[Editor's Note: SPOILER ALERT! This story reveals details of Sunday's September 8 episode of Breaking Bad.]
Can we all just take a moment to acknowledge the absolute perfection we are witnessing with the final season of
Breaking Bad?
Last night's episode was yet another
tour de force in a final season that far surpasses that of any other show, and more and more people are joining a consensus that loyal
Breaking Bad fans have known all along: we just might be watching the best TV drama ever.
Too bold a statement? Maybe a tad subjective? Perhaps. But while other people stood and cheered for the Cowboys/Giants game last night, this particular fan was standing, pacing, yelling at his television over an episode of a
serialized TV drama. And it was far from the first time that has happened with this show. That's because this story, more than any other in TV history, has executed a singular, focused vision, without hitting a single wrong note or losing the ability to amaze and surprise.
Just look at the brilliance of last night's episode. Fans of this show got to see the two cathartic moments they've been asking for all along. One, the conclusion of a Hank vs. Walter showdown. Two, the conclusion of a Jesse vs. Walter showdown. You asked for it, you got it.
How satisfying-yet-scary did it feel when Hank sent Walt to his knees? How proud were you when Hank read Walt his Mirandas? Or how about the tension on Jesse's face, disbelieving, unable to breathe until the cuffs were finally snapped on Walt's wrists? Better still, watching Jesse spit into the face of his tormenter. Emotionally, it hit every beat I needed it to hit for the series to satisfy me. And, oh wait, that's right...
There are still three episodes left. It is so rare in this world that something so groundbreaking and new ever fully lives up to its potential, and I think that -- before this TV series reaches its end -- we should all pause and reflect on that.
This is my prime reason for defending the old model of television and scorning the Netflix binge-watching method. This show is unfolding, week by week, in real time, right before our eyes, and it is nothing short of a masterpiece. How fun is it to enjoy, and discuss, and theorize about it, employing the rare faith in its creator that it will stay this fulfilling until the final moment? I can only imagine this is the feeling Beatles fans got in the Sixties when album after mind-blowing album was released. It's like watching an all-star quarterback in the final minutes of a game, fully confident that he is leading your team to victory.
In pure storytelling ability --strictly measuring enjoyment -- there really isn't another show on the level of Breaking Bad. I've always classified it as an "Option 3" show: they'll lead you into moments where your brain can only process the idea of two possible outcomes. Option 1, he's caught. Option 2, he escapes. Right?
But then, Vince Gilligan and his writing team introduce Option 3, something that afterward might even seem inevitable, but never predictable. But more important, Gilligan has publicly scoffed at the auteur style of storytelling. He leads with collaboration, respects input, and understands that the piece of art he has created is larger than himself. He also has a humbled respect for his audience that is more distinguishing than you might think.
Take, for example, the ending of the current title-holder for "Best-Written Drama of All Time": The Sopranos. Regardless of how you interpret the final cut-to-black, the ending in general always felt, suspiciously, like it satisfied its creator more than its audience. In a way, it was like being put to bed early by a cold, neglectful parent, sick of telling stories.
Conversely, look at the ending to a show like Lost. If David Chase was a neglectful parent, the Lost writers were the drunken lush parents who promised adventure and magical activities, only to forget about their promises the next morning. Their final season felt like an obsequious rush to fulfill message board expectations, only to realize that their original idea for an ending was probably best, even if, at that point, it made little sense.
But here, with Breaking Bad, we have the rarest thing. A show that hasn't taken a true misstep yet, three episodes from a creatively wide-open finale, having already hit nearly every beat that could possibly be desired, helmed by a man to whom viewer satisfaction seems paramount. If Gilligan and his writers can stick this final landing, and do what they have done a million times before, they are taking home the gold medal, and cementing themselves atop the canon of great television.
Now, before I mix any more analogies, let us get back to the matter at hand. At the closing of Sunday's most recent episode, Walt is in a car that is getting blown to pieces. Jesse is in another car, ten yards away. Hank and Agent Gomez are completely outgunned by Todd and his crew, and probably out of ammo, facing what should most certainly be their end. Immediately, we think Hank is going to die, right? It would be tragic, but acceptable. At least he got to cuff Heisenberg before he went out, right? And from the looks of it, the cavalry's not coming, and there's nowhere to go.
Or is there? The writer in me can think of only one way for Hank to stay alive and escape: pull open the truck's door, and put a gun to Walt's head. Walt's brain, after all, is the most important thing to everyone in that desert, and no one wants to see it go just yet. Stop the shooting, hop in the car with Gomie, and high-tail it out, leaving Jesse to his fate. Or, hell, walk back to the other car with Walt as a shield and drive the whole team away. I'm not sure. It seems like that might be the only option, short of an unlikely negotiation. Take Walt hostage, or die.
But then, of course, I've been a fan of this show for too long to believe that. I'm betting it's Option 3.