The Baddest Show on TV

I have never seen Avatar. I consider myself a movie buff regarding the time period from at least the mid-1950’s until now, and I have never seen Avatar. Or Alien. Or the two Matrix sequels. Or a single Lord of the Rings or Star Wars film. It isn’t that I in any way doubt the quality or entertainment value of any of those movies, and it’s not that I simply hate science fiction. It’s just that when it comes to movies and television I enjoy watching realistic people (usually men to be honest) making real decisions in a world largely based in reality. Call it personal preference. It’s mentally stimulating for me to put myself in a character’s position, having to make the same decision he has to make and imaging how I would handle it.

Which is why, to me, Breaking Bad is the absolute best show on TV, and it’s hard to put into words how excited I am for the Season 5 Premiere on Sunday. Let me try.

I realize my definition of the word “real” may be a touch different than Webster’s. It’s unlikely that a genius-chemist-turned-high-school-teacher has ever been confronted with the decisions that Walter White handles on a weekly basis, much less converted himself into a methamphetamine manufacturer in the first place.

But that’s the beauty of Breaking Bad. As Grantland’s Andy Greenwald so perfectly put it, the show “at times seems less like a TV drama and more like a terrifying chain reaction.” It started with a situation that thousands upon thousands of people have dealt with and, according to the statistics, one out of every four of us will encounter in some form; staring cancer in the face and wondering how your family will survive without you. Who will provide for them? What can I do now that will help them when I’m gone?

The decision Walt makes leads to dozens upon dozens of new decisions that are progressively less likely for any one of us to ever be confronted with, but, as they say, “shit flows downhill.” The consequences of his actions become more dramatic, more grisly and exponentially more shocking. It’s a reminder that you can make one decision, no matter how good your intentions, and before you know it you’re dumping poison into a Mexican drug lord’s burrito while his mute, wheelchair-relegated uncle warns him by incessantly ringing his communication bell. We’ve all been there.

The narrative of the show turned a very normal man’s life into a shocking but not unbelievable series of twists and turns.

Over its first four seasons, Breaking Bad has earned a handful (plus a finger) of legitimate “Holy Shit!”s from me. Mind you, this is coming from someone who didn’t flinch when we found out Bruce Willis was dead the whole time, didn’t bat an eyelash when we discovered there was a Brian Moser and cried with joy when it was finally revealed that “I am Tyler Durden.” (If I spoiled anything for you just now you might want to check out the weather outside of that cave you’ve been living in.)

Scenes from six separate episodes, “…And the Bag’s in the River” (Season 1, Episode 3), “Crazy Handful of Nothin” (S1E6), “Phoenix” (S2E12), “Half Measures” (S3E12), “Box Cutter” (S4E1) and “Face Off” (S4E13), had me picking my jaw off the floor. No other show has ever done that.

One sign of a great show is when you’re re-watching seasons with someone who has never seen them before and you get excited to see their reaction to what’s coming up. I was giddy like a schoolgirl watching Seasons 1 and 2 over with my roommate; in part to see those amazing moments for a second time, but mostly because one more person in the world was about to become infatuated with the show just as much as I was, largely due to those shock-and-awe moments.

On top of the style and shock, Breaking Bad is the only show on TV that can rival Mad Men’s cast of characters. Every member of the show is a deplorable human being in one way or another. Jesse Pinkman is an on-and-off meth dealer. Saul Goodman is so crooked he makes Maurice Levy look like Clarence Darrow. Gus Fringe is the epitome of evil. Skyler White is….well she’s just a bitch. But somehow they’re all likeable in some way that makes you root for them at times. The most unlikeable characters on the show are the mostly innocent and essentially good Hank and Marie Schrader. It’s a conundrum that can easily make you question your own set of morals.

Do I side with the guy whose intentions were initially good but is now a psychologically conniving monster? If not, then who do I root for? How do I feel about this? When a television show causes you to pose such questions to yourself, it’s doing something right.

All this being said, do NOT watch Sunday’s premiere unless you have seen every one of the first 46 episodes. Instead, find a way to see each season, in order, quickly. I have the first three on DVD if you want to borrow them.

Breaking Bad is unique in the realm of premium television shows in that it follows one, mostly linear path through its entire existence. If it were a plant it would be a species of ivy. Storylines branch off in slightly different directions but always end up winding back around each other in a tightly clumped knot.

I have no idea what showrunner Vince Gilligan had in mind when the show kicked off in 2008, but when you revisit the first two seasons there seems to have been a very distinct plan in place from the beginning. The development is slow in many places. Knowing what we know now makes it seem all the more genius. Some shows, like Sports Night, Arrested Development or Freaks and Geeks, were cancelled early but are still considered great just from the body of work they were able to produce. If Breaking Bad had been cancelled at any point along the way it would have been forgotten for all time; an incomplete story.

Thank God it didn’t come to that. Instead we have two more eight-episode seasons to complete the darkest part of Walt’s life and see how many more people will die in what started as a “No-Rough-Stuff Type Deal.”

Mad Men may have four straight Emmys and Roger Sterling-esque money shots from every television critic in existence all over its box sets, but it also may have reached the point of being too beautiful. It’s disgustingly romantic, dripping in symbolism and utterly fantastic. But we mustn’t forget the root goal of television; to entertain. Nothing against Sterling, Cooper, Draper, Pryce Holloway, but sometimes the dream sequences, whiskey-soaked diatribes and metaphor-laden partners’ meetings need to give way to some good old fashioned heroine overdoses and face explosions.

One more thing, then I gotta go get ready for this premiere. If you follow this blog you’ve surely noticed that I’m borderline obsessed with the work they do over at Grantland.com. One year and three days ago Chuck Klosterman (who is a much better writer than I) published a piece over there ostensibly arguing the same thing I just did (in a much better fashion). I highly recommend reading it.