What ‘Better Call Saul’ Does Better Than ‘Bad’
What ‘Better Call Saul’ Does Better Than ‘Bad’
The bond between Chuck (Michael McKean) and Jimmy McGill (Bob Odenkirk) is a central plotline in earlier seasons.
I can recall shortly after the second of what would be six acclaimed seasons, the recently concluded AMC series Better Call Saul had already inspired discourse on whether or not it was better than its iconic predecessor Breaking Bad. I must confess, I did not really buy into the “greatest TV series of all time” praise Breaking Bad received until after watching its fourth season. My high school self personally found the middle of its first three seasons to be boring (although who knows how I might feel about them all these years later).
So, it is quite amazing how that same high school kid found the prequel to be more riveting to follow week after week. Better Call Saul noticeably packs less action and life-and-death situations, at least early on anyway. I may never know how my mind works when watching any media. However, if I were to make a guess what made me invested, after all the legal jargon and tedious procedures, it may be the show’s exploration of Jimmy McGill’s relationships with his fellow lawyer and later wife Kim Wexler and his skeptical older brother Chuck.
Bad sees its protagonist, Walter White, progress into antagonist territory through increasingly lethal decisions. We remember most the creative kills and the cinematic explosions whose medium ranges from fulminated mercury to tortoise-cum-severed head. On the other hand, save for the distinct cartel half of the show, the violence in Saul is articulated not through visual spectacle but through the piercing words from the mouths of Jimmy’s loved ones as he progresses into his Saul Goodman alter ego.
Jimmy’s six-season-long transition into Saul is neither driven by a cancer diagnosis - a numbering of days left to live nor catalyzed by the gruesome murders of rivals. It is realized through his destruction of his own brother’s reputation and his separation from his beloved wife. In season 1, Jimmy’s love and affection for his brother are central to his storyline. We first see Chuck months into his reclusion from his duties as the head of a successful law firm due to a supposed allergy to electricity, surviving only through the labor of his younger brother. Through flashbacks and dialogues between the two, we learn of another of Jimmy’s alter ego Slippin’ Jimmy, a mischievous small-time con man. It is an identity that Jimmy desires to suppress and grow beyond, especially after an incident involving feces and a vehicle with children.
And yet, Chuck, a strict believer in the law, is not moved by Jimmy’s sincere efforts to change his slippery ways and become a legitimate lawyer. After a season’s worth of micro-aggressive remarks, it is revealed in “Pimento” that Chuck himself, not Jimmy’s “nemesis” Howard Hamlin, constantly kept Jimmy from joining his prestigious law firm. In some way, this bombshell revelation mirrors the literal bombing of Tuco’s office by Walt, which also happens in Bad’s penultimate first season episode. Both are pivotal moments in the trajectory of each show’s protagonists. Walt’s scientific prowess turns into a showcase of macho criminality. Jimmy’s love and affection turn to anger and resentment towards Chuck.
The romance between Jimmy McGill and Kim Wexler (Rhea Seehorn) becomes central to the show in later seasons.
The fiery conclusion to the Jimmy versus Chuck storyline, after much professional humiliation and verbal sparring, speaks to the volume of the personal emotional grievances the characters of Saul have. It is impressive how Saul manages to rival and exceed Bad’s emotional highs without the spilling of blood or the threat of murder. The concealing of emotions proves to be just as harrowing as desperately outmaneuvering drug lords. In “Chicanery,” it is revealed that Chuck’s electronic hypersensitivity first manifested during his divorce from his wife, Rebecca. Details on this event aren’t elaborated thoroughly but do seem to suggest a correlation. Chuck chooses to keep his condition a secret from Rebecca, even as he declines. His desire to suppress his emotions eerily mirrors Jimmy’s hardening into the carefree, one-dimensional Saul.
The seeds for Saul Goodman had always been laid out since the beginning. In fact, the alias itself predates the main 2002 timeline the show primarily focuses on, being first revealed through a flashback to Jimmy’s own past of petty scams. The tendency to indulge himself in mischief and morally questionable acts has always been there, perhaps not too unlike Walt’s moral decline. Still, what makes Jimmy’s transformation different from his cancer-ridden client is witnessing the beginning and the end of his professional and personal relationship with Kim Wexler.
Unlike what we have seen in Bad, where the most intimate acts between Walt and Skyler are awkward handjobs and car sex, there is a sweetness and tenderness to Jimmy and Kim’s love story. Silently smoking in parking lots and prison, late night parlor foot massages, watching old movies on cable, throwing beer bottles into parking lots. When Chuck has revealed his true colors, Kim fills the void as Jimmy’s confidant, encouraging him to take a consulting job at another law firm and later representing him before a disbarment hearing. In turn, Jimmy helps the workaholic Kim loosen up a little, running scams together that would eventually come to a screeching halt with a bullet to Howard’s head. Harboring guilt over unintentionally orchestrating the circumstances around Howard’s death, Kim’s conscience gets to her and leaves. Smash cuts to Jimmy hiding his guilt and pain over Chuck, Howard, and Kim behind Saul Goodman. In the episode “Breaking Bad,” the same silence that spoke intimate feelings now punctuates the rift between the two as they quietly sign divorce papers.
Six years and a TV series later, Saul has a chance to come out on top, much as Walt had done previously. Walt makes sure his family gets what’s left of his drug money, eliminates his remaining enemies, frees Jesse, and dies free from the police. Saul gets to only do prison time for seven years. And yet, what sets the two anti-heroes apart is Jimmy’s capacity for loving another person, whereas Walt can only love himself (“I did it for me,” he finally reveals to Skyler). Saul Goodman goes down in a blaze of damning confessions; he finally takes responsibility for his crimes and ill-doings regarding Howard and Chuck. His voice cracks, and his eyes water. In true Better Call Saul fashion, not a word is exchanged between Jimmy and Kim in this scene. But with Jimmy’s longing looks and Kim’s subtle softening of her cold expression, we know Saul Goodman is as dead as Walter White.
Revisiting and continuing established IPs is an addiction from which the film and TV industry currently suffers. Notoriously, prequels and sequels follow the law of diminishing returns, rehashing plot lines and obsessing over references to previous works. But ultimately have little new to explore. In this landscape of unoriginality, Better Call Saul makes its mark by giving fans the benefit of familiarity but also introducing never-before-seen emotional depths to a character that merely served as comic relief. By unraveling the romantic and familial side of Albuquerque’s beloved criminal lawyer, Peter Gould and Vince Gilligan managed to outdo themselves. That’s better than good, man.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FJ Calvario is an aspiring online reviewer. Surprisingly, he likes watching films and TV shows. He can be found talking about them on Twitter and Letterboxd.
