Welcome To The Tombs: Walking Dead Review 3:16

“Welcome To The Tombs” the finale of season three’s The Walking Dead ends on an optimistic note. This is unusual for a show that revels in the harsh realities of a post-apocalyptic world, where one survival ethic is “Kill or Be Killed.” And while each narrative thread was not neatly tied up, it was still a good finale to a season that had its ups and downs.

The episode opens with the Governor beating a poor, hapless Milton. His vestige of human dignity and decency leads to his torture, much like Andrea’s predicament does. The Governor tells Milton: “You kill or you die; or you die and you kill.” The Governor’s plan to have Milton kill Andrea created the best tension of the episode, though like “Prey” employed some standard tropes.

The Governor simply leaves a mortally wounded Milton to eventually die then reanimate to attack Andrea thereby killing her. The trope is the assumption that it will all go to plan, and in this case it does, though often in horror films, the plan fails and the victim escapes. I thought she would escape. At least, I did not think the mild-mannered Milton, even in zombie form, would kill Andrea. Ah, but The Walking Dead protects few of its characters (Rick and Carl are the only safe ones I think) and so Andrea’s stupid toes fail her. In addition to stock piling food, weapons, et al. for the zombie apocalypse, one should apparently practice grasping tools with one’s toes. Andrea does not have monkey feet, and it leads to her death.

Both Andrea and Milton represent humanity’s persistent compassion and decency even in the face of the bleak and harsh reality they find themselves in.
These qualities lead to direct conflict with the Governor’s more nefarious idea of killing most of the humans he encounters. The show’s characters continue to wrestle with these precepts and often pay for them with their lives. The finale offered no resolution to these warring notions.

The final scene with Andrea explains some of her behavior throughout the season. Her sentimental notion of “trying to save everyone” seems consistent and appropriate to her character. And she almost achieves her objective, for without her, Rick would not have bussed Woodbury’s too-unfit-for-combat back to the prison to join his group. (I wondered why he didn’t just take over Woodbury, though. It seems as safe as and much more comfortable than the prison.) With Michonne beside her, Andrea ends her life. It was the emotional weight of the episode and the connection to the title “Welcome To The Tombs.” Okay “tombs” is plural, so Milton and the other innocent victims also harken the title.

Finally some battle plans and excellent execution of them. The colossal and spectacular defeat of the Governor is not on par with say, the Battle of Thermopylae, where the Spartans defeated a much larger Persian army, but it was still pretty damn cool. The Governor is clearly a psychopath, who likes to inflict pain and kill people (important qualities in war) but his skills as a military strategist are suspect to say the least.

The frontal assault on the prison reveals his poorly developed plan. His group easily gains entry into the prison and helps clear the yard of walkers. Exploding zombies is always fun viewing. That was nice of them. His attack could not have been more conspicuous. As the Woodbury militia push through the prison, the tension amped up creating exciting TV. This scene along with Milton’s slow reanimation juxtaposed with Andre’s well-manicured, but clumsy little piggy toes (er, she has two left feet—bad, I know but couldn’t resist) generated some serious tension. Of course, she must drop the pliers as Milton’s hand spasms to life. Oh no, get the plies! Cutting to a view outside the door so that we do not know what happens was an interesting choice. The screams and blood spooling from under the door reveals the outcome, we later learn. Can anyone survive in the zombie apocalypse that actually is decent and caring?

The Governor’s inability to accept defeat and relent underscores his dislocation from reality. It leads to his brutal execution of his own people, underscoring his unvarnished psychopathy. The Governor simply can’t handle insubordination and unravels. A shocking scene in a series that must work hard to shock; I did not see that coming. There can be no redemption for him. Still at large, the Governor with his two terrified lieutenants is one of the narrative threads that I thought would find closure. I guess we have to cheer his death next season. I don’t think he will live long in season four, but he may take out a few of Rick’s growing group and former Woodburians before he goes.

Carl becomes a mini-Shane. His back-and-white view of the world accords well with a kid’s perception and frankly makes some sense. He guns down one of Woodbury’s members in a cold-blooded manner his father would never approve of or do himself. Not like father not like son. When Rick later confronts his son about the murder, Carl essentially chastises and dismisses his father. He accuses his father of being weak and threating the group because he fails to kill outsiders. Carl sounds like the Governor. Not a positive development. This must sting, so Rick’s decision to add members to his prison group has as much to do with Carl and his alarming worldview than it does with Rick’s charity and decency. Carl clearly is not happy with his father’s decision. But that’s what parenting is all about in the end. Father knows best. It also suggests that Andrea’s attempt to save “everyone” was not in vain and that not everyone is a cold-hearted bastard.

The season finale was good even if it left some things unresolved. In a non-traditional show, I find this expectation-defying end appropriate and effective. However, I hope next season provides more character development as show creator Robert Kirkman has suggested it would. Until then, I will practice grasping things with my feet.

Prometheus Review

Prometheus, the new movie from Riddle Scott, has a lot going on. It’s kind of a sequel to his 1979 film Alien, but not entirely; it takes place in the same time, and supplies some clues as to the origins of the “alien” creature that bursts out of the stomachs its “hosts,” but not much more. It also is no less concerned with the very origins of humanity. Where did we come from? Who did we get here? Who made us? With these expansive and weighty themes, I was remind of Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and even last year’s provocative Tree of Life from Terrance Malick—films which explore the genesis of life on earth and our position relative to it. Like those films, Prometheus examines these notions in a marvelously shot and well-crafted visual story in a swiftly moving plot. Indeed, the plot can move too quickly at times. The film begins, we assume, on Earth but exactly when is not clear—the future or the past? A hairless, pale but absurdly buff—it reminded me of Doctor Manhattan from the Watchmen film sans the blue hue and pupil-less eyes—is deposited by a space ship next to a raging waterfall. He drinks something and in one of the many excellent special effects, we follow the ‘substance’ into the body as it breaks down his cells and DNA. The ‘man’ falls into the waterfall and essentially disintegrates. One assumption is that his DNA results in the life forming here on earth. Of course, this is a supposition as the film does not explicitly indicate such. Cut to 2089 and a cave in Ireland. Scientists have discovered cave drawings depicting people pointing to the stars. Not that unusual, you think. The two main scientists (Charlie Holloway and Elizabeth Shaw played by Logan Marshal-Green and Noomi Rapace respectively) have pulled together various drawings, some separated by millenniums, to arrive at a simple premise: we are being invited to visit. How cave drawings can pinpoint precisely where in the vastness of space is a bit more questionable and the film really does not want to get bogged down with that. At times, the film does push believability too far, but not nearly as far as, say the absurd Avengers film. Next the film cuts to the spaceship Prometheus, as we meet David, the android, played by Michael Fassbender. As the human crew travels in “stasis,” David monitors the ship, watches both Lawrence of Arabia film and the crew’s dreams. In particular, David attempts to mimic Peter O’Toole’s character, T.E. Lawrence. Creepy, eh? Fasseinder’s portrayal of the android fascinates and repels. As the movie develops, suspicion regarding David’s loyalty naturally arises. I say naturally, because if science fiction films have taught us anything, androids are not be trusted as they often have nefarious intentions—even though they are not supposed to have interests. One of the many “minor” conflicts the movie develops occurs between David and the ship’s corporate overseer, Meredith Vickers, played by Charlize Theron. Her and our suspicions are confirmed as David seems to be pursuing his own agenda, even going so far as to “infect” one of the crew. He provides the skills necessary for the crew to “find” the source of the artificial structure and the paintings. Once the ship arrives and begins to explore a large, artificial structure, all hell breaks loose and the film moves quickly. Inside the structure, the crew apparently triggers a “defense” mechanism and ooze starts dripping from the pods, we learn later are destined for Earth to, I guess, transform the population. Additionally, David furtively brings back pod from the structure and hatches a plan to hasten things along. Here the plot becomes a bit convoluted but no matter, since the ride is rather fun. The team returns to the ship, the mystery begins to unravel and the realities of the “cave drawing” prove to be invitations to humanity’s destruction. They were just waiting for us to show them the way back to our nice planet. But why do our creators want to kill us? Not sure, perhaps that’s coming in the sequels. The film wrestles with big ideas and does so in a taut, energetic fashion. The film is interesting and good summer fun. While it is not as strong as the original Alien, not close to being as suspenseful and intense, this film has its own intense scenes. The best of these scenes centers on Dr. Shaw as she performs self-surgery to remove something from her stomach. This draws obvious parallels to the original film’s best scene-the baby alien bursting from John Hurt’s stomach. The trope is maintained here, but imagined differently. That Shaw can run around after the operation strains credulity, but that can be overlooked. Prometheus maintains other tropes too: being an android can make one lose one’s head, for example. Overall, Prometheus does not easily offer up a clear, resolved conclusion. One has to work at it a bit and many don’t like working when seeing a film. The ending does offer some idea as to the genesis of the alien creature that will plague a resolute Ripley in the years to come and how it’s so damn strong. However other aspects still remain unclear. For example, aside from Dr. Shaw, Vickers makes it “out” and onto the planet during the film’s frenetic third act. The film suggests that she is killed by the falling alien spacecraft, but it is not explicitly stated. One is left to wonder. Further, is Vickers really human or is she an alien. And did I mention that her “father,” Peter Weyland, played by a barely recognizable Guy Pierce, funds the entire one trillion dollar expedition. Think Howard Hughes here. So while the film has a lot going on and the plot seems a little unclear, the film still is quite strong and effective: the visuals, the acting, the special effects and even the grandiosity of the story are all worth the time.

Analysis of Episode 5 “Shotgun”; or the hubris of Walter White

A few glasses of wine and Walter White successfully put Hank back on “his” trail in the firth episode of season four “Shotgun.” The scene is astounding given that Hank believed Heisenberg to be Gale and thus dead. Walter’s hubris, vanity and pride refuse to allow him to enjoy his wealth, however. Walter’s initial reason for getting “involved” was the money, but is not even a factor for him at this point. Indeed, Walter seems to be suffering from narcissistic personality disorder. I think this notion was established early on in the show, with Gretchen and Elliot—Walter’s grad school pals. It seems clear that it was Walter’s inflated sense of importance that ultimately ruined that relationship—both the personal and professional ones. Walter, like many tragic characters, makes decision that will destroy him, or I predict will as the show concludes.

Skylar must now understand, or should be putting the pieces together of just how close Hank is to “discovering” the “truth” of the Whites’ wealth. And the almost incredulous reason is simply because Walter can’t be the emasculated man. So with a belly full of wine, Walter suggests, as the two families eat dinner, that perhaps Gale is not the evil Heisenberg genius Hank describes him to be. Walter posits that perhaps, just perhaps, it was merely rote memorization, a mere facsimile of the true genius behind the chemical formula in that notebook, the key piece of evidence. Not only does Walter’s hubris refuse to allow Hank’s misapprehension to persist, but also Walter seems to enjoy alluding Hank’s pursuit. Walter likes the idea of his wits outmatching Hank and the law. Though Walter has serious threats to his life, he simply can’t allow. The irony is that the same, to a lesser degree, seems true for Hank.

Hank has been physically emasculated. Hanks physical limitation threatens his sense of worth, much the same way that Walter’s unacknowledged brilliant chemistry work, threatens his. Hank seemed to be recovering his masculinity in last week’s episode, but then it was squashed upon his discovery of what he believes to be Heisenberg death. Although Hank says that realization feels like “closure “and we assume thus a good thing, we don’t really believe Hank. So Hank has the drunken Walter to thank for helping him get his mojo back. Walter likes being pursued in this way by Hank. Walter has issues with Hank, expressed throughout the series in subtle and clear ways. I think part of Walter goading Hank to get back on the hunt, rests in Walter’s pride but also his desire to “outwit” Hank, the manly man’s man.

Further, this notion of masculinity, as I am defining here, plays out with Jesse as well. Jesse desires to be useful and important—like Walter. Gus understands this and so puts a plan into motion to generate some self-importance for Jesse. Jesse, after all, simply wants to be needed, accepted and loved. Propping Jesse up though to help him feel better about his manhood certainly isn’t Gus’s plan. At least, I don’t believe it to be part of the plan. Making Jesse feel important and vital seems likely to represent an affront to Walter and how he sees himself. Walter is no match for Gus.

An interesting aside: I wonder if the show’s writers knew this:
The Heisenberg uncertainty principle states precise inequalities that constrain certain pairs of physical properties, such as measuring the present position while determining future momentum of a particle. Both cannot be simultaneously done to arbitrarily high precision. In other words, the more precisely one property is measured, the less precisely the other can be controlled, determined, or known.

I’d say no question about it, as Walter’s chosen “handle” for himself, seems to reveal a facet of Walter’s situation. The more Walter tries to control the events around him, the less influence he has, just like the Heisenberg uncertainty principle.

Review of Breaking Bad: Thirty-Eight Snub

Episode Thirty-Eight Snub illustrates White’s his surprising stupidity fueled by his legitimate fear of Gus. The episode opens with Walter buying a 38-Special Snub revolver from an illegal gun dealer. Walter informs the surprising insightful dealer that the weapon is for “defense.” Walter says this several times as though he is convincing himself more than anything. I suppose Walt might believe in the familiar sporting maxim, “the best defense is a good offense.” He clearly has no intention of purchasing the weapon for defensive purposes; as he sees it, it’s him or Gus, pure and simple. The gun dealer (Lawson what an awesome name for an illegal gun dealer) is aware that something is amiss with the Walter’s explanation and approach. If Walter plans on being offensive, then he should opt for a different weapon. If the weapon is truly intended for self-defense, then going through legal channels makes far more sense, Lawson trenchantly points out. I really enjoyed this scene as it understands that while we, the ever-patient viewer, know Walter is a cold-blooded murder, to the rest of the world, he still looks like a chemistry teacher or something equally as innocuous.

But while Walter is clearly intelligent and seeming capable of self-effacement and reflection, he still behaves as though he has learned nothing from his experience in “drug world” and with “drug dealers.” After all, he and Jesse have had many “close calls.” So when Walter simply tries to walk up to Gus’s home, I suppose to gun him down in the doorway, I couldn’t help thinking “that is really stupid.” Can Walter really be that dumb as to think he can simply walk up to Gus’ house and simply shoot him down? His stupidity is demonstrated with banal subtly when he receives a call while walking up to Gus’s house. The voice, and I swear it was Gus, says “Go home, Walt.”

Walter’s paranoia still fuels an even more incredulous request concerning Mike the Cleaner. Walter tails Mike to a bar (not too well, Mike points out) and then attempts to recruit him. Again, Walt’s stupidity is so obvious in his recruitment pitch. Walter misreads Mike entirely. What does Walter know of the relationship between Mike and Gus? Nothing and Walter assumes, incorrectly, that Mike, after the throat-cutting scene in the prior episode, sees Gus as an unstable madman who will turn on his loyal employees without cause. Mike understands what lead to Gus killing Victor though Mike was clearly shocked, surprised and saddened by his untimely death—a death that was caused ultimately by Walter and Jesse.

The paranoia and shock still has Walter’s thinking addled and unclear. Walter’s behavior displays this, and I wonder how he can survive if he continues to brazenly threaten to kill a man, who could kill Walter without much problem whatsoever. Mike kicks his ass for suggesting he turn on his employer, and one can assume that Mike will relay this information along to Gus. Though Gus no doubt understands what Walter is up to. It seems as though Walter is no match for Gus. Walter has to be smarter than to let his emotions overrun his common sense but that’s what emotions do—overrun common sense. One wonders how the tension between Walter and Gus will be resolved. At some point, both Mike and Gus might get a little tired of Walter and his inept attempt to assassinate Gus. If some bumpkin was trying to kill you at every turn, after you made that person massively rich and after that same bumpkin has indirectly or directly caused the death of several loyal employees, how long would your patience extend? As Jesse might intone, “seriously.”

Jesse, on the other hand, deals with their predicament much differently. Constantly trying to distract himself—three-night party, booming stereo, taking drugs, etc.—Jesse also assuages his guilt by giving away a wad of cash to his erstwhile girlfriend, Andrea. The goal of the cash is more for her child, Brock, than for her. Jesse tells her to move out of the bad part of town. Jesse wants to provide the child a chance, and he knows that Brock has little chance living in the neighborhood that he lives in.

Jesse, as I have posited before, serves as the shows emotional and moral compass. So with his newfound wealth, Jesse does the noble thing—he tries to help out those in need. Jesse still maintains his sense of moral rectitude and even better acts on it. Despite being a killer and drug dealer, Jesse is a good man inside. In fact, the entire sticky situation the boys, Walter and Jesse, find themselves in finds its locus in Jesse’s sense of righteousness. It is Jesse who simply could not tolerate the idea of a child being used in to kill his friend, then as a result of his actions, actions which attempt to right the wrong, lead to the pathetic death of that child. Jesse tries upholding some semblance of moral righteousness and fails. At least fails that time, but he is determined to do the right thing.

The juxtaposition between Walter and Jesse—one perceived by society as a decent person, while the other viewed as a scourge as the show begins—demonstrates the most mundane and pedestrian of axioms: you can’t judge a book by its cover. I suspect that once we read Walter White's story, we may not like him much.

Kaelin’s comedic turn, unmitigated disaster.

Live comedy can be great. I have seen many live comics and go often. Most of the comedians I see, I have not heard of. It’s like discovering a great band that has yet to hit it big. Before moving to Vegas, I vacationed here and on one trip, I saw an up-and-coming Joe Rogan at the Rivera. Never heard of him; his Fear Factor show hadn’t aired yet. It was one of the funniest shows ever. Crying, pain-in-the-side laughing. I have many experiences like that since.

However, while there can be exciting and hilarious comedic discoveries, there can also be unmitigated disasters. Such was the case at Big Al’s Comedy Club at the Orleans. Well, let me be more specific, the “real” comics were good, but the MC/Host was a disaster. I felt sorry for the comedians following the MC given how he simply took the life and energy out of the room.

Both Jeff Richards and The Greg Wilson were funny. I thought Jeff Richards particularly uproarious, though the audience seemed mixed. His routine is odd, to say the least. Long, awkward pauses throughout the routine, which added to the comedy, I thought. His best stuff was his physical comedy—he is willing to go where many comics won’t. To wit, his Momma Butt skit was funny, gross and uncomfortable—all good things for comedy. Yanking his pants to his chest nipples and inviting he audience to notice his male camel toe is brave to say the least—and to me, fucking funny shit. He also does a great Louie Anderson impression.

The Greg Wilson was funny, but his show funniest moment occurred right way in his act. The MC totally blew the introduction and The Greg Wilson proceeded to skewer, eviscerate and demolish the MC’s introduction and more generally the MC. That was funny.

The irony is that the MC/Host was receives top billing on the flyer—one Kato Kaelin of O.J. Simpson’s guesthouse fame. Yes, that guy. He is now trying, I stress trying, to be a comedian. He was, to put it mildly, an unmitigated disaster. Truly terrible.

Now he has a few jokes that were amusing, but his delivery was off. The timing destroying several jokes, but that perhaps could be overlooked. It is not easy to get up on stage and make strangers laugh, I’d imagine. But the element of his routine that I won’t give a pass to is his “audience participation” part.

Many comedians riff off the audience to generate jokes. Vinnie Favorito does this to mild success. I have seen him twice and once is enough. A much better but lesser known comedian who does the same thing is Joe Lowers at the Alexis hotel next to the Hard Rock. Of course, few know about this show given its off-the-Strip location. For my money, he is the best “fucking-with-the-audience” comic in Vegas. Kato Kaelin is the worst one I have seen.

The conceit of interacting and embarrassing the audience as part of a comedian's routine is that it’s not personal and funny. Kaelin violates both these precepts. His interaction with the audience often began with the general statement: “What’s your story?” This seems to me a poor way to begin. The questions needs to be far more specific. What’s your story? How is someone in the audience supposed to answer? No one is going to respond. The question needs to be specific, like what do you do for a living or as Joe Lowers asked me “what kind of porn do you like?” A loaded question to be sure.

After asking his general question, Kaelin stares at the person waiting for, I suppose, a long monologue outlining his story. The key to making this work is the comic’s ability to think on his feet and come up with something funny. Kaelin did not display this extemporaneous comedic ability whatsoever. This is one example of what he thought was funny:

Kaelin: Hey, is that a tattoo on your leg?

Lady in the front row: Yes

Kaelin: That looks like a scab?

Audience: Crickets chirping, thinking that was mean and not funny.

Thus was his routine. He merely insulted and alienated the audience. If he intends to do that, he had better damn well be funny. Instead, he was an unmitigated, unfunny disaster. But go for The Gregg Wilson Show and Jeff Richards, though with Richards be prepared to look at a fat man’s camel toe. It sounds easy to look away, but truly it is not.

The lack of humanity on True Blood

Now a few espisodes into the fourth season of True Blood, I can assert confidently that I do not like the direction the show is taking. This season reminds me of the 2nd season with the that weird lady controling the good ole folks of Bon Temps. That season was simply too weird. And now we are being introduced to more wierd people--the witches--who can apparently control or brain earse the vampires--alas poor Eric, the only intersting character--save Pam--on the show. So the vampires are not the supreme badasses of the True Blood world. But this added element makes the show less grounded or more fantastical. The more the show moves away from the humans, the less interesting it becomes. Soon there may be no humans.

Within the True Blood universe, I wonder how they are even any humans around. Honestly, everything is something "else": werewolves, vampires, fairies, witches, shifters, whatever Jason is becoming and humans. One of these things is not like the others. How are there any humans left in this supernatural world?

Okay, I do concede that Tara is a cool human, but who else? Terry? And remember that

Lafayette is now a witch.

The promise that the first season offered, I thought, was that we'd see a struggle between vampires and their intergration into human culture and the strains that developed as a result. It could have been frutile grounds for exploring all types of aspects of our humanity and society. Instead, the show has opted for sensationalism. Wierdness. It unsettles, nay, overruns, the "suspension of disbelief" required to enjoy the show--and every other show.

I know that the show is modeled after a series of novels, which I have not and have no interst in reading. So perhaps my anticpation was always ill-informed. I don't know how closely the series aligns with the books. I don't much care, either. All I can do is evaluate the series and enough with the wierdness.

Also, with Eric now reduced to a little boy, which I suppose will ingratiate Sookie to him more, the show really has effectively killed off one of the best characters--Eric Northman. He may return to his confident badass self, but for now the best character on the show is gone. Me no likley.

Why I like Breaking Bad

I caught the third episode of Breaking Bad late one night and thought the episode was simply fantastic. I mentioned this to a friend who happened to have the complete first season on DVD and thus was able to watch the entire season. I have now watched the first three seasons. But this is why I like it and feel that it is the best show since The West Wing, though that show lost its way in the final few seasons; let’s hope that is not the case here. Here are a few points that I really enjoy:
• It is entertaining. Many episodes are simply crazy; that is unpredictable and engaging. The “stakes” are often high and as Walter White slowly “Breaks Bad,” he finds himself in very dicey situations.
• It’s realistic. While this aspect relates to the first point, it can be considered on its own merits. The power of this and most shows rests on its realism—especially with the show’s subject—the meth drug world. Of course, having no knowledge of the “drug world” outside secondary sources, my understanding and appreciation for the realism should be channeled through that perspective. However, not having direct knowledge of a “scene” does not disqualify one from appreciating how it’s rendered and from my perspective, I find it realistic. Walter and to a lesser degree Jesse’s decent into the “bad” must be realistic, for if it wasn’t, the “stakes” would not be as substantial or impactful. Though often in the show they are what I would call very fortuitous situations. To the show’s credit though, these fortuitous situations are not forgotten. Walter sees them and offers his perspective on them, though as a scientist, he doesn’t understand them
• Each character, beside the son RJ, has issues, but his issue, as it were, is physical, so every character has some issue. The show does a nice job of outlining the characters and imbuing them with their own damaged proclivities. More on the characters, since it really is the characters that drive the success of the show, or at least my interest. We must identify with the characters or the show won’t work. If I don’t care what happens to a character, then there are no stakes and whatever happens doesn’t matter. Further we must like the characters, and I simply love several.
o Hank, Walter’s DEA brother in-law. He is the embodiment of masculine braggadocio, or at least his idea of what it means to be masculine. Despite the fact that he is a successful DEA agent, he is an

idiot—not in his work, just as a man. He reminds me of so many men who are constantly trying to act tough. He is racist and often ridiculous. Often I find myself laughing at him, not with him, and I am not sure if the writers intend for that response, but he is so over-the-top with his hyper masculinity that I simply can’t help it. Thought the show does not celebrate this, really. Hank deals with this own substantial problems and because he can’t communicate except in insults and rage, he can’t help himself. And when is physicality is taken from him, well, Hank can’t deal with it. A man must be physically able to take care of himself and when Hank can’t, his idea of what it means to be a man is altered. I am curious as to how he handles this in the following seasons.
o Skylar, Walter’s wife. The show really needs to do more with the women. This is one criticism of the show, but it seems as she “breaks bad,” we might get a little more development of her and perhaps her sister, Hank’s wife. But I like where she heading. I have high hopes for her character in the upcoming season.
o Saul Goodman, Walter’s sleazy lawyer.

Saul’s license plate reads LWYRUP. That says everything about the character, and he is simply fantastic in the show. Funny, smart, untoward, inappropriate, lewd. He really became one of my favorite characters, as every time his is in a scene, just about, he is really funny. He is the ambulance chaser lawyer that advertises via obnoxious and garish commercials. He is great.
o Jesse Pinkman, Walt’s partner-in crime. I am not as high, pun intended, on Jesse’s character, but the interesting character point about Jesse, the meth user and criminal, is that he represents the moral compass of the show. Despite the fact that he is a really stupid and an incompetent drug dealer, and the only character involved in drugs and the drug world as the show begins, aside from Hank that is, he often reminds us and others about what the morally right thing to do is. Of course, Jesse is not quite articulate enough to put it that way, but his strong sense of morality is what makes for an unbelievable season three finale. That season finale can be best summarized this way: “Holy fucking shit. I don’t believe it.” Another aspect I like about Jesse is his vulnerability. He is a deeply flawed person, as his relationship with his parents’ shows. I find that portrayal often heartbreaking, at least initially. I wonder how difficult it must be for parents to deal with drug addled children. The show, I think, does not present the parents as one-note evil, rigid people. They are tormented by what Jesse does, but after all the years and years of problems, they have concluded that they can’t help and must divorce themselves from him.

We are offered a counter point of view to this in Jesse’s girlfriend’s father, who tells Walter that “you never give up on family.” Jesse’s parents do and are punished for it. So Jesse is a deeply flawed person who simply wants to be loved and accepted, much like most of us really.
o Mike, Gus’s enforcer. I like Mike. He is the strong man who takes care of Gus’ “problems.” We learn a bit of his background which explains his current line of work. He is direct and phlegmatic when discussing and resolving “issues.” Though unlike other stereotypical enforcers, Mike has a heart. This juxtaposition is set-up when we see him interacting with his daughter. He is at once kind, sweet and attentive and in the next scene cruel, violent and deadly. Pigeon-holing him simply won’t work. He too has some moral fiber, though it is very thin.
o Gus, Walt’s nemesis. The thing about that I like is that he is smart, calculating and exact. He seems more like a professor than a drug lord. Seldom are characters written as really, really smart. He has a plan and when his plan encounters “problems” he thinks quickly but with steely control. That is quite unnerving because we don’t really know what he thinks. We can’t read him because he is calm and clear. That often is very scary. Unfortunately or fortunately Walt is his intellectual equal.
o Walter White, the brilliant chemist cum high teacher cum meth producer. Walt makes the show, really. We must be able to believe him as the unappreciated high school teacher who slowly “breaks bad.” This evolution or devolution must be rendered appropriately. His character is tragic in the literary sense of the word. He understand and recognizes his foibles and realizes that he made his choice and must stick with it. Understandably he fights it and tries to rejects it, but ultimately can’t. One of my favorite episodes in season three is “The Fly.” Essentially, there is no “action” and it focuses exclusively on Jess and Walt in the super lab. I find this episode critical in understanding and appreciating Walter. He fully understands that he had his chance to “get out” but not now.

This recognition potentially makes him a tragic figure; I say potentially because tragic figures die—they understand that it is their ambition and the realization of that ambition—in Shakespeare’s play Macbeth, for example, becoming the king—that leads to their tragic end. If Walter eventually dies—he has cancer, too—as a result of his drug involvement, he will be a tragic figure.