Breaking Bad re-watch: Season 1, Episode 2: “Cat’s in the Bag…”

Picking up right where the pilot left off, this one finds Walt (Bryan Cranston) and Jesse (Aaron Paul) attempting to clean up the mess they made by disposing of the bodies of two drug dealers. Just one problem: one of them is still alive.

At this point, both are still very out of their element. Walt is very new to the drug world, and while Jesse may know his way around a little better, he’s hardly a hardened killer used to dealing with dead bodies. Their ineptitude while deciding what to do with their victims is darkly comedic, like a very sick and vile take on the old sitcom odd-couple trope. Their bickering against their morbid circumstances makes for fun black humor, with the final scene—what’s left of one victim dissolved in acid eating through a bathtub down to the next floor—standing out as one of the funniest and most unexpected moments on the show, one that’s still very funny even when you know it's coming.

One of the most compelling elements of the series is the dynamic between Walt and Jesse. The two have stuck together for the duration of the series, and yet their relationship always seems like a flimsy one. It’s more of an alliance of convenience for Walt: He works with Jesse because he needs him, and would break away from him if given the chance. Here, they hate each other, but are forced to work together because of their predicament. This kind of sets the tone for their partnership for the rest of the series. There may be some flashes of camaraderie between the two, but relationship is never more than a fight away from straining, and yet too symbiotic to completely end.

The episode also depicts a first for Walt: lying. Specifically, lying to his wife Skyler (Anna Gunn), that he’s reconnecting with Jesse for pot (not completely untrue; he does smoke some of Jesse’s stash). This won’t be the last time, but this first lie seems a little different from the ones coming. This time, the lie seems to convey a sense of shame on Walt’s part, like he’s trying to protect his family in case he’s caught instead of simply covering his own ass. As the series goes on, though, the lies will be progressively more for the latter’s sake than the former.

Breaking Bad re-watch: Season 1, Episode 1: "Pilot"

After four-and-a-half seasons of watching Walter White fall deeper and deeper into the abyss, it’s hard to remember a time when he was ever anything but bad. So viewing this episode again is amusing, to say the least.

Much has been made of how Bryan Cranston’s other claim to fame is Hal, the meek, dim-witted father in Malcolm in the Middle, but this actually works in the show’s favor. Indeed, the very first scene in the series, with Walt driving an old RV filled with chemicals and passed out people while clad in only his undies and a gas mask, looks a little like the ending to a particularly dark Malcolm plotline. It's not played for laughs this time, but he is just as meek, so lost amongst even the small-time hoods in this episode. That he’ll eventually reach the top of the meth underworld, and that we the viewers will take him seriously as such, is a testament to how good an actor Cranston is.

But that’s for later. Right now, he’s not Heisenberg, just Mr. White, the unremarkable chemistry teacher whose unremarkable life is dealt a big blow when he learns he has lung cancer. The pilot reminds us the impetus for his illegal doings wasn’t exactly repressed criminal ambition, but him giving up his sense of restraint in the wake of his diagnosis. Not giving a damn because his days are numbered led him to do things people don’t do in polite society, like telling off his boss at the car wash where he works after school, or beating on some teens for mocking Walter, Jr. (RJ Mitte). Getting into the drug business was another one, one that happened by sheer chance after coming across his old student Jesse (Aaron Paul); had their paths not crossed, Walt might have done something else entirely while throwing caution to the wind.

This is a pilot episode, so naturally some things aren’t fleshed out yet. Walt is the main focus of the narrative, while the rest of the White family and Jesse are yet to be really developed. But the episode establishes the structure of the show, with the ambiguous pre-credits scene that only becomes clear later in the story, and the ending that brings things to a logical stopping point but in no way resolves anything, leaving us impatiently awaiting the next episode (that’s the only real consistent structure of the show; what happens in between in each episode is unpredictable).

There is also one low point that the show would thankfully never sink to again: the bedroom scene in which Skyler (Anna Gunn) multitasks by giving Walt a “birthday present” under the covers with one hand while surfing the web with the other. Ostensibly, this is meant to show how Walt’s home life has become routine and unexciting, in contrast to the passionate sex scene at the episode’s end. It gets the point across, but it’s done in a very tired and unfunny way that’s below this series. And we already get the point from the scenes of Walt at breakfast and at work, anyway. Some versions of the pilot (including that on Netflix streaming) remove this scene, and this is one instance where the shorter version is actually better.

Breaking Bad re-watch

The final half-season of AMC’s Breaking Bad will begin airing two months from tomorrow. What the eight remaining episodes hold in store for Walter White is anyone's guess. Personally, even with all the big movies this summer, I'm more excited for the show to return than anything arriving in theaters in the coming months.

Until then, I'll be revisiting the series up to this point, episode by episode. Starting tomorrow, stay tuned for a post roughly each day (one episode per day leaves a few left over), leading up to the premiere on August 11.

A little warning: As the point of this re-watch is to go back and revisit each episode, this series of posts will be aimed at those who have already seen the series, rather than new viewers. So in advance, there will most definitely be spoilers.

Fast & Furious 6

People often decry the overflow of sequels Hollywood offers up every time a movie’s a hit. And yet, Fast & Furious 6 brings the franchise past the point where most series would either end or be relegated to direct-to-video, and it’s getting pretty good reviews (as did its predecessor). Maybe at this point, critics just said “Screw it!” and abandoned their blockbuster snobbery to just enjoy the ride instead. Or maybe it’s because this series knows how to make a sequel right. That’s a good possibility. When you’re still going strong after six movies, you know you’ve got something that works.

After five movies of vehicular destruction, 6 finds street racers-turned-international thieves Dominic Toretto (Vin Diesel) and Brian O’Conner (Paul Walker) retired and settled down to a peaceful life in exile from the U.S. They are pulled back into the world of (literal) highway robbery after being approached by DSS agent Luke Hobbs (Dwayne Johnson), the antagonist from Fast Five, for help in catching another high speed heist crew headed by the evil Owen Shaw (Luke Evans). Dom and Brian reassemble all the series regulars to aid in Shaw’s capture, not only to receive pardons for all their past crimes, but also because of one member of Shaw’s team: Letty Ortiz (Michelle Rodriguez), their former ally who supposedly died in the fourth film.

Plot or character development aren’t exactly the first things that come to mind with a movie like this, but the film does actually wrap up, or at least reference, some overreaching plotlines in the series. Having only seen the first and fifth installments, some of these were lost on me. But the film does an adequate enough job of filling viewers who haven’t followed the series closely in on the necessary plot points. And really, it’s not that hard to get the gist of it anyway, because all the cars are the real stars of the picture.

Actually, I shouldn’t say that, because the human cast is very good. Diesel brings a strong presence and deep-voiced, laconic charisma. The way he’s carried this series, it makes you wonder why he isn’t a leading man more often. Johnson, having first gained fame as wrestler The Rock, is a perfect action hero. Not only does he look the part with his physique, he also routinely showed on the mic in WWE that he can be very funny. He’s a little more subdued here, but he still plays off everyone around him very well. Much more of the comic relief comes from supporting players Sung Kang, Tyrese Gibson, and Chris Bridges (better known as rapper Ludacris).

But the vehicles are the major selling point of the movie (I should have said they aren’t the only stars). The expensive cars make for pleasing eye candy, whether in park or at high speed. But the series has moved on from just street races to bigger and better action sequences, so a tank and even a cargo jet come into play (the finale rivals the end of Die Hard 2 for the longest runway ever shown on film). Ridiculous? Over the top? Antithetical to the laws of physics, gravity, or endurance of the human body? Yeses all around. And too much fun to care. It’s not quite as all-out crazy fun as Fast Five was two years ago, but it’s pretty close.

I wasn’t a fan of the first entry, 2001’s The Fast and the Furious (too much talk about cars and not enough chases and explosions for my then-eleven-year-old tastes). But somewhere along the way, the series found just the right formula of fast cars, explosions, and humor (not to mention some PG-level sex appeal for the teens and preteens in the audience) that even after a growing number of movies (and the film sets up a seventh installment, coming out next year), it  remains highly enjoyable. It’s like the Lethal Weapon series of the 21^st Century.

The Hangover Part III

Ever seen Caddyshack II? Maybe not (I haven’t either), but you might have heard about its legacy. It’s basically the go-to title when talking about classic comedy films that are followed up by an awful sequel viewers wish to forget (it’s far from the only such sequel out there, but it’s the one a lot of people point to for some reason). The Hangover suffered from this syndrome, as the hysterical first film was followed by a sequel that was just a rehash of its predecessor without the laughs. But  in this case, that wasn't enough to avoid Part III.

To the film’s credit, rather than just playing out the exact same amnesiac, piece-together-events premise in a different location like Part II, the story at least changes things up. Two years after their trip to Thailand, the so-called “Wolfpack" consisting of dentist Stu (Ed Helms), playboy Phil (Bradley Cooper), and the socially inept Alan (Zach Galifianakis) are ambushed while taking Alan to a psychiatric facility in Arizona. Their friend Doug (Justin Bartha), the M.I.A. groom from the first film, is kidnapped by crime boss Marshall (John Goodman), who gives the others three days to find the flamboyantly psychotic Chinese gangster and their sometimes-companion Chow (Ken Jeong), who apparently stole millions in gold. Their journey takes them to Tijuana and back to Vegas, where the events of the first film went down.

Despite this ridiculous story, and everything else the picture has going against it, it surprisingly almost works. The film plays like a z-grade caper film much of the time, but seeing these comedic characters clumsily wade through drama and thriller waters is rather amusing, at least for a little bit. There are also some truly funny parts, which puts it well above Part II. Unfortunately, some of the better gags were already given away in the trailers, or at least set up for a raunchier onscreen version (such as the already-revealed giraffe scene, which is admittedly very funny in its R-rated glory). Of the jokes that weren’t given away, some are funny, but at least as many  just seem to be straining to be as vulgar, profane, or random as possible to elicit a reaction, any reaction, from the audience, and the results are more misses than hits.

The jokes alone had me on the fence, but what really pushes the film in the wrong direction is the fact that the main cast just doesn’t have the same enthusiasm. The first Hangover was the breakout film for Cooper, Helms, and Galifianakis, and they played off each others' comedic strengths perfectly. Four years later, the three have moved on to bigger and better things (at least Cooper has), and all three look like they'd rather be doing something else. They just seem bored, exasperated, even hostile toward making yet another installment in this series. It’s like watching a sitcom reunion special where all the cast members really don’t want to be there.

The film also has too much of the supremely unfunny character Chow, and not just because Jeong appears full-frontal yet again in one scene (honestly, whoever thought this would make a good running joke should be blacklisted in Hollywood). Chow was funny enough in his few scenes in the first film, and even those were pushing it. His return in Part II was unnecessary, and he got less tolerable the more he appeared. This time, he’s integral to the plot, so we see him even more. Making him into a main character was a bad idea, as he’s just annoying and obnoxious and never funny. In a way, this hurts the film because the story concerns finding him, but it’s hard to root for the protagonists to do so because that means he gets more screen time. Meanwhile, the talented Goodman is wasted in a role that could have been filled by any extra yelling swear words and brandishing a gun sloppily.

Thankfully, there’s an aura of finality to the movie, so we can move on and let history judge the series. My prediction is that The Hangover will be regarded as one of the greatest comedies of this era. Part II will be forgotten because it’s so subpar, and because Caddyshack II already has the notoriety among bad comedy sequels. Part III isn’t so bad it’ll stand out in history, but it’s not funny enough to be remembered long after it leaves theaters.

Iron Man 3

Aside from The Dark Knight, which is the artistic zenith of comic books on film, my favorite superhero pictures among the glut of them we’ve seen since the beginning of the 21^st century have got be the Iron Man movies. They have all the flashy, explosion-filled action you’d expect from any superhero movie, but what makes them so appealing is Robert Downey, Jr.’s portrayal of Tony Stark. He brought a sharp wit and a mature, worldly disposition to the character much more relatable and appealing than the overly serious brooding heroes that seem to be the norm today. Not only did he get the Marvel Cinematic Universe off on the perfect foot, but he completely stole the show in last year’s crossover event The Avengers.

And yet, I was a little weary going into Iron Man 3. You see, there seems to be a curse on third entries in the superhero genre, as movie number three is often where a series starts to go downhill. This happened in X-Men: The Last Stand. It happened in Spider-Man 3. It happened in Blade: Trinity (though the first two Blade movies weren't great compared to the more recent high quality fare). I liked The Dark Knight Rises, but even it was a step down from its predecessor. If you want to go back even farther, you could argue that Batman Forever and Superman 3 were the points when their respective series took a turn for the worse.

Well, either this was more a coincidence than a curse, or Iron Man 3 is the one that breaks the curse. In any case, this is a third installment done absolutely right. More than that, it’s arguably the best Iron Man, maybe even the best film in the Marvel canon.

It ups the action considerably, offering bigger and better fights and stunt sequences than the preceding Marvel films, with an army of shiny new Iron Men. Quite exciting, but what really makes the movie is the writing. Like every good maker of comic adaptations, writer-director Shane Black, who penned the first two (and two best) entries in the Lethal Weapon series, and co-scribe Drew Pearce mine the source material to great effect. In this case, inspiration is taken from the popular “Extremis” arc.

Extremis is the name given to a man-made virus that gives those infected incredible healing and kinetic powers. The purveyor of this creation is Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce), a competitor who Tony Stark had spurned years before. Around the same time Killian re-emerges before Stark Industries, the U.S. falls under a wave of terror at the hands of the Mandarin (Sir Ben Kingsley), a mysterious figure who hacks the airwaves to taunt America while carrying out deadly attacks that leave no trace. Stark feels the wrath of the Mandarin and ends up presumed dead by the world at large. In actuality left in the middle of nowhere with none of his technological constructs to aid him, Starks sets out to find the Mandarin, as well as investigate a possible link between this enemy and Killian.

But that’s just the plot on the most basic level. In addition to the bad guys, the film has Stark fighting more personal battles. Haunted by his experiences seen in The Avengers, he finds himself unable to sleep and becomes unhealthily entrenched in his work. Not only does this lead to panic attacks, it also puts a strain on his relationship with Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow), the head of Stark Industries and his significant other (the effect on their relationship could have been explored a little more, but what is presented is done well). This element adds more weight to Stark's journey and trials, and Downey aptly shows that underneath all the armor, the character is just as human as the rest of us. This angle, along with a bit more darkness in tone and subject matter, make for a more intense and effecting experience than just pure special effects and fighting would.

Yet at the same time, the movie is funny. Very, very funny. All the witty, snappy dialogue that’s standard in the series is put into overdrive, and there are some moments of pure straight up comedy. And it all works, even among the film’s darker moments. Countless action films satisfy on the humor and pure thrill level, but succeeding in both and in presenting drama of substance isn’t exactly a common feat. Such is a small achievement above and beyond the average action picture.

Best of all, the film finally presents villains worthy of Tony Stark. Yes, casting the British Ben Kingsley as the Chinese Mandarin seems like a pretty laughable idea (about as much as John Wayne playing Genghis Khan), and he does look rather ridiculous early in the film, sermonizing in grainy videos like a B-movie bin Laden. But playing on that preconception, the character takes a turn that is unexpected to say the least, and highly clever (if quite unfaithful to the comics). The best villain, however, is Guy Pearce, who not only matches Iron Man physically, but measures up to Downey much more so on a character level than Jeff Bridges in the first film or Mickey Rourke in the second. And his Extremis-infected henchmen make for more brutal enemies than the robots or Chitauri aliens of films past.

The film brings the story of Tony Stark to a satisfying point, though by no means a final ending that precludes any further films with Downey. Indeed, Marvel has announced that this marks the beginning of the next phase of their film universe, and just as the first Iron Man got things off to a great start, Iron Man 3 kicks off the next batch of movies on the right note, proving that the franchise still has a lot left in the tank. If this is any indication of things to come, I’m looking forward to what Marvel Studios serves up in the future.

42

Today marks the 66^th anniversary of Jackie Robinson’s debut with the Brooklyn Dodgers. The significance of that moment can’t be overstated. While he wasn’t actually the first African-American in the Majors, he still broke through a barrier into an organization that, like many things at the time, only allowed white men, and did so well before the Civil Rights Movement (and a year before the desegregation of the U.S. Military) when Jim Crow and segregation were alive and the norm. I'd say his legacy hasn't dimmed: his number 42 is retired throughout Major League Baseball, except for today when every player wears it (42 makes sure to point out both facts in its closing montage).

The legend and historical importance of Jackie Robinson is so big that it seems to outshine the story of Jackie Robinson the man. 42 gives us a little bit of a look at the man, but is obviously intent on maintaining the legend.

The film depicts the initial signing of Robinson (Chadwick Boseman) in 1945 and his first season with the Dodgers two years later. The narrative consists not of typical sports drama, but of anecdotes. Well-known instances of the verbal and sometimes physical abuse he endured are depicted, as are certain moments when his team stood up for him, such the famous embrace from Pee Wee Reese (Lucas Black). Writer-director Brian Helgeland weaves the anecdotal and authentic into a script that is never too sentimental, always engrossing, and a lot fun at times (he does make sure all the racists meet some little comeuppance, if only from a scripting perspective) and serious when it needs to be.

Credit is due for not sugarcoating the racism. While not nearly on the shocking level of Django Unchained, it’s hardly sanitized, and it’s not tackled ridiculously like in Crash. The film is rated PG-13, and the MPAA made the right decision not to give it an R and thus likely barring a younger segment of the audience from seeing it. The film should be seen by younger viewers to get an idea what racism really is, how hurtful it can be, and how strong the spirits of Robinson and those before and after him had to be to overcome it.

Boseman gives a subdued, stoic performance, embodying the quiet grace and will that epitomizes the Jackie Robinson legend. He doesn’t really delve too much past that, but there are glimpses under his skin. His subtle facial expressions and actions communicate a whole range of emotion and inner turmoil. Robinson may never have retaliated against the abuse he got, but Boseman’s depiction makes it clear that he was human, not superhuman, and it wasn’t easy being targeted because of his race.

Surprisingly, the more lively roles are the people around Boseman. Harrison Ford brings a solid understated authority and some humor as Dodgers general manager Branch Rickey, which works despite the fact that the makeup and accent certainly can’t disguise the fact that it’s Harrison Ford. As Dodgers manager Léo Durocher, Christopher Meloni matches Ford on the humor but contrasts him with a fiery demeanor. And the team surrounding Boseman all back him up well, whether their characters support or reject him onscreen.

The film’s baseball moments are down pat; it’s the parts outside baseball that leave some to be desired. The movie only scratches the surface of the man behind the legend, with only passing references to Robinson’s life outside the game. Nicole Beharie brings some graceful support as his wife Rachel, but even she seems like a secondary character. On the macro level, the film doesn’t quite capture just how important Robinson was. His struggles are depicted vividly, while the inspiration of him enduring them comes off a little too lightly. The lack of these elements doesn’t hurt 42 as whole, but it could have been so much more.

The film also fills almost every archetype of the biopic and sports movie formula. But it overcomes both of them, the former because it’s made with skill and care, and the latter because the story is one of purpose, not faux-inspirational Hollywood schmaltz. And I’ll admit: I’m a baseball fan, so I may be a little more forgiving on this level. But even if you're not, the picture is a respectful and loving tribute to Robinson, told with the reverence of a fable passed down to different generations.