Breaking Bad

Let's get methed up.

In the past month or so I've started watching Breaking Bad, an immensely popular television show on AMC that you likely have already heard of (unless you've been dwelling beneath a boulder as of late). I'm only about halfway into the second season but have started forming some thoughts on the show thus far. There might be some light spoilers ahead, but nothing that should prevent anyone who hasn't watched the show from enjoying it.

The plot is pretty straightforward: high school chemistry teacher Walter White is diagnosed with lung cancer at a relatively severe stage. In order to pay for his expensive treatments and to secure his family's financial future, he takes up cooking and selling meth with the help of an old student of his, Jesse Pinkman. Turns out, Walter is quite the innovative meth maker and shrewd businessman. But in pursuing his newfound source of income he finds himself spinning a web of lies to his pregnant wife and non-pregnant son, fraternizing with increasingly salty characters, and cooking up just as much trouble through getting himself into absurd and often-dangerous schemes as through his infamous batches of methamphetamine. 

I think there are several key ingredients that together make Breaking Bad a rather excellent show, the most prominent being that curious element of death. Death is universal, innate, and in the context of Breaking Bad, introduced right from the first episode (and subsequently present in every episode thereafter). Now we mere mortals have a natural tendency to feel both terrified of and fascinated by death. As such, our understanding that Walter is closer to death than most of us (as far as we know) makes him somehow different. Certainly we feel sympathy for him. But the cancer in his lungs also elevates him somehow. It makes every movement or every word that much more...important? That's not the right word. Final, perhaps then. By watching Walter White we get a glimpse into the mindset of somebody who carries a burden that we do not have. Breaking Bad indulges and lets us fulfill our somewhat morbid enjoyment of what it'd feel like to be closer to straddling that line between life and death.

As a result of our fear of and obsession with death, the desperation and the degradation of Walter White become fascinating to watch. We cheer him on as he quits his side job in a wild fit (haven't we all fantasized about maniacally scrabbling the shit around us and stomping furiously out of a room?). We see him grab his wife and kiss her with igniting passion. We watch him shoot guns and steal shit and kill adversaries and get away with all things bad-ass that completely cross the bounds of his pre-cancer suburban life. It's all just so goddamn exciting because Walt is otherwise such a boring, safe person - just like us - but now he gets to do all this awesome reckless explosion-happy shit because hell, he's gonna kick the bucket soon anyway. This dichotomy of death plays a huge role in the show. Lung cancer, such a boring and invisible force, is the tortoise of death that plods on in the midst of of Walter's hare-like high-action schemes. 

Something else I'm starting to really appreciate about Breaking Bad is the depth of each and every character. In this show nobody is one dimensional and in my opinion Walter is by far the most complex character...as he probably should be. At times I find myself fervently supporting Walter, at others he is just disgusting and hurtful. It's difficult to predict what he'll do or what crazy idea will arise from that bald, ingenious head of his. But it's not only Walter who is complex. Everybody has his or her own vices and redeeming qualities. Even the bad guys are captivating! Take Tuco, for example. He scared the shit out of me. I believed he was wholeheartedly insane for three episodes and every time he raised his voice I'd literally flinch in front of my laptop. But in that scene in the desert when he showed calm and controlled care for his disabled relative, Tuco made the leap from batshit crazy drug lord baddie to well, somebody with at least one core value I could relate to. Then in the junkyard scene where Tuco jumps out of his car panicking and imploring for Walter and Jesse's help, we witness another never-before-seen facet of his personality: fear. Since when did Tuco fear anything? It's a testament to the scriptwriters and the actors that they could even make someone out like Tuco to be a sympathetic, believable, and personality-rich bad guy.

The third aspect of Breaking Bad that I think makes it so successful is the lush backstory that is constantly unfolding with every episode. A lot of times I suspect television writers have to sacrifice thoughtful story lines for favor of cranking out short-term (i.e. episode-long) scripts that keep the ratings up and the show on the air. But Breaking Bad doesn't fall prey to that too-oft short-sightedness. It is clear that Vince Gilligan and the rest of the brains behind the show maintain a strong grasp of the story's direction. Their job is now to tell it in the most captivating way possible. As a viewer, the roller coaster ride is immensely more enjoyable when you know that engineers aren't hurriedly building its foundation just beyond the visibility of your next swerve.

Before I end this post with my inevitable plug for Breaking Bad, I want to concede that it is not a perfect show. There is the occasional plot hole. Sometimes the pacing is too slow for my liking. And Walter basically has only one expression - a frowny face with an open mouth weighed down by his drooping mustache, like D}-: 

Said expression.

But flaws aside it is really is stellar, quality television. I wholeheartedly recommend it to you if you are looking to be wowed by some quality storytelling, acting, and good old white knuckle drama.