GOOD BREAKING BAD
by Daren Foster

***TV: when it's good, it's bad. Breaking Bad.***

As I sat watching Malcolm in the Middle’s dad fleeing the law in a beat up Winnebago, dressed only in his underwear in the opening scene of Breaking Bad, I thought how bad could this series be? I mean, there’s Malcolm in the Middle’s dad, still in his underwear, now standing beside the Winnebago that he’s just ditched, gun pointed toward the direction of the oncoming sirens! Seriously. Where could this series possibly go from there? Not that it mattered because I would be watching regardless.

Unlike in nearly every other facet of my life, my instincts didn’t fail me on this one. Breaking Bad is all that and a bag of curried chicken flavoured crisps. A messy, uneven, hysterically funny and jaw-clenchingly nasty show, it lacks the smoothness of its AMC network stable mate, Mad Men, and other high end cable series, sharing more of the rough edged sensibilities of The Shield but with none of the ends-justify-the-means, reactionary attitude. It lurches forward with wild abandon and wallows inert in indecision and self-reflection in equal measure. Breaking Bad makes a regular habit of defying expectation which is why it’s found far from the confines of network TV. That and of course, the drug use. And the meth whores. And the brutal violence. And Malcolm in the Middle’s dad in his underwear.

Despite its waywardness from the immutable tenets of episodic television, Breaking Bad is built on a foundation of clichés. The lead character is a dispirited middle-aged high school chemistry teacher working a second job at a carwash to help make ends meet when he is diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. He has a pregnant wife and a teenage son with cerebral palsy and no life savings to ensure them a stable future. Cajoled out on a drug bust with his DEA brother-in-law in order to add a little spice to his life, he spots a former student fleeing the scene and later seeks him out to learn about the financial details of making and selling crystal meth. You see, chemistry teacher (and hinted at untapped genius) chemically manufacturing an illicit drug solely for the purposes of providing for his family after he’s gone.

Breaking Bad shouldn’t work, weighted down as it is in such shop-worn stock situations and coincidences that could only flow from a writer’s pen. (Truth makes claims to be stranger than fiction on the rare occasions it adheres to obvious narrative structures generated by thousands of years of trial and error by storytellers.) Yet, it does. Like other serialized cable shows, it takes its time finding a sure-footed rhythm which is an iffy proposition given the first season order of only seven episodes. It’s not until the fourth episode that Breaking Bad truly takes flight, leaving the more impatient viewers with thumbs a-twitching, wondering if a series hadn’t caught their fancy halfway through its debut season maybe it just wasn’t worth the effort. Too bad for them they bailed but serves them right for being so attention depleted.

Much of the reason the show works as well as it does rests squarely on the weight-of-the-world imposed slumped shoulders of Bryan Cranston (Malcolm’s dad). His Walter White is an absolute lesson in actorly range. Disappointment, fear and surrender battle with a newfound sense of freedom, which comes with the realization that in being terminally ill, he’s a man with nothing left to lose. Cranston calibrates potentially melodramatic moments masterfully, counterbalancing each explosion of rage with shocked withdrawals of remorse and dismay. Called upon to show wilful pride and deep insecurity, oftentimes in the same scene, he pulls it off seamlessly.

None of this should come as any surprise. As the always put upon dad with the perpetual Ralph Cramden streak of get rich schemes going astray in Malcolm in the Middle, Cranston consistently rose above the material he was given, especially as the series deflated from the absurdly funny to the humourlessly ridiculous. No matter how outrageous the scenario, Cranston was always able to inject a degree of believability.

This is not to say Cranston’s performance is the only one worth watching in Breaking Bad. Across the board, the cast is strong. RJ Mitte’s CP afflicted son, Walter Jr., is an understated charmer. And as Walt’s former student and present day partner in crime, Jesse Pinkman, Aaron Paul beautifully delivers a funny, tightly wound, street smart but book dumb, always put upon character. Breaking Bad also introduces one of the best and most disturbing over-the-top, meth induced thugs television has seen in quite some time with Raymond Cruz’s Tuco.

Until his appearance in the penultimate episode of season one, the whole moral issue (or lack thereof) of dealing drugs had been largely played for laughs albeit dark, dark, should-I-really-be-laughing kind of laughter. Tuco forces both Walt and the audience to come face-to-face with the implications of his illegal actions. Not even by rationalizing himself as a man doing bad things for good reasons can shield Walt from the fact that he’s become a cog in a life-and-death business of a highly addictive substance that ruins and takes lives. By the end of season one, Walt bears witness to the dreadful truth that he’s not simply breaking the law in order to take care of his family. He’s crossed deep over to the dark side and may not be able to find his way back.

Breaking Bad’s second season began during most interesting times. After nearly 30 years of the self-righteously declared War on Drugs™©®, we almost reflexively point a judgmental finger at those involved on the wrong side of the conflict; even a character like Walter White who is merely trying to provide for his family after he’s gone. He and his nefarious cohorts are seen as laying waste and bringing misery to a segment of society already hard hit by the most serious economic downturn in a couple of generations. These villainous predators are a blight on society. Yet, we turn on the TV news or open a newspaper (if we can find one) to see that perpetrators of economic high crimes grant themselves bonuses using taxpayer bailout money while sitting pretty and influencing how we attempt to fix a system they played a major part in breaking. (Broke It Bad.) It is a murky morality we live in. Breaking Bad is a highly entertaining product of the times.