Monsters of Television

“Chalk it up to clean livin’ and vitamin pills.

Well, welcome to the party, Hank.

So often in fictional narrative media, we’re forced to suspend our disbelief when characters can’t see what we assume they should be able to see. Whether it’s the detective that ignores the clue we see buried in the box or tank-topped, cheerleader-shorted sophomore deigning to walk down the dank basement steps, we’re constantly forced to assume a human being in that storyworld doesn’t think critically like we do. It’s an eye-rolling affair sometimes but one we accept. Usually it’s a crutch for the storywriter: if it’s remotely plausible that a detail can be skipped due to human error or blissful naivete, then it’s less work for the author. Or maybe it’s just that years of cultural consumption have taught us that the dude’s behind the door! Run, girlfriend!

There are at least two times in this episode of Breaking Bad where the there are opportunities for a detail to be skipped or a monologue to continue that would at least continue a story arc into a natural conclusion for the week. But, instead, we get real revelations from people breaking that media perception of just allowing things to happen and not bringing critical thinking in until the penultimate act.

The best part is: it’s for our benefit.

If this were Lost, we’d term this as a “Jesse episode.” Sure, things happen with the other characters but the focus is really on him and Aaron Paul brings the house down. Stirring writing along with well-cobbled together scenes made performances from Paul just electric. It starts with good no-lines. Jesse has business throughout like painting his walls (erasing the recent past) or playing video games (teasing his brain into reliving nightmares he’s trying to repress). He had a great no-line last week when he walked away from Walt (after Walt arrived at the revelation that this is all about him). Something that’s become common is Walt firing at him in monologue at Aaron-Sorkin-speed while Jesse barely contains animosity/frustration/fear/rage/tears. And then he calls him out.

Walt can’t manipulate much but he sure has had some luck bending Jesse to do things he really doesn’t want to do or think a way that’s different what he previously thought. After Walt suffers the indignity of his wife taking his gift away from his son (and then exhibiting his special brand of passive-aggressive violence by doing donuts in and then torching the car), it fits that his next course of action (after Saul bails him out) is to use his power to convince Jesse to kill human. Again. The diatribe all sounds very similar: the Heisenberg voice is in place, the rapid-fire one-sided conversation is alight, the examples of treachery suffered floating around the room like ghosts. Walt brings up (again) all the bad things in Jesse’s life that used to keep him up at night, the things he’s been trying to numb his mind against, until Jesse tells him to “drop the sales pitch.”

Jesse is honestly torn between the people that believe in him (or at least are trying to convince him that they believe in him) and the man to he’s been loyal to for so long. But that’s not the striking part of the episode. It’s interesting but not the breakthrough.

As a writer, you sometimes come up with killer analogies for situations. When Jesse sat in his meeting, talking about what he did “a couple weeks ago” (is it weird to anyone else that it’s only been, like, a month or so since Gale was shot in the face?) in relation to a dog he put down, that is usually the open door for a writer to crack his or her knuckles and drag us through an extended metaphor about dogs and loyalty. The word “loyalty” is mentioned earlier by Mike, starkly so to make sure the point was made (particularly poignant after Jesse almost killed Gus minutes before). Just as I was about to settle in and listen to Jesse prattle on about how he put down the dog and now he’s the dog, the circle of trust starts to ask questions. These are questions we would totally ask ourselves had we been listening to the story with no knowledge of Jesse’s crimes. Why would you just kill a dog? Was he hurting someone? Was he mad? Being a “problem dog” wouldn’t be enough detail.

So this tee-up metaphor doesn’t get knocked for the homerun, doesn’t even get fouled out. It just get violently smashed into the ground. So instead of enlightening us about Jesse’s situation through improvised allegory (always subject to accusations of being “writerly”), Jesse is able to express his frustrations differently, more vividly.

“No consequences” is such an important point to why Jesse is the way he is now (and makes that cold open with the video game a better metaphor than any dog nonsense could have). We consider the indignities Jesse has had to suffer over time with Walt, compounded by his time with Gus and Mike, but he’s never had to suffer any real consequences for his actions. He’s sold tons of meth and killed people but the only real thing he’s had to suffer is fear. Fear of whether or not someone is hunting him, police or otherwise. Fear of this whole thing blowing up in his face. Fear of shadows. Because that’s all they are: shadows. It’s all talk and gambits and performance but, beyond get the crap kicked out of him every once in a while (usually not in respect for anything he’s done at all), nothing ever really happens when he fails or succeeds. He just gets to continue.

So by destroying the metaphor, destroying that opportunity for a writer to flex that muscle, we get a far more honest scene and something with a lot more power behind it.

The other time, of course, is our WTF moment at the end of the episode. Hank, back in the saddle again, has taken the initiative to pursue Gale’s case. When he brings his evidence to his buddies at the Bureau, we could’ve cut after Hank makes the accusation that Gus is the man behind everything. The footwork he provides is already serious business and, let me just say, this is the Hank I love. I put Surly Hank down with Walt/Jesse fights as my least favorite parts of the show.

But they could’ve let Hank finger Gus and get laughed out of the boardroom so Hank could discover the print analysis later. But that’s not something Hank would do. He wouldn’t provide this pieced-together story without everything he needs to back it up and it was important that we are left with his colleagues not only amazed by the footwork (and they show how impressed they are throughout the conversation) but pretty much convinced at the solid if insane conclusion. Essentially, we’re forced to move forward after this. The legwork is done. This is actionable. Which is why we’re stunned that the episode ends right there. More. I want more.

This is a show that consistently flouts convention but what I enjoy is how effective it is when the convention is broken. The dog metaphor would’ve been completely useful and powerful to us as an audience but the breakdown about consequences is far more impressive and contributes way more to the emotional state of the character. It’s beautiful to see that kind of thing happen in television, people willing to take risks. There’s no avant garde testing ground for episodic moving image storytelling.

Other things:

• Before this evening, my perception of why Jesse has been so numb was comparable less to “no consequences” and more like Cholly in Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye being “dangerously free.” He’d suffered so much and seen so many sides of this life that I assumed Jesse just felt above everything. He was “free to live his fantasies, and free even to die, the how and when of which held no interest to him.” The tenet of “no consequences” backs that up but is more substantial than just suffering the effects of PTSD.
• I’m still puzzled by why Skyler does want to stay on. Is it the thrill of doing something bad (because she wouldn’t do that for Ted)? Is it that she still loves Walt? Is it because she sees a way to control the secret life that used to be an escape from her? Is it an opportunity to be a Harpy everywhere Walt goes so he can never truly escape being continually castrated?
• Was RAGE out when the show was shooting? You have to wonder about people wanting product placement during a show that glorifies criminality. Well, sort of glorifies it. I wouldn’t want their lives. But maybe some poor sap out there is like, “Whoa! I want to have a job where I get to shoot innocent people in the face AND have time to play video games! Do I start by getting an XBox?”
• Marie has been such a sweetheart lately. How are they going to ruin it? Can it be something that’s not kleptomania?
• “It’s my lucky …” I don’t smoke but I do know that about smoking culture and I love this conversation. An ingenious way to motivate the story since it not only gives a way for Jesse to honestly transport the poison but also shows him as an astute problem-solver.
• What do you think the Cartel wants? Heisenberg? What if Gus offered 10 kittens instead? “If $50 million is not enough, I do have a litter of kittens I can give you. A video or two of them will garner you many hits on YouTube.” “El Jefe is a big fan of the gattos. You have yourself a deal.” That’s probably why they don’t send their kitten-loving henchmen to do the talking. They’ll trade anything for a solid LOLcat opportunity.
• Speaking of Noel, he should be back here next week. Maybe. No promises.