here (the obvious “Fitz-Simmons” pun fails so badly that it would have been appropriate to edit in cricket chirps). But then when the show tries to be serious, it’s almost funny in a self-aware, tongue-in-cheek way. Almost every piece of serious dialogue is of the corny intrigue or pump-up-the-audience variety that fills movie trailers. In this case, literally, as much of the serious dialogue consists of sound bites already shown in the promos. 

But, again, this is the pilot, and pilots themselves are almost like long ads for the rest of the series. Now that the show’s introduced the characters and their roles in the narrative, maybe now the cast will loosen up like Gregg and show a little more spark, and they’ll move on to stronger development and storytelling. The revelation of where Richards obtained his powers (I won’t spoil it, but it continues a plotline that began in Iron Man 3) gave me a little hope in that regard. So did an interlude where an agent recovers an amulet left over from the Chitauri invasion in The Avengers. Both could make for some interesting continuing stories with the potential to cross over into the upcoming Marvel films (maybe we’ll even see cameos by Iron Man or the other Avengers if we’re lucky), or at least form a story thread that will somewhat connect standalone episodes. It's worth giving it at least a couple episodes to find out where these elements are going.

On the downside, the episode’s ending—a blatant ripoff of Back to the Future—is very random and confusing, like something more fitting for a surreal comedy. I’m still not exactly sure how I feel about it, but the feeling isn’t a positive one. 

Breaking Bad, "Granite State"

**SPOILERS HEREIN!**

I wasn’t a huge fan of this episode. I guess I should have known it probably wouldn’t measure up to last week’s (I mean, how do you follow up arguably the most intense episode of the whole series?), but I didn’t expect to be disappointed.

It’s not because this one was more about setting up every loose end for the final episode than advancing the story, at least for every character besides Walt (Bryan Cranston). I understand they want to make the finale memorable, and they’re setting up all the pins to be knocked down next week. So we only see enough of Skyler (Anna Gunn), Jesse (Aaron Paul), Walter Jr. (RJ Mitte), Marie (Betsy Brandt), Saul (Bob Odenkirk), and the Nazis to know where they stand (except for Saul; don’t know where he went), but none of their stories move forward much (though I have a small possible theory about Skyler that I’ll get to later). And no, I’m not overlooking the death of Andrea (Emily Rios). It’s a devastating scene, all the more so because it’s so quick, quiet, and inconsequential, but the whole point of this plot turn is to cement the fact that Jesse’s at the absolute mercy of Todd (Jesse Plemons) and the Nazis.

I don't have a problem with any of this. What I didn’t like was the route the story takes with Walt.

I loved his first scene, in the basement of Saul’s “vacuum guy” (Robert Forster), coughing up a storm while planning some endgame that in no way sounds feasible. It’s a great moment of Cranston channeling raw desperation and arrogance, the only shreds of his psyche left in the wake of last episode’s epic breakdown. I love how they directly referenced the exchange between him and Saul at the very start of the season (the first half). Then, Walt easily intimidated Saul. Now, exposed, on the run, and dying, Walt is not intimidating at all for the first time in a long time. Saul fearlessly talks him down, instead of warily offering advice without pressing too hard as usual.

After that, and after relocating to rural New Hampshire (whose nickname is the episode’s title), Walt seems more resigned to a fate of withering away alone in the wilderness. And the depiction of his lonely, empty last days almost strikes a tone of sympathy, like we’re supposed to feel sorry for him. And that’s what I hate about the episode.

Walt long ago ceased to be a morally grey antihero who’s cooking meth with noble intentions. As shocking and horrifying as it was, the reason I think last week’s knife-wielding breakup of the White family was so great is because it was a hard, brutal fall completely befitting Walt’s horrible deeds. Now, the show wants to return to the early moral ambiguity and have us empathize with Walt. I can’t do that. Walter Jr. (now going by “Flynn” again) rebuking his father’s last attempt to do right over the phone was my favorite scene because it put my feelings—that Walt’s done too much evil to ever make up for—into words.

Well, maybe second favorite. My favorite might be the final scene, which pulls out an old card I never would have expected: the Schwartzes (Adam Godley and Jessica Hecht). In a dive bar near his new home, Walt sees his billionaire former colleagues on TV talking to Charlie Rose about him, and minimizing his role in founding their company. And then, from underneath that bushy beard, Heisenberg starts to seethe through as the ominous theme music starts playing.

After last week’s events, I thought the machine gun we know Walt’s packing was meant for the Nazis (though part of me felt that would be a little too obvious). Now, I’m not so sure. Maybe Walt’s gunning for the Schwartzes; having brought everyone else in his life down with him, he can’t let them stay standing. Or maybe that’s too obvious, too, and he has something else planned entirely.

Whatever his intent, Walt leaving the bar (presumably heading back to Albuquerque) was the last pin. And though I didn’t like how the episode practically begged a little more sympathy toward Walt out of us, all those pins going up more than sufficiently readies viewers for the final episode.

Before then, though, I’ll point out one thing regarding Skyler, specifically the scene where she’s being interrogated by the feds. The way it shows her spacing out as she’s being briefed on her situation, with a mild din drowning out the words spoken her way, was very similar to the scene in the series’ first episode where Walt is told he has cancer. Not sure if this means anything, but remember Walt took an extreme measure after learning of his illness. Perhaps even though Skyler looks licked, she’ll too try something drastic to escape her predicament.


Emmy News:
The first half of this season received eight Emmy nominations, and the Ceremony was held as this episode aired. The show won two awards: Best Drama Series, and Best Supporting Actress in a Drama for Anna Gunn. Congratulations to Ms. Gunn and the show for the well-deserved accolades. And for all the Skyler White haters out there, here's a little something for you.

Breaking Bad, "Ozymandias"

**SPOILERS HEREIN!**

I’m almost at a loss for words at this one.

Through re-watching this show and writing about it, I’ve tried to really analyze Walt’s (Bryan Cranston) actions and state of mind each episode. Every time, I’ve been able to hypothesize something, even if what came next would kind of prove me wrong.

Not tonight. This time, I had absolutely no idea why Walt was doing what he’s doing. The way Hank’s (Dean Norris) death shocked his system, I’m not even sure he knows why.

Like admitting to Jesse (Aaron Paul) just before the Nazis imprison him that he let Jane die in season two. I can’t tell if this is a sorrowful confession or an angry spite. His face is a serene balance of rage and sadness that could suggest either or both…or neither.

Even harder to decipher was his hateful tirade to Skyler (Anna Gunn) on the phone. Were these his real feelings that he harbored all series finally coming out? Was this just an angry babbling rant from a mind unraveling? Was it all a calculated lie, a ruse to make any other listeners think that Skyler wasn’t in as deep as she was (a stretch, but Walt’s tears and his reconsideration of abducting Holly raise that possibility)? There’s only one thing I saw in it for sure: the venom Walt spews is a finger in the eye of all the Skyler White haters, to make it crystal clear that, no, her refusing to go along with her husband’s dirty deeds does not make her the bad guy.

This scene was preceded by one of the greatest moments in the series: Walt packing frantically, about to take his family into hiding, only for them to not comply, and the resulting scuffle ending with Walt on one side and his wife and son (RJ Mitte, whose Walter Jr. finally learns the truth) on the other. In this moment he loses his family, his whole motivation and the only reason he has to live. This Ozymandian fall (perfect title, by the way) was hard, painful, and harrowing to see. And it was just beautiful. The knife fight that preceded it? A little too soap opera, but I’ll forgive that. Unfortunately, this moment is (almost) too fleeting to be very satisfying because of Walt’s actions afterward.

On the same note, Hank’s death scene allowed him a moment of honor before the fatal bullet. He may not have died standing up because of a shot to the leg sustained in last week’s closing shootout, but his integrity proved more bulletproof than his body. As Hank became a richer character as the show went on, I lamented the idea that he might become compromised just like his in-laws. I’m glad that that never happened, but his death brings me no satisfaction. Even though it’s the catalyst for Walt’s life to come crashing down, still none.

Indeed, this was a painful episode, offering big moments but no good feelings about them, just despair. But it’s written and shot as expertly as the show has ever been, acted perfectly in every role. Best of the season? Well, I said the same last week, only for this one to top it, so I’ll wait to see the last two before I’ll bestow that title. But I don’t need to wait to say that this ranks as one of the best of the entire show.

Oh, and I almost forgot about the pre-credits scene, as everything that came after kind of overshadowed it. But it was a very good one, not just because the flashback—to Walt and Jesse’s earliest cooking days in the RV, with Walt making a loving call to Skyler—contrasts so starkly with the later plot, but also the aesthetic choice to have the past fade out and the present fade in on the same landscape. Cool to see, and very fitting with the “fade away” theme suggested by the title. But the title screen and a commercial break interrupt the flow a little too caustically. I’d imagine it will look perfectly on DVD, though, as one unbroken shot.  

Breaking Bad, "To'hajiilee"

**SPOILERS HEREIN!**

One thing about starting the show late in its run was that through the first four seasons, I could watch as many episodes at a time as I wanted. That was a good thing, too, because I couldn’t imagine having to wait to find out stuff like, say, whether or not Hank (Dean Norris) survived the hit by the Salamanca Cousins (and many other plot turns).

Now, I finally know how that feels. And it’s just torture.

After a few episodes of nothing but buildup, finally we get some payoff in an ever-growing Mexican standoff that explodes into Heat-like chaos in the desert. Yet, while the shootout was definitely something big, the results of the finale are still held from us. I’m struggling to name another episode of this show or any other that offered such a feeling of satisfaction, while at the same time, fury from lack of closure. I mean, couldn’t there have been just another fraction of a minute to show who got hit? NO!

Leading into the shootout on the eponymous Indian reservation, the episode was a masterful construction of plotting, utilizing seemingly every remaining thread of the show’s mythology to make us just wonder how they’re going to come in to play. Or even if they’ll come into play. Like Andrea (Emily Rios) and Brock (Ian Posada), whose reappearance got me thinking they were about to enter the crossfire, and that Walt (Bryan Cranston) had reached the point of not batting an eye about risking innocents to get the job done. I can’t say for sure about Walt in that capacity, but the Cantillos turned out to be a brilliantly used red herring, completely separated from the mayhem. Other parties that were involved—like Hank, Gomez (Steven Michael Quezada), and Jesse (Aaron Paul), the neo-Nazis, and of course Walt—had me wondering just as much.

This one will be remembered for the big shootout, but I think the second most notable moment came just before, when Walt, cornered in the desert, just stares off-screen. His face looks like he’s in several states of mind all at once: acceptance, rage, sadness (I thought I saw the start of a tear)…and the full Heisenberg. It looked to me a little like a less chaotic (and much less haunting) repeat of his sanity snapping in the crawl space, like Heisenberg was about to take over. I thought for sure that Walt would cross his last line and kill a family member.

Except he didn’t. He just surrendered. As he was excruciatingly getting cuffed, I kept thinking he must have some ace in the whole that 's going to take out Hank. But he just let himself get taken in. And when the Nazis show up, he tries his best to ward them off while subdued in the car (to no avail).

What does this mean? For one, my prediction from last week about him targeting Hank was flat-out wrong (which was revealed before the opening titles). But also, Walt might actually be trying to atone, as much as he can, anyway. I mean, he freely admits that he doesn’t have much time left on Earth because of his resurgent cancer. Maybe in his twisted mind, providing for and not going after his family is good enough to save his soul. And because of this prospect, I’m torn on whether or not I want Hank and Jesse to survive. On one hand, I kind of hope they both make it, Hank because he’s one of the few uncompromised characters left, and Jesse because he’s a generally decent soul who’s been manipulated by Walt, and at least more capable of redemption. On the other hand, after all Walt’s done, I’d be very satisfied to see him denied the only salvation in his mind.

Whichever happens, I hate having to wait to see it. But then, this type of anger, that which stems from having to wait to find out what happens, is sort of a measure of how good a program is. Judging by what I feel right now, I’d say this episode was the best so far this season.

Riddick

Riddick is the third film in a trilogy featuring Vin Diesel’s eponymous intergalactic antihero with the night vision eyes. The first in the trilogy, Pitch Black, was a good little piece of sci-fi horror. The Chronicles of Riddick—the bombastic sequel that looked like Roman sword-and-sandal epics, medieval fantasy, the Star Wars prequels, and countless other better sci-fi puked in a bucket—was not. It's one of those movies where you wonder just how anyone could have thought this would be a good idea, let alone warrant a sequel. But apparently there was enough of a following for Diesel to mortgage his house to fund a third entry (seriously). Seems fitting that such a film would come after Labor Day’s unofficial cap on the summer movie season.

This one finds Richard B. Riddick alone on a desolate planet, having been left for dead by the Necromongers he conquered in the last movie. For a while, it plays like a space version of a standard castaway story (one of many elements of the picture that’s been done), as he lives off the land, battling all sorts of creatures and befriending a space coyote (no, not The Simpsons kind). But after a while, he finds and sets off a beacon that attracts two teams of mercenaries: one led by a man (Matthew Nable) seeking to tie up loose ends with Riddick, and another less competent gang looking to claim the bounty on his head. Predictably, they underestimate the man they’re hunting, and become the hunted themselves.

Yeah, pretty dopey, and very much derivative of other movies. The second half is basically the same story as the first Rambo movie, just on a different planet. And in addition to the one I already pointed out, the plot borrows liberally from too many sci-fi stories to list them all. Even the finale seems to recycle the creature action of Pitch Black. And yet, I can’t really fault the film for any of this. There were a lot of reasons Chronicles was bad, but the biggest was that it took every one of its idiotic, ripped-off components seriously. This, on the contrary, knows it’s nothing more than a B-movie, and has a good time accordingly.

Riddick is supposedly a notorious figure in this universe, a legend only spoken of in whispers, but you never quite get that feeling from Diesel. He doesn’t come off as very evil, just overly cynical and apathetic, so much so that he’s laughable. To give us an idea of what makes him dangerous, the series features several moments where he silently, stealthily appears and disappears, stealing or sabotaging things without the other characters even noticing when he’s right behind them. This worked in Pitch Black to make him scary before eventually putting him in the heroic role, but in Chronicles (where his heroism was never in doubt), it got old fast. Apparently, the filmmakers realized both had overstayed their welcome, because Riddick instead utilizes these for comic effect. Every line of nihilistic narration and inane dialogue, from Diesel and the rest of the cast, sounds intentionally written to be so bad it’s funny, rather than trying to sound dramatic and dropping like a brick. And Riddick’s skills are used less to establish his badass credentials than to just mess with his hunters. Both, quite amusing. As for the mercenaries, most of their screen time consists of arguing with each other or getting hurt or killed in funny ways. But this also looks intentional, like the villains cast (featuring good players like Battlestar Galactica’s Katee Sackhoff, former wrestler Dave Bautista, and Jordi Mollà) is aiming for comedy instead of real menace. It’s almost becomes sitcom-ish, but the special effects and fight sequences (nothing outstanding but decently thrilling) undercut it enough so things don’t get too goofy.

This is as dumb as any of the bigger blockbusters we saw this summer, but it knows it and embraces it instead of pretending like it’s anything more. And it’s probably more entertaining than most of them for that.

Lee Daniels' the Butler

Lee Daniels’ The Butler is a movie that tries to cover a lot of ground in just over two hours, and doesn’t quite thoroughly succeed. But to say it “bit off more than it could chew” doesn’t seem apt because everything in it is done quite well, even if some parts seem more complete than others. More accurately, you could say it doesn’t live up to its full potential. But since its potential is so high—and I’d argue that a movie trying to explore history, politics, race, and family drama all at once has a lot of it—even not quite fulfilling all of it still results in a strong motion picture.

The story is inspired by the life of the late Eugene Allen, who served in the White House as a butler from 1952 to 1986. The film changes his name to Cecil Gaines (played Forest Whitaker), and depicts his tenure as slightly shorter, serving the administrations from Dwight D. Eisenhower (Robin Williams) to Ronald Reagan (Alan Rickman). From there, it heads in a direction more fiction than fact (save for the movie’s later moments depicting Gaines as an enthusiastic supporter of Barack Obama in 2008). This happens in a lot of ways, but most obviously, it gives him a son (David Oyelowo) who experiences many major civil rights moments directly, such as sit-ins at white-only cafes, the Freedom Riders, the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. (Nelsan Ellis), the Black Panthers, and the anti-Apartheid movement of the 1980s.

Despite the underlying disbelief that so many historical moments and figures could be so indirectly-yet-closely connected, the fictional stuff is actually the compelling heart of the picture. The civil rights content is PG-13 unflinching. And yet, it’s the unspoken conflict that’s more potent. Throughout, Gaines is the receiver of both outright racism from white employers and more subtle scorn from both blacks and whites. Some is from his own son, as Oyelowo holds him in contempt for being a butler, a servant of the white world. But Whittaker gives the character a quiet dignity and pride that’s rock solid. Even though he’s, as the picture puts it, “invisible” and never reacts to such disrespect, he exudes an aura of strength, that he’s not lying down and taking it lightly. This also makes the father-son dynamic quite powerful, as the rift between the two is palpable instead of melodramatic, their reconciliation more emotional than sensational. Both men are excellent in their roles, whether together or apart onscreen. And though Cecil’s slower to adapt to changing racial issues than the world around him (less out of just acceptance than fear for his family’s safety, especially his son’s), he does come around. When that happens, it’s almost a cheer-worthy moment.

That by itself is a great movie. It could have been about any butler in the same time period and still worked. But by making Gaines the butler for seven Presidents, the movie also has the opportunity to present the more distant Executive Branch view of the aforementioned history-making moments. Sometimes it does. Other times, the scenes in the White House are only anecdotes, from the historical (Gaines consoling Minka Kelly’s Jackie Kennedy after her husband’s assassination) to the mundane (a humorous scene of Liev Schreiber as Lyndon Johnson barking orders while on the toilet). Aside from John Cusack (who doesn’t even passably look like Richard Nixon), the portrayals of Presidents and First Ladies range from adequate to really good. But these scenes are too slight and inconsistent in tone to really form an equal contrast with the ground-level depiction of the civil rights movement. Well done though they may be, they seem more like a sideshow to the story of Gaines and his relationship with his son.

The non-historical supporting roles, which get more time than the Presidential ones, are wonderful. As Whittaker’s coworkers, Lenny Kravitz and Cuba Gooding, Jr. add comic relief, but also some human touches and outside commentary on the issues depicted. And Oprah brings grace and authority to the role of Mrs. Gaines. Yet at the same time, her character seemed underdeveloped; her strength is never in question, but her weaknesses are too understated. She battles a drinking problem and has an affair, but the film covers this so sparsely you could miss it (I actually did miss the affair part, and didn’t know until I read a synopsis). Another who could have used some more development is the Gaines’ other son played by Elijah Kelley. He’s barely integral to the story until suffering a tragedy late in the picture, one that not only contradicts real history but just seems like a superfluous misfortune in addition to everything else in the story. 

But despite what could have been better, not a single part of The Butler is bad. Sometimes, most of the time, it’s a great picture.

Breaking Bad, "Rabid Dog"

**SPOILERS HEREIN!**

This wasn’t an episode. It was two distinct pieces edited together into a whole.

One of those parts was the end of last episode, in which we find that Jesse (Aaron Paul) was talked out of torching the White residence and agrees to help Hank (Dean Norris). But putting it later in this one was an ingenious move. I mean, how tense was the pre-credits scene where Walt (Bryan Cranston) slowly infiltrates his gasoline-soaked house, gun drawn, only to find it empty? It wouldn’t have been if we already knew Jesse was gone.

The other was an extended teaser. Or rather, it was like a few of those “minisodes”—which collectively tell a light narrative but act more as teasers instead of revealing much—edited together. The whole story sequence of Hank getting Jesse to wear a wire was a build-up to a non-event, just hints about what’s to come. But they were some juicy hints to ponder.

I don’t know what Jesse’s plan of action is, but with Walt calling Todd (Jesse Plemons) about another job for his uncle, I got a pretty good guess what he’s got planned. Only…I don’t think Jesse’s the target. How can he be? Walt doesn’t know where he is at the moment.

I think it’s Hank. Or maybe even Marie (Betsy Brandt). In Walt’s view (I’m guessing), killing within his own family won’t just end Hank’s investigation, but be an effective enough warning to scare Jesse and anyone else off. True, Walt’s avoided doing anything bad to his family up to this point…but getting the okay from Skyler (Anna Gunn) to commit murder—even backhandedly, and even though she meant Jesse—might be all the push he needs to cross that line.

Of all the things that happened in this one, that scene was my favorite. Skyler’s stand against her husband in the first half of this season didn’t hold up, and she’s once again sliding down the same slippery slope Walt did all series. On the bad meter, I’d say approving of killing, albeit reluctantly to keep her family safe, puts her somewhere between Walt letting Jane die in her sleep and Walt running over Gus’ two dealers. I’m not sure there’s enough time left in the show for her to become the Bride of Heisenberg (which is to say, sink as low as Walt), but we’ll see.

This wasn’t an episode. But it was damn good television.

P.S. I no longer think the neo-Nazis are going to be an antagonist for Walt. With Walt calling Todd, my guess is that what we’ve seen of them so far this half-season were expository scenes to remind us they’re still in the picture, and possibly show us how bloody things are going to get. If I'm right about that, once again I've underestimated just how bad Walt can break.


Update (09/02/13, 5:32 PM): After sleeping on it, and thinking about it some more, I've changed my mind about this episode. I'm standing by my assessment of the neo-Nazis and my prediction that Hank, not Jesse, will be Walt's target. But I'm reassessing my declaration that this episode was great television.

Going back to what I said about Hank stopping Jesse from burning the house down figuratively being the end of last episode, imagine if that scene had actually been tacked onto last week's closing scene instead of included here. Now, imagine if the last minute of so of this week's entry—Jesse telling Hank there's another way to get Walt, and Walt calling Todd for a job—weren't in the episode proper, but were instead the teaser for next week's (for me, it's not too hard to imagine). With these moments gone, what does that leave us with?

Not much. Yes, there's Skyler's great scene, and Walt's gas pump story made me laugh a little at its lame desperation. But other than that, it was a all a buildup to a potentially big moment, only for it to not happen at the last second. When you look at it this way, the placement of the scene with Jesse and Hank in the gas-soaked living room wasn't "ingenious," as I said previously; it was the only logical placement for this series of events to carry any tension.

I guess I should commend the show for building enough tension for my immediate reaction to be positive, but looking back, it's disappointing that so little happened. Last week's episode didn't resolve any plotlines, either, but it had some very good moments that further intensified Walt's battles of wills with both Jesse and Hank. And I was already plenty pumped for things to happen after last week, so just being toyed with again seems like a cheap shot.

This might have worked better as a series of minisodes, which are most often primers for the next episode that aren't necessary to the overall storyline. But being presented as a regular episode, especially in a series as good as this one, it was not up to snuff.