I saw a couple of Facebook postings today from people imploring the interwebs to stop spoilering the finale of "Breaking Bad," as they had only gotten up to, like, season three on Netflix. I have no sympathy! If people had started watching the show back when we all told them to, then they wouldn't find themselves in this predicament now would they? Still, good luck with that whole internet shutdown. Maybe you can get Republicans to attach a defund Obamacare rider to every website. . . .
I don't even know what that means.
Anyway, on to the post: A final consideration/tribute to "Breaking Bad," the indisputably best show on television over at least the last three years or so, and short-listed candidate for best drama of all time. Last night, of course, was the series finale, and the show went out in a blaze of glory. I must admit that the opening, while entertaining, was kind of pointless: Why open with a "suspenseful" moment before Walter White leaves New Hampshire on his final trip to New Mexico? By this time, we know he gets away from the Granite State: We've seen him back home in the flash-forward!
After that point, however, the finale teems with memorable and highly satisfying moments. Walt's final farewell to Skyler brought a tear to these cynical eyes, especially Walt's confession, arguably his most honest moment in the series, that everything he had done he did, ultimately, because he wanted to: "I liked it. I was good at it. I was alive." The massacre of Uncle Jack and his merry band of Nazis, the ricining of Lydia, and Jesse's revenge on Creepy Todd satisfied on a visceral level. And of course, Walt's death, surrounded by the tools of his trade, a slight smile on his lips, as "Baby Blue" (which I thought was an Aimee Mann song but which turns out to be by Badfinger--she covered it) played over the soundtrack was just. . . .MWAH (I just put my fingers to my lips and then opened my fingers in a kiss-blowing motion). The perfect ending to the perfect show. (And a sort of redemption for executive producer/creator Vince Gilligan, who had a hand in what was probably the worst series finale of all time, "The X-Files.")
The best part of the finale, though, was actually one of the less important moments: the meeting between Walt and his erstwhile partners, the Schwartzes. This scene presented us with one of the last examples of Walt figuring his way out of an insoluble problem: how to get his money--nearly ten million dollars--to his family without it being confiscated by the DEA. Not only does he enlist the Schwartzes as his reluctant bagmen, he also manages to put the fear of God--or of Heisenberg, which is probably worse--into these people who foolishly disparaged his abilities--and on national television no less! Long after he is dead, he will continue to haunt his former friends.
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So what's the big deal about "Breaking Bad," anyway? I've been thinking about this, and the best answer I can give is that "BB" is nothing less than a classical tragedy set in modern America. As with the finest tragedies, the ending is preordained at the beginning, as a tragic hero--one "like ourselves or better" in the Aristotelian formulation--hurtles headlong to a doom of his own making. We watch Walter White, confronted with his own mortality, not only rage against the dying of the light, but seize every opportunity to transcend the destiny assigned to him. We love Walter because he represents something we all wish we could be: a brilliant, invincible commander of his own fate. That he does this by becoming a conscienceless methamphetamine kingpin only complicates our feelings--it does not diminish them.
Whether you consider "Breaking Bad" the greatest television drama ever, or just one of a handful of flawlessly written, beautifully acted series, one thing is for certain: We are unlikely to see another show like this, or another character like Walter White, any time soon. Rest in peace, Heisenberg.
Showing posts with label Breaking Bad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breaking Bad. Show all posts
Monday, September 30, 2013
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Can a Government Shutdown Be Avoided?
Once again, in what by now seems like the political equivalent of "Groundhog Day," Republican extremists are threatening to drive the country over a fiscal cliff, holding serious budget negotiations hostage to unrealistic demands for ideological purity. As has been pointed out in numerous outlets, even Republican stalwarts like John McCain and Lindsey Graham have grown weary of the theatrics, calling on their party colleagues to accept reality and negotiate seriously with their ideological adversaries, lest they condemn the Grand Old Party to permanent residency in the political wilderness. Meanwhile, on the Democratic side of the aisle--
Oh, who am I kidding? Who has time for political nonsense! The "Breaking Bad" finale will premiere in a few short hours! And I have to admit, I have no idea what's going to happen. I mean, Walter pretty much has to die, right? But he has to take out Uncle Jack and Creepy Todd first! Me, personally? I'm guessing Jesse takes Walt out, but who knows? And who's gonna get the ricin?
I'm so not ready for this.
Oh, who am I kidding? Who has time for political nonsense! The "Breaking Bad" finale will premiere in a few short hours! And I have to admit, I have no idea what's going to happen. I mean, Walter pretty much has to die, right? But he has to take out Uncle Jack and Creepy Todd first! Me, personally? I'm guessing Jesse takes Walt out, but who knows? And who's gonna get the ricin?
I'm so not ready for this.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
A Couple of Random "Breaking Bad" Thoughts for Your Thursday
I was using my hat--a black porkpie--to illustrate the concept of a noun phrase in class. One student asked what kind of a hat it was, and another student answered, "That's a Heisenberg hat, Man." That second student has officially passed the class.
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Flipping through channels the other day, I stumbled upon the original "Saw"--the one where Cary Elwes spends the whole movie chained to a steampipe in a dungeon before finally deciding that his only chance for survival is to hacksaw through his own leg to free himself. It occurred to me that if Walter White were in Elwes' place, the movie would be over in five minutes, as Walter would not only have figured out a way to free himself, but he would also have managed (semi-inadvertently) to kill Jigsaw in the most gruesome manner possible and then gone on to a lucrative career designing custom-made torture-traps of his own. In other words, it would have been a vast improvement.
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Flipping through channels the other day, I stumbled upon the original "Saw"--the one where Cary Elwes spends the whole movie chained to a steampipe in a dungeon before finally deciding that his only chance for survival is to hacksaw through his own leg to free himself. It occurred to me that if Walter White were in Elwes' place, the movie would be over in five minutes, as Walter would not only have figured out a way to free himself, but he would also have managed (semi-inadvertently) to kill Jigsaw in the most gruesome manner possible and then gone on to a lucrative career designing custom-made torture-traps of his own. In other words, it would have been a vast improvement.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Breaking Worse
A popular meme making the rounds on YouTube re-imagines some of today's most popular television shows--"Game of Thrones," "The Walking Dead"--as if they were produced in 1995. To me, the results are more reminiscent of the 1980's--I don't remember the '90's being quite so cheesy--but they are amusing nonetheless.
One remix presents "Breaking Bad" as an "Eight Is Enough"-style family dramedy. Instead of the familiar image of chemical symbols rising through toxic meth-fumes, the show's "opening" features a cheery up-tempo pop tune over clips of the show's stars smiling, joking, and loving each other unconditionally. The ncongruity of "Breaking Bad"'s unremitting gothic darkness transposed into the land of warm fuzzies makes for great comedy.
The problem arises when somebody at a major network--or in this case, ABC--decides that this parody would actually make for a good drama. Such seems to be the case with "Red Widow."
I watched the pilot the other night--I have a lot of old stuff on my DVR. The show is about a woman, Marta Walraven (Radha Mitchell), whose husband is murdered after he and his partners steal a cocaine shipment from a powerful gangster named Schiller (Goran Visnjic). In order to settle her husband's debt--and ensure no further harm comes to her family--Marta agrees to work for Schiller. Although she is awkward at first, I can already see where this is heading: If the show lasts, Marta will undoubtedly display a Walter-White-worthy capacity for violence. As the daughter of a gangster herself, Marta already has the criminal instincts she will need to thrive in this business.
Unlike "Breaking Bad," though, where the corruption of a basically decent soul is treated with the seriousness befitting such a theme (although not without a generous helping of black humor), "Red Widow" cannot be taken seriously.
One ostensibly minor moment gives the idea: The plot of the pilot revolves around Marta trying to obtain the cooperation of a port supervisor, who will make sure that, when the time comes, a shipment of drugs will be placed on the "right" truck. When she first approaches this supervisor, she is hopelessly awkward. She is advised by her partner that she should use her "assets": "At least you're hot." We next see Marta walking down the stairs in her house, wearing a micro-mini-skirt and heels in which, for some reason, she is stumbling. She then accidentally sets off her newly installed security system when she opens her door, and frantically, haplessly, tries to turn it off. Her son comes to the rescue and questions her wardrobe choices. She brushes him off and proceeds to begin her seduction of the unsuspecting longshoreman.
I suppose the slapstick is meant to be funny, or at least to show us how ill-prepared Marta is for these dangerous undertakings. But the bit with the alarm system just felt gratutitous, and I find it hard to believe that a thirty-something blond bombshell has never walked in heels before, especially since we earlier saw her dancing at her sister's wedding--and I don't think she was wearing sneakers.
Nitpicky? Well, yes, but still, it's little things like this that make me wonder what this show wants to be--how seriously it means to be taken. I realize that the major broadcast networks have an imperative to reach the broadest possible audience, and obvious gags are a good way to lighten the mood and assure the masses that this is a character they can relate to. But if this is what is going to pass for long-form drama on the broadcast giants, they might be better off just sticking with ever-more installments of "The Bachelor" and "Dancing with the Stars."
One remix presents "Breaking Bad" as an "Eight Is Enough"-style family dramedy. Instead of the familiar image of chemical symbols rising through toxic meth-fumes, the show's "opening" features a cheery up-tempo pop tune over clips of the show's stars smiling, joking, and loving each other unconditionally. The ncongruity of "Breaking Bad"'s unremitting gothic darkness transposed into the land of warm fuzzies makes for great comedy.
The problem arises when somebody at a major network--or in this case, ABC--decides that this parody would actually make for a good drama. Such seems to be the case with "Red Widow."
I watched the pilot the other night--I have a lot of old stuff on my DVR. The show is about a woman, Marta Walraven (Radha Mitchell), whose husband is murdered after he and his partners steal a cocaine shipment from a powerful gangster named Schiller (Goran Visnjic). In order to settle her husband's debt--and ensure no further harm comes to her family--Marta agrees to work for Schiller. Although she is awkward at first, I can already see where this is heading: If the show lasts, Marta will undoubtedly display a Walter-White-worthy capacity for violence. As the daughter of a gangster herself, Marta already has the criminal instincts she will need to thrive in this business.
Unlike "Breaking Bad," though, where the corruption of a basically decent soul is treated with the seriousness befitting such a theme (although not without a generous helping of black humor), "Red Widow" cannot be taken seriously.
One ostensibly minor moment gives the idea: The plot of the pilot revolves around Marta trying to obtain the cooperation of a port supervisor, who will make sure that, when the time comes, a shipment of drugs will be placed on the "right" truck. When she first approaches this supervisor, she is hopelessly awkward. She is advised by her partner that she should use her "assets": "At least you're hot." We next see Marta walking down the stairs in her house, wearing a micro-mini-skirt and heels in which, for some reason, she is stumbling. She then accidentally sets off her newly installed security system when she opens her door, and frantically, haplessly, tries to turn it off. Her son comes to the rescue and questions her wardrobe choices. She brushes him off and proceeds to begin her seduction of the unsuspecting longshoreman.
I suppose the slapstick is meant to be funny, or at least to show us how ill-prepared Marta is for these dangerous undertakings. But the bit with the alarm system just felt gratutitous, and I find it hard to believe that a thirty-something blond bombshell has never walked in heels before, especially since we earlier saw her dancing at her sister's wedding--and I don't think she was wearing sneakers.
Nitpicky? Well, yes, but still, it's little things like this that make me wonder what this show wants to be--how seriously it means to be taken. I realize that the major broadcast networks have an imperative to reach the broadest possible audience, and obvious gags are a good way to lighten the mood and assure the masses that this is a character they can relate to. But if this is what is going to pass for long-form drama on the broadcast giants, they might be better off just sticking with ever-more installments of "The Bachelor" and "Dancing with the Stars."
Friday, September 28, 2012
A Question of Character (NOT an Election-Related Post)
Lately, DOS has been complaining about--well, it would probably take less time to list the things he HASN'T been complaining about. The internet has only so much space, after all. Where was I?
Well, ONE of the things he has complained about is the tendency of television producer types to mistake a good premise for a movie for a good premise for a television series. Take, for example, last season's "Terra Nova." Now, I never actually watched the show, but the premise, as far as I can tell, was essentially "Jurassic Park," except with people travelling to the time of the dinosaurs instead of the dinosaurs coming to us. Sounds like a decent premise for a miniseries or a movie--perhaps they could call it "Jurassic Park"--but it won't necessarily work as an ongoing TV series. Because where do you go with it? "On this week's 'Terra Nova,' people run from dinosaurs!"; "Stay tuned for scenes from next week's all new 'Terra Nova,' in which. . . people run from dinosaurs!"; "Don't miss the season finale of 'Terra Nova.' People run from dinosaus. . .AND SOMEONE DOESN'T GET AWAY!!!!"
DOS has a point, but I don't think the problem with these shows is exactly (or solely) a problem of premise. Consider "Homeland," which just won the Emmy for best drama, or even "Breaking Bad," which should have won. Both shows' premises sound more appropriate for feature films than ongoing series: "American POW returns to the US as terrorist sleeper agent, and only a mentally ill CIA agent suspects the truth." "Cancer-stricken chemistry teacher starts cooking crystal meth to provide for his family and ultimately becomes the kingpin of the southwest drug trade." Yet both shows work (although, admittedly, it remains to be seen if "Homeland" can keep things going beyond one season). And the annals of television history are filled with series that had decent premises but couldn't find an audience.
What makes shows work--regardless of the inherent strength of concept--is character. "BrBa" and "Homeland" work because characters like Walter White, Jesse Pinkman Carrie Matheson, and Nicholas Brody are richly drawn and beautifully portrayed. What made "Lost" work to the extent that it did--and "Lost" is probably the archetypal example of DOS's complaints about movie-premise for a TV show--was the fact that the show devoted, literally, as much time (about 50% of every episode) to character development as it did to moving the plot--such as it was--forward.
Which brings me to this season. Over the last two days I've watched the premieres of "Revolution" (yes, I know it started two weeks ago--I'm backed up, OK?!?) and "Last Resort." "Revolution" is the latest J. J. Abrams vehicle. In it, the world has suffered a massive and irreversible blackout. Not only has the electricity gone out permanently, but apparently the physical laws that allow people to generate power have gone kerflooey as well: no more internal combustion engines, and--I guess--no more ability to boil water to create steam-driven engines. . .? OK, the premise doesn't really bear much looking into. Anyway, 15 years after the blackout, humanity has more or less adjusted, and there is a revolution (hence the title) brewing against a warlord who has taken control (at least of a large portion of what used to be the midwest). In "Last Resort," the crew of a nuclear submarine, after refusing an order to fire missiles at Pakistan (an order that was highly suspect to say the least), is in turn attacked by the US Navy. The crew of the Colorado then takes shelter on an island and threatens massive nuclear retaliation against anyone who attacks them.
So how are they? Well, considering the limtation of both premises (where do you go with them?), the shows' success or failure will depend largely on their characters. In this regard, "Last Resort" would seem to have more potential. Andre Braugher leads the cast as the captain of the Colorado, and he clearly portrays a man on the horns of an impossible dilemma. "Revolution" seems mostly populated by characters who could have come straight from the cast of "Lost," right down to the scruffy, former bazillionaire trying to survive in a totally unfamiliar world. Still, I've only seen one episode of each, so we'll wait to pass final judgment for at last a couple more weeks. Ultimately, whichever one (if either) produces a character or two whom one wants to spend time with every week will be the one that lasts.
Well, ONE of the things he has complained about is the tendency of television producer types to mistake a good premise for a movie for a good premise for a television series. Take, for example, last season's "Terra Nova." Now, I never actually watched the show, but the premise, as far as I can tell, was essentially "Jurassic Park," except with people travelling to the time of the dinosaurs instead of the dinosaurs coming to us. Sounds like a decent premise for a miniseries or a movie--perhaps they could call it "Jurassic Park"--but it won't necessarily work as an ongoing TV series. Because where do you go with it? "On this week's 'Terra Nova,' people run from dinosaurs!"; "Stay tuned for scenes from next week's all new 'Terra Nova,' in which. . . people run from dinosaurs!"; "Don't miss the season finale of 'Terra Nova.' People run from dinosaus. . .AND SOMEONE DOESN'T GET AWAY!!!!"
DOS has a point, but I don't think the problem with these shows is exactly (or solely) a problem of premise. Consider "Homeland," which just won the Emmy for best drama, or even "Breaking Bad," which should have won. Both shows' premises sound more appropriate for feature films than ongoing series: "American POW returns to the US as terrorist sleeper agent, and only a mentally ill CIA agent suspects the truth." "Cancer-stricken chemistry teacher starts cooking crystal meth to provide for his family and ultimately becomes the kingpin of the southwest drug trade." Yet both shows work (although, admittedly, it remains to be seen if "Homeland" can keep things going beyond one season). And the annals of television history are filled with series that had decent premises but couldn't find an audience.
What makes shows work--regardless of the inherent strength of concept--is character. "BrBa" and "Homeland" work because characters like Walter White, Jesse Pinkman Carrie Matheson, and Nicholas Brody are richly drawn and beautifully portrayed. What made "Lost" work to the extent that it did--and "Lost" is probably the archetypal example of DOS's complaints about movie-premise for a TV show--was the fact that the show devoted, literally, as much time (about 50% of every episode) to character development as it did to moving the plot--such as it was--forward.
Which brings me to this season. Over the last two days I've watched the premieres of "Revolution" (yes, I know it started two weeks ago--I'm backed up, OK?!?) and "Last Resort." "Revolution" is the latest J. J. Abrams vehicle. In it, the world has suffered a massive and irreversible blackout. Not only has the electricity gone out permanently, but apparently the physical laws that allow people to generate power have gone kerflooey as well: no more internal combustion engines, and--I guess--no more ability to boil water to create steam-driven engines. . .? OK, the premise doesn't really bear much looking into. Anyway, 15 years after the blackout, humanity has more or less adjusted, and there is a revolution (hence the title) brewing against a warlord who has taken control (at least of a large portion of what used to be the midwest). In "Last Resort," the crew of a nuclear submarine, after refusing an order to fire missiles at Pakistan (an order that was highly suspect to say the least), is in turn attacked by the US Navy. The crew of the Colorado then takes shelter on an island and threatens massive nuclear retaliation against anyone who attacks them.
So how are they? Well, considering the limtation of both premises (where do you go with them?), the shows' success or failure will depend largely on their characters. In this regard, "Last Resort" would seem to have more potential. Andre Braugher leads the cast as the captain of the Colorado, and he clearly portrays a man on the horns of an impossible dilemma. "Revolution" seems mostly populated by characters who could have come straight from the cast of "Lost," right down to the scruffy, former bazillionaire trying to survive in a totally unfamiliar world. Still, I've only seen one episode of each, so we'll wait to pass final judgment for at last a couple more weeks. Ultimately, whichever one (if either) produces a character or two whom one wants to spend time with every week will be the one that lasts.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Well, At Least It Wasn't "Mad Men"
As I may have mentioned once or twice, "Breaking Bad" is the best show on television. Apparently, those who vote on the Emmy Awards see things differently. These TV afficionados saw fit last night to bestow the big prize on "Homeland." I have nothing against "Homeland" myself--quite enjoy it actually--but only if it remains as gripping in its fifth season (if it makes it that far) as it was in its first will it deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as BrBa (which, by the way, based on the periodic table would be bromine-barium--the chemical compound for AWESOME!).
"Homeland," though, is quite addictive in its own right. Congratulations to the two leads, Damian Lewis and Claire Danes, for their wins in the leading performer categories. Lewis's win surprised me a bit, but I guess the voters felt that, if they weren't going to award "Mad Men" a historic Emmy, they didn't want to bestow a historic Emmy on Bryan Cranston either. I will say this about Damian Lewis, though: Now that "House" is off the air, Lewis easily takes the title of "Brit-with-the-most-pitch-perfect-American-accent-on-television."
Claire Danes, on the other hand, was the closest thing to a lock among this year's nominees. For those who don't watch the show, Danes plays Carrie Matheson, a CIA agent who suspects (rightly, it turns out) that Marine Sgt. Adrian Brody (Lewis) is actually a terrorist sleeper agent. Unbeknownst to her colleagues, though, Carrie also suffers from bipolar disorder, and she suffers a manic breakdown after being wounded in a suicide bombing. Once this scene aired, the Emmy competition was over.
As for BrBa, just wait 'til next year. By then, the series will have reached its finale. Perhaps, much like "The Sopranos," it will sweep the awards in its final chance. I just hope not to hear "Don't Stop Believin'" as the final credits roll.
"Homeland," though, is quite addictive in its own right. Congratulations to the two leads, Damian Lewis and Claire Danes, for their wins in the leading performer categories. Lewis's win surprised me a bit, but I guess the voters felt that, if they weren't going to award "Mad Men" a historic Emmy, they didn't want to bestow a historic Emmy on Bryan Cranston either. I will say this about Damian Lewis, though: Now that "House" is off the air, Lewis easily takes the title of "Brit-with-the-most-pitch-perfect-American-accent-on-television."
Claire Danes, on the other hand, was the closest thing to a lock among this year's nominees. For those who don't watch the show, Danes plays Carrie Matheson, a CIA agent who suspects (rightly, it turns out) that Marine Sgt. Adrian Brody (Lewis) is actually a terrorist sleeper agent. Unbeknownst to her colleagues, though, Carrie also suffers from bipolar disorder, and she suffers a manic breakdown after being wounded in a suicide bombing. Once this scene aired, the Emmy competition was over.
As for BrBa, just wait 'til next year. By then, the series will have reached its finale. Perhaps, much like "The Sopranos," it will sweep the awards in its final chance. I just hope not to hear "Don't Stop Believin'" as the final credits roll.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
For Your Consideration
Feeling a bit writer's-blocked today, so let's talk actors. The Emmy nominees for best actor in a drama series are Hugh Bonneville, Steve Buscemi, Bryan Cranston, Michael C. Hall, Jon Hamm, and Damian Lewis.
Bryan Cranston ("Breaking Bad") has become the "Mad Men" of the best-actor category: the default winner. He's already won the award three times. Unlike "Mad Men," though, the continued adulation of which--as I mentioned in an earlier post--somewhat mystifies me, Cranston deserves every accolade he receives. He is the primary (though not sole) reason that "Breaking Bad" is the best show on television. That being said, let's consider the other nominees.
Buscemi ("Boardwalk Empire"), Hall ("Dexter"), and Hamm ("Mad Men") are repeat nominees. Of those three, Michael C. Hall is by far the most deserving. Steve Buscemi is great as Nucky Thompson, but ultimately, any time you see Steve Buscemi. . . you see Steve Buscemi. I don't mean this as a criticism: It's just that Buscemi has such a distinctive look/persona that it's hard for him to escape being him. Jon Hamm faces almost the opposite problem in "Mad Men": Don Draper is essentially a void, a blank space. And Jon Hamm fills that space with his all-too-typical good looks and coolness. There's really no "there" there. Michael C. Hall, though, carries "Dexter" to at least the same extent that Bryan Cranston carries "Breaking Bad." And his portrayal of an "ethical" serial-killer--who must constantly play various roles himself--is more than worthy of an Emmy.
Then there are the two newcomers. Damian Lewis is great in "Homeland" but ultimately overshadowed by Claire Danes (about whom I imagine we'll talk in a future installment). I've never seen "Downton Abbey," so I can't speak to Hugh Bonneville in that show. He is, however, hilarious in "Twenty Twelve," an "Office"-type sitcom that focuses on the members of the Olympic Deliverance Committee, responsible for bringing the Games to London.
And then there is the glaring omission in this year's nominations: Hugh Laurie. True, this final season of "House" was far from the best, but it was the final season. The character of Dr. Gregory House is iconic, and it would seem only right that Hugh Laurie be given at least a chance to finally win an Emmy for his performance. I think the Emmy voters got confused: They gave the obligatory "Brit-Who-Does-an-Annoyingly-Perfect-American-Accent" spot to Damian Lewis and the "Brit-Named-Hugh" spot to Bonneville. Someone should really point out their mistake.
Bryan Cranston ("Breaking Bad") has become the "Mad Men" of the best-actor category: the default winner. He's already won the award three times. Unlike "Mad Men," though, the continued adulation of which--as I mentioned in an earlier post--somewhat mystifies me, Cranston deserves every accolade he receives. He is the primary (though not sole) reason that "Breaking Bad" is the best show on television. That being said, let's consider the other nominees.
Buscemi ("Boardwalk Empire"), Hall ("Dexter"), and Hamm ("Mad Men") are repeat nominees. Of those three, Michael C. Hall is by far the most deserving. Steve Buscemi is great as Nucky Thompson, but ultimately, any time you see Steve Buscemi. . . you see Steve Buscemi. I don't mean this as a criticism: It's just that Buscemi has such a distinctive look/persona that it's hard for him to escape being him. Jon Hamm faces almost the opposite problem in "Mad Men": Don Draper is essentially a void, a blank space. And Jon Hamm fills that space with his all-too-typical good looks and coolness. There's really no "there" there. Michael C. Hall, though, carries "Dexter" to at least the same extent that Bryan Cranston carries "Breaking Bad." And his portrayal of an "ethical" serial-killer--who must constantly play various roles himself--is more than worthy of an Emmy.
Then there are the two newcomers. Damian Lewis is great in "Homeland" but ultimately overshadowed by Claire Danes (about whom I imagine we'll talk in a future installment). I've never seen "Downton Abbey," so I can't speak to Hugh Bonneville in that show. He is, however, hilarious in "Twenty Twelve," an "Office"-type sitcom that focuses on the members of the Olympic Deliverance Committee, responsible for bringing the Games to London.
And then there is the glaring omission in this year's nominations: Hugh Laurie. True, this final season of "House" was far from the best, but it was the final season. The character of Dr. Gregory House is iconic, and it would seem only right that Hugh Laurie be given at least a chance to finally win an Emmy for his performance. I think the Emmy voters got confused: They gave the obligatory "Brit-Who-Does-an-Annoyingly-Perfect-American-Accent" spot to Damian Lewis and the "Brit-Named-Hugh" spot to Bonneville. Someone should really point out their mistake.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
MAGNETS, BITCH!
The Emmy nominations came out today. In just over two months, we'll find out if "Mad Men" strengthens its claim as the best show ever by winning a fifth consecutive "Best Drama" award. I for one hope it doesn't.
Don't get me wrong: I like "Mad Men." But this raises the inevitable question: Why? As DOS and others have pointed out, in "Mad Men," nothing ever happens! And not "nothing" in the funny, Seinfeldian sense, either. You disagree? OK, well, go ahead: Summarize the plot of any episode of "Mad Men." If you respond that individual episodes are not the point--it's the overall series you have to consider--well, fair enough: Summarize the plot of the series. At this point, you're probably saying something like, "It's about the 60's, Man! It's about the fundamental cultural shifts that were rocking American society to the core." Which is true (and you should really stop talking to your computer: Remember, I can't hear you. And people are starting to stare). But, my friend, that is a theme, not a plot. I stand by my initial comment.
As I say, though, I do like "Mad Men," and the reason is the one thing that makes the show somewhat unique. If you want to enjoy "Mad Men," you should--indeed, must--enjoy it as a purely aesthetic experience, like looking at a beautiful painting. Because the show is undeniably and indisputably well made. The look of the show is flawless, thanks to Matthew Weiner's Aspergerian attention to detail. And the characters are all engaging enough, even if what's happening to them is nothing more nor less than the standard ups and downs that you would expect to happen to any set of upper-middle-class white folk in the 1960s. People marry, have affairs, die; drink, smoke, occasionally drop acid; go to work, get promoted, get fired. And so on. One can find enjoyment enough in spending an hour a week with these folks, but once the week's episode ends, one can scarcely recall what has just happened. Because nothing really has.
The same cannot be said for the other best-drama nominees, each veritably stuffed with plot: "Boardwalk Empire," "Game of Thrones," and "Homeland" are all worthy nominees. And this year "Breaking Bad" has returned to contention. If there's any justice at all, "Breaking Bad" will win: Not only is it the best show on television right now, it is also quite possibly the best show ever, and for the life of me I cannot understand why several people I know, intelligent types with sophisticated tastes, have still not started watching it. What are you people waiting for, a personal invitation? Well I just gave you one!
The final drama nominee, or "draminee," is "Downton Abbey." I don't watch that myself. I know a lot of people love it, but I haven't gotten around to it. I was under the impression, though, that "Downton Abbey" was actually an older show, and was only "new" in the sense that it hadn't been shown in the US. Someone can clarify this for me.
We'll discuss other categories as the awards approach. Hey, I have to hold something in reserve, in case writer's block strikes again.
Don't get me wrong: I like "Mad Men." But this raises the inevitable question: Why? As DOS and others have pointed out, in "Mad Men," nothing ever happens! And not "nothing" in the funny, Seinfeldian sense, either. You disagree? OK, well, go ahead: Summarize the plot of any episode of "Mad Men." If you respond that individual episodes are not the point--it's the overall series you have to consider--well, fair enough: Summarize the plot of the series. At this point, you're probably saying something like, "It's about the 60's, Man! It's about the fundamental cultural shifts that were rocking American society to the core." Which is true (and you should really stop talking to your computer: Remember, I can't hear you. And people are starting to stare). But, my friend, that is a theme, not a plot. I stand by my initial comment.
As I say, though, I do like "Mad Men," and the reason is the one thing that makes the show somewhat unique. If you want to enjoy "Mad Men," you should--indeed, must--enjoy it as a purely aesthetic experience, like looking at a beautiful painting. Because the show is undeniably and indisputably well made. The look of the show is flawless, thanks to Matthew Weiner's Aspergerian attention to detail. And the characters are all engaging enough, even if what's happening to them is nothing more nor less than the standard ups and downs that you would expect to happen to any set of upper-middle-class white folk in the 1960s. People marry, have affairs, die; drink, smoke, occasionally drop acid; go to work, get promoted, get fired. And so on. One can find enjoyment enough in spending an hour a week with these folks, but once the week's episode ends, one can scarcely recall what has just happened. Because nothing really has.
The same cannot be said for the other best-drama nominees, each veritably stuffed with plot: "Boardwalk Empire," "Game of Thrones," and "Homeland" are all worthy nominees. And this year "Breaking Bad" has returned to contention. If there's any justice at all, "Breaking Bad" will win: Not only is it the best show on television right now, it is also quite possibly the best show ever, and for the life of me I cannot understand why several people I know, intelligent types with sophisticated tastes, have still not started watching it. What are you people waiting for, a personal invitation? Well I just gave you one!
The final drama nominee, or "draminee," is "Downton Abbey." I don't watch that myself. I know a lot of people love it, but I haven't gotten around to it. I was under the impression, though, that "Downton Abbey" was actually an older show, and was only "new" in the sense that it hadn't been shown in the US. Someone can clarify this for me.
We'll discuss other categories as the awards approach. Hey, I have to hold something in reserve, in case writer's block strikes again.
Friday, September 2, 2011
In Case Your ADD Meds Are Wearing Off
If you're one of those people who sits in a movie theater texting throughout Harry Potter's final confrontation with Voldemort, or who loves chattering incessantly while other people are just trying to enjoy a TV show, then we imagine AMC's virtual viewing party may hold some appeal.
Needless to say, we won't be attending. If you'd like to chat about Sunday night's "Breaking Bad," meetus at the virtual water cooler on Monday.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
We're Mad as Hell, and We're Not Going to Take It Any More!
Oh, it's on, Nation! It. Is. ON!
This morning, not ONE WEEK after we told you that "Breaking Bad" is quite simply the best show on television, the Emmy nominations came out. And, as if to mock the Solipsist--everyone's favorite pastime, to be sure--the Emmy nominators treated "Breaking Bad" like the Oscars used to treat Steven Spielberg: NOTHING! No nomination for best drama or best writing or best directing--even multiple-Emmy winner Bryan Cranston got the shaft!
Well, people, this will not stand! We know that the Emmys--like all awards, really--are really political and we should not be offended by the inexplicable lack of any semblance of taste on the part of its nominating committee.
(DIGRESSION: We mean no offense to the other nominees, including "Dexter," "Mad Men," "Game of Thrones," "Boardwalk Empire," and "The Good Wife"--actually, scratch that, we DO mean offense to "The Good Wife." We've never seen it, but no way in hell is it better than "Breaking Bad." EOD)
Still, when a masterpiece like "Breaking Bad" gets dissed so completely, we cannot help but rail against what Monty Python might call the "typical Philistine pig ignorance we've come to expect from you non-creative garbage." If "Breaking Bad" is not worthy of consideration, then there is no sense whatsoever in claiming that these awards reflect anything other than the crass, inscrutable preferences of a group of troglodytic mouth-breathers who should have their licenses to think--or live!--revoked. Flogging is too good for these morons! If stupidity were a fuel, these folks could power the entire West Coast electrical grid until the second coming! If bad taste were a Nobel category, these loutish wormspawn would be on their way to Sweden! If--
What's that?
Oh.
Heh. Ahem.
We've just been informed that, because of its broadcasting schedule, "Breaking Bad" was not eligible for the Emmys at this time. The season that begins on Sunday will be in the running next year.
Well. So. . . . Anyway. . . . How about that Hugh Laurie?
This is so humiliating.
This morning, not ONE WEEK after we told you that "Breaking Bad" is quite simply the best show on television, the Emmy nominations came out. And, as if to mock the Solipsist--everyone's favorite pastime, to be sure--the Emmy nominators treated "Breaking Bad" like the Oscars used to treat Steven Spielberg: NOTHING! No nomination for best drama or best writing or best directing--even multiple-Emmy winner Bryan Cranston got the shaft!
Well, people, this will not stand! We know that the Emmys--like all awards, really--are really political and we should not be offended by the inexplicable lack of any semblance of taste on the part of its nominating committee.
(DIGRESSION: We mean no offense to the other nominees, including "Dexter," "Mad Men," "Game of Thrones," "Boardwalk Empire," and "The Good Wife"--actually, scratch that, we DO mean offense to "The Good Wife." We've never seen it, but no way in hell is it better than "Breaking Bad." EOD)
Still, when a masterpiece like "Breaking Bad" gets dissed so completely, we cannot help but rail against what Monty Python might call the "typical Philistine pig ignorance we've come to expect from you non-creative garbage." If "Breaking Bad" is not worthy of consideration, then there is no sense whatsoever in claiming that these awards reflect anything other than the crass, inscrutable preferences of a group of troglodytic mouth-breathers who should have their licenses to think--or live!--revoked. Flogging is too good for these morons! If stupidity were a fuel, these folks could power the entire West Coast electrical grid until the second coming! If bad taste were a Nobel category, these loutish wormspawn would be on their way to Sweden! If--
What's that?
Oh.
Heh. Ahem.
We've just been informed that, because of its broadcasting schedule, "Breaking Bad" was not eligible for the Emmys at this time. The season that begins on Sunday will be in the running next year.
Well. So. . . . Anyway. . . . How about that Hugh Laurie?
This is so humiliating.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Why We Love "Breaking Bad"
One of our favorite filmmakers is the Coen Brothers. (Yes, we know there are two of them, but they're a two-for-one deal). "Miller's Crossing," "Fargo," "The Big Lebowski". . . the list goes on and on. As you can imagine, then, we adore the television show the Coen Brothers produced(even if they were calling themselves Vince Gilligan when they came up with it), "Breaking Bad."
We just finished watching season 3 on DVD, and we have concluded that, right now, "Breaking Bad" is quite simply the best show on television.
Let's start with the acting. We have raved in this space about two-time Emmy-Award winner Bryan Cranston. Over the last three seasons, we have watched his character, Walter White, transform from mild-mannered high-school chemistry teacher to hardened, take-no-prisoners mastermind in the Southwestern drug trade. His performance is seamless. And as good as Cranston is, he is supported by an ensemble that provides acting lessons week in and week out.
The two other central characters in the show are Walt's wife, Skyler (Anna Gunn), and Walt's on-again-off-again partner in meth production, Jesse Pinkman (Emmy winner Aaron Paul). Like Walt, these characters have sweeping story arcs. Skyler spends the first two seasons pregnant, struggling to support Walt as he faces terminal cancer yet at the same time wondering where the money for his treatment comes from and worrying about his increasingly erratic behavior. When she discovers Walt's secret life, she is torn between her impulse to turn him in or at least distance herself from him and her realization that he has, after all, adopted criminality as a way to provide for his family after his inevitable death.
Jesse undergoes even greater transformations. When we first meet him, he is a lowlife high-school dropout selling chili-pepper infused meth on the streets of Albuquerque. When he partners with Walt, he begins to develop a sense of pride and professionalism in his criminal pursuits: If you're going to cook meth, it might as well be the best meth possible. After witnessing the death-by-overdose of his true love, Jesse gets clean, but rather than turning over a new leaf, the newly sober Jesse becomes even more coldly rational and efficient in his criminal planning. . . .
Except.
Even while implementing a plan to sell drugs to members of a recovery group, Jesse becomes outraged--truly, morally outraged--when he hears of a gang using children as hitmen and drug-runners. When he confronts Walt about his own complicity in these activities--"Are you OK with this?!?"--the moral center of the show has completely shifted from the former upstanding citizen to the junkie drug dealer. It is no mean feat for a television show to pull off such a smooth and, yes, believable transition.
Among the supporting cast, Bob Odenkirk plays Saul Goodman, Walt and Jesse's criminal defense lawyer--which is to say their defense lawyer who is, himself, thoroughly criminal. Never has a sleazy lawyer been so enjoyable to watch. Giancarlo Esposito is terrifying as Gustavo Fring, an apparently upstanding pillar of the community who also happens to be the biggest drug kingpin in the Southwest. And in season 3, we see quite a lot of Jonathan Banks as Mike, Gustavo's enforcer/fixer, who in an episode entitled "Half Measures" recites one of the best monologues we've heard on television.
In recent years, long-form dramas have frequently been compared to novels. "Breaking Bad" is the most classically novelistic of these shows. For three years, we have watched the unfolding of one single story. The very first episode provides the tale's unambiguous starting point: Walter White's diagnosis with terminal cancer. Eveything that subsequently occurs follows like a series of dominos knocked over by that first moment. Furthermore, in the story's beginning, is the embryo of what we can only assume will be the show's end: Walt's death. The man is living on borrowed time. In season 3 his cancer seems to be in temporary remission, but we the viewers know that Walt will most likely die in the end. We ache for him as he struggles to do what he can for his family. And, religious or not, we feel terror for the state of Walt's soul: How far down the road to perdition will he travel? Would it be better for him to die before whatever decency he once possessed is gone for good?
Aside from these questions, the most fascinating aspect of the series is the ever-shifting relationship between Walt and Jesse. They have a partnership, a friendship, even a sort of father-son dynamic--and at times they also truly despise each other. Whatever their relationship, though, it is apparent these two men have--in a show that often deals with chemistry--an unbreakable electromegnetic bond. What they are willing to do for each other makes the ending of season 3 one of the most thrilling cliffhangers in TV history.
Some people we have spoken to express reluctance to watch "Breaking Bad." They are turned off by its depiction (though we hasten to mention--not its glorification) of the world of meth dealers and junkies. We acknowledge that the show can be brutal at times. Nevertheless, if you have not already started watching this show, we suggest you give it a try. Season 4 starts a week from Sunday. We suspect, if you get your hands on the DVDs of seasons 1-3, you will watch them very quickly. The most addictive thing in "Breaking Bad" is not the meth, it's the show itself.
We just finished watching season 3 on DVD, and we have concluded that, right now, "Breaking Bad" is quite simply the best show on television.
Let's start with the acting. We have raved in this space about two-time Emmy-Award winner Bryan Cranston. Over the last three seasons, we have watched his character, Walter White, transform from mild-mannered high-school chemistry teacher to hardened, take-no-prisoners mastermind in the Southwestern drug trade. His performance is seamless. And as good as Cranston is, he is supported by an ensemble that provides acting lessons week in and week out.
The two other central characters in the show are Walt's wife, Skyler (Anna Gunn), and Walt's on-again-off-again partner in meth production, Jesse Pinkman (Emmy winner Aaron Paul). Like Walt, these characters have sweeping story arcs. Skyler spends the first two seasons pregnant, struggling to support Walt as he faces terminal cancer yet at the same time wondering where the money for his treatment comes from and worrying about his increasingly erratic behavior. When she discovers Walt's secret life, she is torn between her impulse to turn him in or at least distance herself from him and her realization that he has, after all, adopted criminality as a way to provide for his family after his inevitable death.
Jesse undergoes even greater transformations. When we first meet him, he is a lowlife high-school dropout selling chili-pepper infused meth on the streets of Albuquerque. When he partners with Walt, he begins to develop a sense of pride and professionalism in his criminal pursuits: If you're going to cook meth, it might as well be the best meth possible. After witnessing the death-by-overdose of his true love, Jesse gets clean, but rather than turning over a new leaf, the newly sober Jesse becomes even more coldly rational and efficient in his criminal planning. . . .
Except.
Even while implementing a plan to sell drugs to members of a recovery group, Jesse becomes outraged--truly, morally outraged--when he hears of a gang using children as hitmen and drug-runners. When he confronts Walt about his own complicity in these activities--"Are you OK with this?!?"--the moral center of the show has completely shifted from the former upstanding citizen to the junkie drug dealer. It is no mean feat for a television show to pull off such a smooth and, yes, believable transition.
Among the supporting cast, Bob Odenkirk plays Saul Goodman, Walt and Jesse's criminal defense lawyer--which is to say their defense lawyer who is, himself, thoroughly criminal. Never has a sleazy lawyer been so enjoyable to watch. Giancarlo Esposito is terrifying as Gustavo Fring, an apparently upstanding pillar of the community who also happens to be the biggest drug kingpin in the Southwest. And in season 3, we see quite a lot of Jonathan Banks as Mike, Gustavo's enforcer/fixer, who in an episode entitled "Half Measures" recites one of the best monologues we've heard on television.
In recent years, long-form dramas have frequently been compared to novels. "Breaking Bad" is the most classically novelistic of these shows. For three years, we have watched the unfolding of one single story. The very first episode provides the tale's unambiguous starting point: Walter White's diagnosis with terminal cancer. Eveything that subsequently occurs follows like a series of dominos knocked over by that first moment. Furthermore, in the story's beginning, is the embryo of what we can only assume will be the show's end: Walt's death. The man is living on borrowed time. In season 3 his cancer seems to be in temporary remission, but we the viewers know that Walt will most likely die in the end. We ache for him as he struggles to do what he can for his family. And, religious or not, we feel terror for the state of Walt's soul: How far down the road to perdition will he travel? Would it be better for him to die before whatever decency he once possessed is gone for good?
Aside from these questions, the most fascinating aspect of the series is the ever-shifting relationship between Walt and Jesse. They have a partnership, a friendship, even a sort of father-son dynamic--and at times they also truly despise each other. Whatever their relationship, though, it is apparent these two men have--in a show that often deals with chemistry--an unbreakable electromegnetic bond. What they are willing to do for each other makes the ending of season 3 one of the most thrilling cliffhangers in TV history.
Some people we have spoken to express reluctance to watch "Breaking Bad." They are turned off by its depiction (though we hasten to mention--not its glorification) of the world of meth dealers and junkies. We acknowledge that the show can be brutal at times. Nevertheless, if you have not already started watching this show, we suggest you give it a try. Season 4 starts a week from Sunday. We suspect, if you get your hands on the DVDs of seasons 1-3, you will watch them very quickly. The most addictive thing in "Breaking Bad" is not the meth, it's the show itself.
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