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The Realism of Breaking Bad

Is Breaking Bad realistic? Let’s hear what the creator and showrunner of the show says:

Realism is very important on Breaking Bad. To me, realism is important even if you’re making a super-hero movie. You get the one “buy”, the guy can fly or whatever. You want everything else to be believable.

– Vince Gilligan

Power through character

Like any good television, Breaking Bad is about characters more than story. Realism on the show starts with the people it represents.
Continuing to quote Vince Gilligan on the subject:

First and foremost, you want human behavior to be believable. You want people to behave as human beings as we know and understand. Anyone out there, writer or not is an excellent judge of human behavior. You know when to call bullshit on behavior that seems “writerly” and seems made-up just in order to hit a certain plot point.

There’s a lot of plot in the show, but it’s primarily a study about these characters. A lot of the time spent in the writers’ room is talking about who these people are. What makes them tick. The best watercooler moments of the show are always the controversial decisions made by the characters. Why did they do that?

Breaking Bad Fly
The show always finds great ways to explore their characters. Although we did not mention it in yesterday’s post, it could be said that the play-like episodes (or bottle shows) peppered across the series were experiments in their own right.
Going back to Vince Gilligan’s thoughts:

I feel as a showrunner that there should be a certain shape and pace to each season, and the really high highs that you try to get to at the end of a season — the big dramatic moments of action and violence, the big operatic moments you’re striving for — I don’t think would land as hard if you didn’t have the moments of quiet that came before them. The quiet episodes make the tenser, more dramatic episodes pop even more than they usually would just by their contrast.

Every year, Breaking Bad had one bottle episode, usually between Walt and Jesse. One of the most well-known is the infamous Breaking Bad Fly episode (3×10), also known as “Waiting for Godot in a meth lab”. Walt is constipated emotionally, and you can talk ad nauseum about how the fly symbolizes his ongoing loss of control (through Gus Fring). The production reason for doing such an episode is, obviously, to save money. In fact, the show had pretty much run out of its yearly budget by that point. Regardless, this one-on-one was a great way to put out in the open the emotional toll previous events had on the two leads. There’s always new ways of deconstructing these people and their intentions. The series even went so far as to explore the likes of Skinny Pete, Badger, and even Wendy, which are tertiary characters.

In a typical cop show, the hero kills a bunch of bad guys, and then goes on with his life as if nothing happened. Breaking Bad characters change. Hank dealt in the second season with accrued PTSD after his shoot-out with Tuco. A season later, he then had to go through physical therapy after getting shot. The character had a permanent walking problem, even up to his final episode. There is no reset button in the series, and no magic wand to speed things through, even if it’s something that will take multiple episode to go through (if not the remainder of the show). These are the sort of storylines that would get glossed over elsewhere, with a focus on the “dramatic moments”. The reality of Breaking Bad‘s world is the reality of its characters. What matters is what they go through. Drama begins and ends with them.

Full measures

Breaking Bad has had one of the best crew on TV thanks to their commitment to the finished product. “Best idea wins” is now a common trope in writers room (rightfully so), but this show is perhaps the current epitome of the phrase.

Cinematic perspective

One of the things Gilligan took away from his experience on X-Files was one of Chris Carter’s rules: have a visual point-of-view.
What is the image you’ll retain from the scene? From the episode?

Breaking Bad Mike Walt
Perhaps also because of his feature screenwriting background, Vince Gilligan completely embraced this idea on Bad. The show is clearly thought-out on a writing and acting level, but also through its directing and visuals. The many directors on the show, from Michelle MacLaren to Ryan Johnson, and cinematographers (namely Michael Slovis), have done an extraordinary job at embracing that ideal.
Color palette, long shots, wide angles, silent scenes, fast-paced montages, stylized shots. There is quite a long list of visual elements that are now associated with Breaking Bad. The point behind is always to try and convey the stylistic reality of the environment. As Vince himself explained, whether you’re working with TV or movies, it’s all the same: motion pictures. You need to realistically tell the story on a visual level.

The devil and details

Breaking Bad is TV subtlety at its finest. It underplays its big reveals. One of the best examples of this is in season four, where several moments surreptitiously hinted at Walt being the one who poisoned Brock (before the actual revelation in the last seconds of the finale). Like any good mystery, even prior to the last scene, there were ways of figuring it all out. You can even check out this thread by a redditor that uncovered the clues prior to the season’s finale. Sometimes moments become self-evident only after the facts, like in life. Hindsight.

Breaking Bad Lilly Prediction
One of the show’s greatest strengths is its capacity to rarely (if ever) have loose ends. Of course, the writers sit around and talk about the details of each episodes. Not only on a visual level, and characters, but (evidently) with the story itself. As the sprawling plots developed, so did the time spent breaking each episode. In the second season, the writers took about ten to twelve days to break an episode. By the final season, it came down to about a month each. The more dangling threads you have to resolve, the more time you spend going deeper.
Ted was brought back into the fold in season four, after apparently disappearing with money issues two years prior. Not only was his plotline resolved in that season (through Skylar almost bailing him out), but more importantly it tied directly to Walt’s ultimate demise (in “Crawl Space”). Just because something seems in the background at first doesn’t mean it isn’t relevant. Breaking Bad is great at connecting these dots in an intrinsic way.

Breathing in the world

You cannot talk about Bad‘s realism without at least mentioning its portrayal of chemistry and the drug trade. Quite a few articles have been written on the subject, so I won’t really delve much into what is real vs. made-up. Rather, I wanted to briefly talk about the heightened sense of reality of its world.
Breaking Bad is a slow burn. It takes its time to flesh out its characters, but also the stories it presents (while twisting expectations). Even from a popularity standpoint, it took pretty much half the series’ lifespan to garner its current cult status.

Breaking Bad Cousins Bell
The show was hyper-serialized, and given its time-frame (one year within the story), it couldn’t afford being “ripped from headlines” topical. Nonetheless, it was still relevant. We’ve already seen how the series embraced its everyday roots by showing the “moments between the moments”. And the show proved to be even more receptive to its cartel storylines. Most notably, in the second season, the now-iconic image of a drug informant getting beheaded (and later put on a tortoise). “Extreme” moments that are, actually, completely believable (and similarly happened later in real life). Another great example of an atypical sequence is Los Cuates de Sinaloa’s narcocorrido track inspired by Heisenberg in 2×07 (“Negro Y Azul”). Narcocorridos are traditional Mexican songs with lyrics usually inspired by illegal criminal activities, often cartel-related. Although not a music genre well-known in the States, it nonetheless cements his story within the “real world”.

We all remember the long, silent scenes, often punctuated by Dave Porter’s music. People might see these scenes as out there, but here’s a clear “flavor” to the series, and the way it portrays its hyper-real world, which in turn reflects its characters. So how realistic is Breaking Bad? Breaking Bad is believable not only because of its characters, but because of its realistic context. The people are put in dramatic and heightened situations that feel real because, on some level, they are real.

Bending Without Breaking (Bad): Experiment in TV Telling

The experiment [of Breaking Bad] is that it’s a show about change. It’s a show about transformation and process. It’s a show where our hero, our main character, becomes our bad guy. Our protagonist transforms himself into an antagonist.

– Vince Gilligan

Justifying evil

If you had to name one thing to describe the show, it would be its main character. A good guy that “breaks bad”. Mr. Chips gone Scarface.
The show has embraced its premise, and went probably beyond anyone’s “hopes and dreams”. And it’s all thanks to one thing: it makes sense. Walt’s transformation into Heisenberg is, on some level, understandable. His ego was, bit by bit, eating him away, as he was going down an inescapable rabbit hole. We were with him as he was slowly losing his humanity.

three heisenbergs
In my mind, the irrevocable turning point was when he watches Jane die at the end of 2×12 (“Phoenix”). Standing by, as an innocent woman chokes to death, he reacts very emotionally to that moment (albeit with no one to notice). A season later (3×12 – “Half Measures”), he directly kills two “bad” people with his car (and gun). Adrenaline is pumping through his veins. He dryly tells Jesse: “run”. Down the line, a further season after (4×13 – “Face Off”), it is revealed he is the cause of the (near-)demise of an innocent child (Brock). By that point, he is completely removed from the act itself, oblivious to the pain he has caused. All that matters is that he has won.
From witness to perpetrator, Walter White has been replaced by Heisenberg.

This fall from grace can directly be tied back to his ego, and specifically a moment in the first season where he refuses to take up on an offer from his (ex-)friend Elliot Schwartz.
To quote Vince Gilligan himself on the matter:

One of our finest moments was not necessarily one of our most dramatic. But in the writers’ room during the first season, we did an episode – only our fifth episode – where we offered a Deus Ex Machina moment to Walter White. We basically had a savior, a white knight, come to Walter White in the form of Elliott Schwartz, his former friend and lab partner who is now a millionaire, running an enormous scientific research company.
And Elliott comes to Walt and says, ‘I’ve heard about your cancer, I’m going to pay for your medical treatment, I’m going to pay the full freight on it, and I’m going to give you a job, anything you want – I just want to do right by you and help you and help your family…’ And instead of taking this life preserver that’s been thrown to him, Walt decides to go back to cooking crystal meth, and that’s one of my favorite moments and one of the most important moments in the life of the show, because prior to that I don’t think the writers and I truly understood Walter White.
We didn’t understand that he was a creature of such pride and such damaged ego that he would rather be his own man and endanger his family’s life than take a handout like that. He’s that kind of a guy. Prior to that Walter White was basically a good but mislead guy with bad decision-making skills. He was going to make money, and then what was going to happen to keep him cooking meth? The money was going to get stolen, so he’d have to cook more meth… we came to realize truly what we had in that fifth episode.

As Vince explained, the gamble of Breaking Bad was to create an antagonist out of a protagonist. He expected viewership to drastically dip as the series continued. The exact opposite happened.
To this day, a lot of people still root for Walter White, even during his darkest moments. The character isn’t necessarily likeable, but he is justifiable. This is a guy who deludes himself about what he does, and why he does what he thinks he does. The morality and goodness of Walter White/Heisenberg is beyond ambiguous at this point. Yet, every person has a different opinion on the matter. Is he a good man? Is he a good provider? This is about justifying the unjustifiable.
You could write many essays on what drives Walt to do the things he do. You could even track his mental state in every scene, and see his evolution into an anti-hero. What made the show such a tour de force, and Walt such an amazing character, was that neither were unilaterally hopeless. Rather, they offered a view of one man falling prey to his own pride.

The perspective of Breaking Bad was not one of story, or even action, it was one of motivation. Why are these people doing the things they’re doing?

Expecting the unexpected

Breaking Bad takes what you expect, and then confronts it. A recent example of this is the climactic encounter between Hank and Walt at the end of 5×09 (“Blood Money”). A few people were surprised at how “soon” it happened, however the series was never about one man chasing after the other. In fact, if it were not for Dean Norris’ performance, Hank would have probably had more of a background role.
Going back to the scene in question, the “twist” on the expected isn’t how soon it happened, rather what happened in it. The two men are superficially talking about Hank’s well-being as he stays home. Walt has come all the way over there to (unofficially) check how far he is into the Heisenberg investigation he is. A lot of things are left unsaid. Until…the moment where Walt steps back into the garage. And Hank closes the garage door behind him.
Any other show would cut to black at this point. Not Breaking Bad. The show pushes the scene ever further, and goes all-out with this confrontation, mano-a-mano. The cat is let out of the bag. Five seasons of drama finally let loose. Everyone is aware of what they’re working with, so there’s no reason to play coy with the drama.

Breaking Bad Parking Lot
Two season earlier, Tucco’s cousins arrive in town to kill Heisenberg. Expectations were high for them: they were being framed as season three’s main bad guys (or at least characters surviving more than a few episodes). By the second episode, they’re already at Walt’s home and are on the verge of killing him. By the seventh episode (mid-season), a shoot-out happens between the cousins and Hank, effectively ending their existence. In most shows, this would have been a finale, or penultimate episode, with their arc lasting an entire season. Not Breaking Bad. The show knows when to pull the trigger, both literally and figuratively, on its storylines.

After 4×11 (“Crawl Space”) aired, I tweeted: “TV hasn’t felt this intense in…ever?” Piece by piece, throughout the year, the series had slowly build up to the insurmountable wall now facing Walt. It seemed like Skylar’s plot of giving money away to Ted was irrelevant to the larger story, it was in fact a key part of it. Same goes of Saul’s disappearer.
The show has never ended a season on a bona fide cliffhanger (Hank pooping was mid-season). Admittedly, you wanted to know what happened to the characters (especially after the third season), but most threads were usually closed by season’s end. What maintained people’s desire to come back was the universe itself, not answers to key mysteries. Each season became progressively intense because of its own internal dynamic, not because of a compound effect where the preceding year’s dangling threads were being paid off. The only exception being the final season (specifically its second half) and the beginning of season four (following the murder of Gale Boetticher).

Breaking Bad went against the grain by declaring it was okay to disregard the conventional rules of the genre. What matters most are the characters.

The moments between the moments

Breaking Bad started out on a much lower scale than it now is at. Although the series is going back full-circle to its roots, it merely started out around a high-school teacher and his family. Then came Tucco, the cousins, the cartel, Gus, the DEA, and neo-nazis. Heisenberg’s empire evolved, it expanded, and so did the show.

Breaking Bad Walt Birthday
Beyond the thriller, Breaking Bad was about the “moments between moments”. Most shows focus on the big moments where “stuff happens”, and everything in between is filler. But this series was never about dramatic shoot-outs, or even box-cutter throat-slicing. It all started with small moments, daily life. Birthdays, breakfasts, school assemblies, awkward parties hosted by “old friends”, house-hunting, PTA meetings. You may remember the action sequences in retrospect, but before that you need the calm before the storm. Bad was constantly reasserting itself around what mattered: smaller scenes, not epic set-pieces.

The show took the time to breathe and embrace the real world around it, and feed the humanity of its characters. Consequences and repercussions mattered because of the time spent at building these relationships, this status quo being broken apart. Like a steady hand on the wheel, it knew where it was heading towards. It was spending its time on meaningful moments. Bad was about real emotions, real greed, real jealousy, real fear. All of it stemming from smaller scales. The series was not trying to milk these moments, it was trying to establish context. Even in the craziness of season five, you still had family moments and humorous moments, like Skinny Pete and Badger’s Star Trek conversation.

Breaking Bad‘s ultimate experiment, beyond its characters, was to question the middle ground between consequence and justification.
This was a show about lives and decisions.

The Failings of Breaking Bad

Much has been said about Breaking Bad over the past few months. Virtually all praise. As a matter of fact, I adore the show (hence this entire week of articles).
Before we get to the adulation and deconstruction of why this is such a ground-breaking show, I thought it was important to at least talk about some of the (few) problems it has. This isn’t needless bashing, as I’m not here to denigrate the oft-lauded classic traits of the show (e.g. cinematography, directing, montages, etc.). The article is about storytelling points I’ve had issue with.
I’ll be getting pretty critical on some specific aspects of the show in this column, so please don’t get upset. I still love Bad.
Warning: I’ll be talking about everything up to the pre-finale, so beware if you haven’t seen the final season (five).

Hinting at nothing

We’ll see later this week how one of the show’s greatest strengths is to “bathe in the mystery”. However, there has been one occasion of a tease that, not only didn’t payoff in a satisfying manner, but felt like an unnecessary lead on.
I’m of course talking about the season two flashforwards. Before the bearded Walt from season five, we had a black-and-white pool with a pink teddy bear. That damn teddy!

Breaking Bad Pool
As a fervent viewer of the show since day one, that season two buildup was one of the biggest cock-teases in recent TV history. It wasn’t as bad as Lost‘s smoke monster, or Battlestar Galactica‘s Cylon plan, but for a season-long mystery, it was definitely a miniature version.
It may not play out the same now, as you binge-watch the show, but when it came to a weekly viewing, the resolution of such an extended teasing was nothing short of a slap in the face.
To recap the storyline, I’ll quote the Breaking Bad Wiki:

As teasers, they led to the illusion that there had been a tragic event, possibly a meth related explosion at Walter White’s house as authorities in hazmat outfits are seen collecting personal effects and placing them in evidence bags along other damaged items. Amongst the items are a pair of eyeglasses similar to Walter’s. Adding to the illusion that a fire was involved, a scorched pink teddy bear, the main focus of each teaser, is the only item seen in color. An overhead shot of Walt’s Pontiac Aztek with a damaged front windshield and emergency personnel in hazmat outfits close the zipper on a pair of white body bags. The shot pans upwards and fades into a full color wide shot depicting two large pillars of black smoke that are billowing in the distance behind Walt’s house. The teasers actually depict the aftermath of the mid-air collision of a Boeing 737 commercial airliner, Wayfarer 515 and a chartered plane.

(Fun fact: the episodes with the flahforwards have their combined titles spell out “Seven Thirty-Seven Down Over ABQ”.)

Four years ago, I talked about how binge-watching serialized shows virtually erases any viewer frustration from dead-ends or poorly planned plotlines. But this isn’t exactly the same.
Ironically, season two of Breaking Bad was the only one completely planned-out from the get-go, as the writers were breaking stories. I say ironically in that the conclusion was so ridiculously irrelevant and pointless that one could have made it up on the spot. Yes, I’m already aware of the symbolic behind the dramatic “crash”. I’m talking about how it (doesn’t) serve the storytelling itself.
Had there been no flashforwards, perhaps this wouldn’t be an issue in the first place. Yet the writers made a deliberate decision of having these teasers hinting at something bigger. And it ended up being a “gotcha!” moment.
Again, I understand the point of the final scene, but what I don’t really understand is why the peppered flashforwards were needed throughout the season. It’s as if they didn’t trust that their already-compelling narrative would be enough to sustain a week-to-week viewing. I don’t need a hook to watch a Breaking Bad episode.

Spoiling and treading

Hands-down, my single biggest issue with the entire run of Breaking Bad is the first half of season five, aka the first half of the final season.
And it all starts with another egregious use of a flashforward: the opening of 5×01 (“Live Free or Die”).
Like the pool flashforwards from season two, it seems the writers were attempting at teasing towards something consequential happening in the near future of the show (albeit this time with an actual payoff — the end).
Unlike the “crashforwards” that didn’t lead to anything, this latest example actually reveals too much. I had (almost) nothing negative to say about the show, up until that damn opening.

Breaking Bad Future Walt
A 52-year-old Walter White Lambert enters a Denny’s to buy a “say hello to my little friend” machine gun. New identity. No wedding ring. Back on meds. Alone.
In the span of four minutes, the show has already spoiled to its audience how it ends. A full year and fifteen episodes in advance.
As soon as I saw that 5×01 opening, I was afraid that they were showing us what amounted to the series finale (or what came right before it). They had spent a single year (in-world) on five seasons, and the flashforward occurred a further year after that. In other words, it didn’t seem like they would have time to cover such an amount in just a few episodes.
I was hoping I was wrong, that they would get to that point by the half-season. They didn’t.
I compare it to this “what if” scenario in Battlestar Galactica (spoiler alert): if season 4 (final season; also cut in half) had started with a flashforward of the BSG crew on the second Earth (i.e. the green pastures from the series finale), then their arrival would have been devoid of its emotional impact (at least most of it).
Same thing with Breaking Bad. You could easily connect the dots, from his cancer returning, to him using Saul’s disappearer from the fourth season, the loss of his family, and his revenge kick.

Even worse, they spent the entire half-season around a tertiary plotline (Madrigal/Vamonos Pest), which had virtually nothing to do with the overarching series stakes in Walter White’s story (especially after that flashforward).
To go back to my BSG analogy, had the show used the Green Earth flashforward, the first half of the season would have felt like a waste of time, and fans would have been pissed. “Who cares about this fake/desolate grey Earth? I want to get to the real one you showed us!”
Despite four Breaking Bad seasons of great pacing, that first half of season five was almost complete filler. For the first time, Breaking Bad was stalling.

The “point” of that half-season was to get Walt to quit his empire business, which is something they could have spent several episodes on, instead of just one montage in the mid-season finale (see time management). I also “get” that there’s an overall point about Heisenberg’s blue legacy, and I’m sure the finale will echo that sentiment (perhaps around its final scenes). That doesn’t mean half of the final season needed to be served as buildup for this single purpose. There are just so many more rewarding stories that could have been told or expanded in those eight episodes.
Mike died at the end, but a more impactful climax would have been something involving Hank’s demise (transposing his pursuit of Walt from the back-eight to the first half). Between some “legacy costs” subplot introduced a season ago, versus four seasons of built-in rivalry between two brothers, which one has more weight for eight episodes? It was never about Hank vs. Walt, but given how small that storyline ended up being in the last few episodes, it’s the kind of plotline that deserved of a full half-season (especially given all the build-up and anticipation).

Time management

One year. That’s how long (in-world) the show has lasted, at least until the fifth season.
As we’ve seen, if there’s something problematic with Breaking Bad, it is how it (sometimes) handles time. Sadly, this doesn’t stop with flashforwards.
Of course, this is TV, so I’m not really bitching about “so many things happen in just a year”. My real problem stems from the way the show has portrayed time.
If not for the 51st birthday bacon platter, would we even realize five seasons of the show only comprised one year?

BreakingBad 51st Birthday
I’ve been loving this final half of season five, however my timely issues seem to be creeping back up as we reach that flashforward moment. Namely, in 5×15 (“Granite State”), as Walter White, under his new identity, is “safely” tucked away in his New Hampshire cabin. In the episode comes probably the biggest time-jump in the show’s history (about six months). We come back in Act 3 and notice Walt’s aging (thanks to his hair and beard). The problem is that this passage of time isn’t felt or even seen.
In fact, I would say that out of Breaking Bad‘s multiple “passage of time” moments, this one is probably the most important. This is, after all, the one where we catch up to the aforementioned flashforwards (from 5×01 and 5×09).
Regardless of how easy or not it was to “guess” what happened to Walt, the transition (both physical and emotional) from his Heisenberg character of five seasons to this dwindling old man is the crux of these final episode. And yet, we barely see any of it. This seems to be another case of compelling drama, hinted at by the storytelling, that is never paid off. The devolution is never shown.

This kind of goes against the many “time flies” montages, most notably the (now-classic) “Crystal Blue Persuasion” from 5×08 (“Gliding Over All”), which was there to establish Walt’s retirement. In the pre-series-finale, he’s learning all these things about his family (e.g. Skyler changing career, house in auction, etc.), and it’s tearing him apart. Almost all of it is implied (or said by Robert Forster in one-liners). Breaking Bad has always been a show about the moments between the moments. This is the kind of drama it should be showing instead of telling.
You could argue that there are only two episodes left, so you can’t spend too much time on that. But we just covered the fact that the first half of season five was a lot of filler. If you move forward the Hank storyline to Season 5A, then you’ve got 5B to cover Walt’s downfall (instead of a single episode). Although we’re not making Breaking Bad fan-fiction here, so I’ll stop talking about hypotheticals.
Bottom line is the episode should make you feel like six (or more) months have passed. There’s virtually no indication of that, as we’re only being told what happened to Skylar et al. It feels like a great disservice for something that is: 1) centered on the most important characters, 2) hinted at with two “wait for it” flashforwards, and 3) an integral part of the end run of the show. I understand there’s no point in showing Saul’s wacky adventures, but even a montage of the Whites in New Mexico would not have detracted from the emotional toll of Walt’s isolation.

Ever since Lost “mainstreamed” the storytelling device, plenty of shows have used and abused flashforwards. Breaking Bad is just the latest on the list.
Fortunately, the show won’t be remembered for these failures, as we’ll see in the next few posts.