Tag: Breaking Bad

Sixty Hours I’ll Never Recover

Published on by D. G. Hart406 Comments

But at least no naked actresses.

That is the general reaction in the Hart household to the completion of Mad Men, a tv series perhaps a tad better than Breaking Bad, but miles behind — wait for it — The Wire. (The atmospherics of Mad Men inch the series just barely ahead of Breaking Bad.) I had to go through 90 episodes to see Don practicing transcendental meditation, Peggy finding love, Joan being torn between love and career, Roger finding love appropriate to his age, and Pete landing in Witchita? Yes, it was uncomfortable to see Betty get sick, but not so much that you see a different side of her.

The morning after I read Louis Menand (who is emerging as someone worthy of a man-crush) on Charles Duhigg’s book, Smarter Faster Better: The Secrets of Being Productive in Life. Menand can’t quite understand why self-help books for business people sell. They are so obvious:

There is not much to disagree with here, and that is one of the intriguing things about the genre this book belongs to. Not dozens or hundreds but thousands of titles like “Smarter Faster Better” are published every year, and they account for a disproportionate percentage of total book sales. Yet they mainly reiterate common sense.

Does anybody think it’s unwise to be lean, nimble, and innovative? Who needs a book to know that rote behavior and fear of uncertainty are not going to take us very far? It’s not startling to learn that organizations that nurture a “culture of commitment” are more productive than organizations that don’t, or that setting ambitious objectives can jump-start innovation. “People who know how to self-motivate, according to studies, earn more money than their peers, report higher levels of happiness, and say they are more satisfied with their families, jobs, and lives.” I can believe that. “Determined and focused people . . . often have higher paying jobs.” I won’t argue. “An instinct for decisiveness is great—until it’s not.” An impregnable assertion.

In an uncanny way, Menand also explains the logic of Mad Men:

If you owned an advertising agency fifty years ago, on the other hand, you wouldn’t care how much pig iron your workers could carry in an hour. You would want your account executives to have winning personalities, to be able to bond easily with other people, to be likable. You would want them to have manners tailored to attract the patronage and retain the loyalty of your customers. Their task would be to persuade, not to push. You would therefore want them to be able to conceal, maybe even from themselves, the manipulative and possibly mercenary nature of their relationship with clients, and to transform a business transaction into a friendly quid pro quo. You would reward the most successful account executives with lavish expense accounts.

The series never goes beyond this (except when Don is being Don).

Hope for Walter White

Published on by D. G. Hart42 Comments

You may violate the terms of church membership if you belong to the Mafia, but if your crime is disorganized, say as disordered as the scripts for Breaking Bad were, hey, man, there’s hope:

You cannot call yourself a true believer if you participate in organized crime, Pope Francis told members of the Cassano all’Jonio diocese in Italy on Saturday.

No one, the Pope said Feb. 21, can “call themselves Christians and violate the dignity of the person; those who belong to the Christian community cannot program or carry out acts of violence against others and against the environment.”

“Jesus never invited demons to lunch, no he chased them away, because they are evil,” he said, emphasizing that Christ and evil are incompatible.

Why You Shouldn't Trust Website Rankings Now!

Published on by D. G. Hart41 Comments

The missus and I are struggling to finish Mad Men. We are almost through with Season Six. A couple nights ago I asked if she agreed with my sense that Mad Men is superior to Breaking Bad only because of the atmospherics — 1960s urban American business culture with all the elegance that used to mark the professions. She did. Today, after a few more episodes, I asked if Breaking Bad was superior to Mad Men because it did not manipulate sex and flashbacks to make up for characters without any interest. She agreed again.

I’m on a roll.

But I am almost to the breaking point with Mad Men after Don Draper’s personification of Marlin Brando in Last Tango in Paris. Draper seems even less of a real character than Walter White. His appeal apparently is his sexual performance but since the writers don’t seem to be interested in dialogue (and they can’t show even simulated sex on AMC), we have to assume that Draper has no need for Viagra, penicillin, or words that actually woo his conquests (even though he’s supposed to be quite the wordsmith with his advertising firm’s clients). The only depth we receive for Don or his times are flashbacks to his boyhood — as if growing up for part of his youth in a bordello explains his insatiable desire (as if my fundamentalist parents could not have come up with that story line) — and scenes from broadcast news telecasts about the Vietnam War, Civil Rights movement, and the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Bobby Kennedy. My peers in radio-tv-film at Temple University could have written a better script.

Meanwhile, the viewing public is clueless:

Rottentomatoes
The Wire 100%
Breaking Bad 99%
Mad Men 97%
Foyle’s War 100%

IMBD
The Wire 9.4
Breaking Bad 9.6
Mad Men 8.7
Foyle’s War 8.4

Amazon
The Wire 4.5
Breaking Bad 5
Mad Men 4.5
Foyle’s War 5

Old Life
The Wire A
Breaking Bad C-
Mad Men F
Foyle’s War A-

After The Wire They Broke the Mold . . .

Published on by D. G. Hart189 Comments

The missus and I finally polished off Walter White, the high school chemistry teacher turned meth cooker and dealer, the principal character of Breaking Bad. As I have indicated several times, Breaking Bad always left me (and the wife) feeling manipulated. Walt never seemed like a real character with genuine demons. He came across, instead, as a vehicle for writers to fashion for the purpose of extending a story line. Schuyler, his wife, also never seemed credible in her transformation from vapid housewife to gangster spouse. But then, the operation that Walt worked with either to cook, distribute, or make money never seemed credible, as if he could stand up to existing drug cartels and assorted kingpins and live to tell about it. The only likable characters were Saul, the lawyer, who is more cartoonish than real, Mike, the hitman who clearly would have cleaned Walt’s clock any number of times had it not been for the writer’s hi-jinks, and Hank, who seemed competent until he learned that Walt was the object of his long search and turned into a brooding bowl of jello for several episodes.

I am glad the series is over. We stayed with it only to see what the writers would try next.

But to compare this to the Sopranos (which I haven’t seen much) or The Wire defies belief. First, the characters in both of those shows seem plausible and are likable, even with their faults and wickedness. Second, the writers seemed to know something about organized crime and that you don’t simply decide one day to open up a drug operation and keep your life without gangstering up with a lot of protection. Third, in The Wire, as I’ve said, you like almost every character even if they are against each other — from Jimmy to Stringer Bell, from Prop Joe to Avon Barksdale, from Bubbles to Omar. And as the wife said, never has a show had so many African-American characters that you were sad to see go when the series ended (or when they died).

Of late, some commentators have wondered about the problem of binge viewing — the practice of watching numerous episodes over the course of one evening rather than seeing them in real time when they originally air. This may be a problem in the television series genre but I have no idea how anyone will remedy it. What concerns me is the knowledge that viewers have about the number of episodes left in a given season or show. In Homeland’s second season, for instance, several significant plot twists occur in the first two episodes in a way that leaves you wondering how the writers will get through all twelve episodes. The same happened at the beginning of the second part of Breaking Bad’s last season — though the habit of showing the result of a plot line, say Walt arranging his bacon into a 52 and then backing up to show how Walt got there felt contrived (as did too much of the show — have I already said that?). At least in a movie, even if you know how long it is supposed to be, you have a sense that before you is a complete unit that will resolve itself and let you walk away. With a television series, you have too much time to wonder what the writers are scheming and whether they are doing so simply to secure a contract for another season.

Unless, of course, you’re watching The Wire, in which case, you’re only left hoping that David Simon might consider another visit to Baltimore to update the doings of Gus, Bunk, Bubbles, and Marlowe.

(All about my) New Man Crush

Published on by D. G. Hart53 Comments

After a visit to Baltimore I had a hankering to revisit the characters from The Wire, I do miss them so. And my regard for the show may have turned me into an snob when it comes to the current crop of popular cable tv series — Mad Men and Breaking Bad. A colleague believes I have set the bar too high when watching Breaking Bad, for instance. By the same logic, I should like Miller High Life compared to Smutty Nose IPA (but when Miller Lite drafts are $1 is on tap, why not order it like it’s sparkling water. Wait, it is.)

A recent piece on Breaking Bad just doesn’t convince me, anyway:

Early on, Walt refuses a sincere offer from a former colleague to help him pay for his treatment. Here we catch a glimpse of a man whose low station in life belies an enormous amount of pride. Soon, in an inversion of the Book of Job, Walt leverages his personal suffering to justify entering “the business.” As the factors that ostensibly led him to “break bad” disappear, each justification gives way to the next until he is completely convinced of the righteousness of his cause simply because it is his. How else could a man utter lines such as, “I’m not in the drug business, I’m in the empire business,” with a straight face?

All this thematic potency wouldn’t matter much if the writing weren’t so taut, the performances so spellbinding, the suspense so addictive. But without fail they are. Which is why we have every reason to trust that Gilligan and company will bring their parable of pride to a satisfying conclusion.

I know some don’t think that David Simon developed characters on The Wire sufficiently. But Walt is not developed — full stop. He seems to be a weather-vane the writers can turn, depending on the direction the plot needs to go. With Jimmy and Bunk and Omar you had a decent sense of who they were and the nature of their demons. With Walt, he’s an adoring father one minute, a milk toast another, and Stringer Bell the next. His wife is almost as bad, from dipsy mom, to trampy drug boss spouse, to pouting and intimidated soccer mom. Jesse is a far more believable character, as is Mike, the muscle. And even if the attorney, Saul Goodman, is a tad clownish, I’d much rather see a series about his life than Walt’s.

A show that helps to reveal the Breaking Bad’s limits is Foyle’s War, starring Michael Kitchen (who now replaces Gabriel Byrne in my list of male crushes). We are only about six episodes into the series, but what has made it so charming is what also sold us on The Wire — you have appealing characters depicted on a richly textured canvas. In the case of The Wire it was Baltimore and the woes of a somewhat major American city. In Foyle’s War the context is England during World War II. In this it resembles Downton Abbey (though Foyle’s War came first), but Foyle’s War is not soap operaish. And Michael Kitchen’s facial gestures accomplish what Vince Gillian’s writers only wish they could achieve.

I don’t regret watching Breaking Bad though I can’t believe it took until the end of season three with the introduction of Saul Goodman for the writers to figure out that the characters’ conflicting motivations make for real drama. Have they never seen a Coen Brothers movie!?! But I do seriously regret the comparisons of Breaking Bad to The Wire. Anyone who spent any time in Avon Barksdale’s Baltimore knew that Walt was going to need a lot more human capital and connections than little old Jesse. Breaking Bad never broke plausible.

When the World is Breaking Bad

Published on by D. G. Hart183 Comments

Mrs. Hart and I finally had the chance to watch Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and generally enjoyed it, though as is the case with most spy flicks, you don’t pay enough attention the first time through to figure out the villain (and once you know the villain in a second viewing the mystery that energizes a spy flick is gone). What continues to intrigue (all about) me about the genre of espionage movies is how indifferent Americans (and Europeans?) appear are to be to the morality of spying.

Most spy flicks take place in the context of the Cold War and presume that the United States (or the UK) is in a moral and political contest with the Soviets and the evils of Communism. Even if agents lie, kidnap, kill, and steal, agents of the CIA and MI6 are on the side of good, and the preservation of liberty and the American way requires intentionally breaking eggs. Broken shells and wasted yokes are the price of doing business.

Parenthetically, one of the curious features of debates over the Obama Administration’s handling of incident at the embassy in Libya is to see folks who grew up distrusting the CIA and calling cops “pigs” now having to rely on those very same intelligence agents to justify their decisions, actions, and authority. Boomers once envisioned a world where intelligence would be unnecessary and its immoral associations eliminated. A funny thing happened on the way to running a superpower — the realization that espionage and intelligence gathering are par for the superpower course. In which case, when it comes to international affairs, Obama depends upon secretive and duplicitous spies as much as tricky Richard Nixon and Slick Bill Clinton.

As I say, most Americans (aside from the pacifists) are immune to the moral compromises involved in living in a superpower. Our global hegemony depends in some way on a lot of craftiness and worse. Whether our security requires it is another matter. (Do we need to fear Mexico or Canada?) No politicized preacher of the Religious Right or neo-Calvinist persuasion I know has taken on the military-industrial complex or the ethics of agencies like the CIA. And yet, w-w advocates would have us think that the great instances of defective thinking and spiritual decline in the United States are policies and laws regulating human sexual desires. In point of fact, the United States likely lost her innocence well before the sexual revolution, that is, she lost it at least when she decided to wage an international war against the spread of Communism. Europeans like the Brits have never seemed to be as troubled by the ethical compromises involved in ruling and protecting a nation’s global footprint. Americans, by contrast, prefer thinking of their nation as one innocent of European decadence and intrigue. That preference may be a condition for demonizing those who break some of the Ten Commandments and not other parts of God’s law.

But on the upside, the new character in Breaking Bad (formerly Larry Sanders’s agent) is welcome a welcome development even if the series continues to depend on Dooms Day scenarios like divorce, girlfriends’ deaths, RV battery failures in the desert, suicide turtles, and airline crashes. Those extraordinary moments of Walt’s and Hank’s life make me think experimental Calvinists would prefer Breaking Bad more than confessional Protestants since the latter know the value of the ordinary and routine over excitement and glitz.

Breaking Bad Is Peaking Early

Published on by D. G. Hart29 Comments

The cats have been sleeping through a lot lately, especially the little hellion (Cordelia) who now that the wood burning stove is running cooks until she almost turns soggy. We have watched, for instance, Margin Call (a well done movie about Wall Street on the eve of the 2008 meltdown), Newlyweds (pretty good movie about modern romance even if borrowing too much from Woody Allen as Edward Burns is wont), Whistle Blower (a decent English movie about intelligence and the Cold War that pines for an England innocent of espionage and mightier than the U.S.), and Republic of Love (a lame movie about modern romance unless you like seeing Bruce Greenwood’s naked chest — I am not that metrosexual). But the subject of discussion between the missus and me of late is the television series, Breaking Bad. Having spared Mrs. Hart of the ghoulish opening episodes and the indelicate elimination of bodies (I believe in eschatological discontinuity but I hope the resurrection won’t be so radical), we are now into the second season and the era of Walt’s shaved head.

The early returns are that the series has transgressed the line of suspension of disbelief. The reason for the trespass may be the writer’s sense of needing to keep viewers’ attention with a fairly minimal set of characters. Compared to The Wire which had all of the resources of Baltimore at the creator’s disposal, this is supposed to be the story of one man’s struggle to survive.

Whatever the reason, the episodes with Tucco, while entertaining and dramatic, are simply implausible and make the prospects for another three seasons after this one even more unbelievable. How is Walt going to keep this a small operation? Or will he need to become an Avon Barksdale and Stringer Bell in order to pay his medical bills? But to come as close to being killed (by Tucco) and discovered (by his DEA brother-in-law, Hank) and live to see a return to cooking seems just too much. These tensions would have been more appropriate at the end of Walt’s tenure as meth dealer, not as the beginning of a new stage in his evolution.

The most unbelievable part was Tucco’s father failure to ring the bell on Jesse while being interrogated by Hank. If this had been a stand alone instance of remarkable providence, maybe it would have been plausible. But it was part of too many other very strange circumstances that had to break not bad but right for Walt and Jesse to live to see another batch. And the problem with cutting it so close to being discovered — can we really believe that Hank doesn’t know what’s going on — is that the writers don’t have the backup that David Simon did in The Wire. If Walt goes to jail, the series ends. When Avon went to jail, The Wire became even more interesting.

This doesn’t mean that Breaking Bad is bad. It only means that so far the Harts are not hooked. After season one, episode five of The Wire, we were all in.