Walrus Comix TV Review:
AMC's 'Breaking Bad'

          Few phenomena have made for such artistically fertile fodder as the garden variety midlife crisis. In an age where Jersey mob bosses assume the fetal position on psychiatrists’ couches in the face of an impending midlife malaise, it seems that nobody desires to go quietly into that night once marked by conspicuous consumption of fire engine red Porsches. Having successfully spawned its first noteworthy serial drama earlier this year with the brilliant Mad Men, AMC has now set its sights on exploring the dysfunctional comings and goings of a decidedly less cosmopolitan set via Breaking Bad. Helmed by X-Files auteur Vince Gilligan and featuring an appropriately bravura performance by lead man Bryan Cranston (formerly of Malcolm in the Middle), Breaking Bad is a captivating look at a man whose time simultaneously has come and begun to wane in the same breath (or lack thereof).

Cranston plays high school chemistry teacher Walter White, who is for all intents and purposes the least threatening white man on the planet. Bespectacled and mustachioed, White ekes out an existence in Albuquerque, New Mexico by supplementing his teaching income while working part-time at a local car wash. With a child on the way courtesy of his domineering stay-at-home wife (Anna Gunn) and a disabled son navigating adolescence (R.J. Mitte), White’s passive façade begins to crack as his everyday concerns begin to mount. His tipping point is reached via a fateful trip to his doctor where White is diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. Facing the prospect of leaving behind an expanding family in dire straits, the teacher arrives at the conclusion that his knowledge of chemistry would henceforth be most useful in establishing a cash flow courtesy of crystal meth. Armed with the news of his impending mortality, White finally begins to offer glimpses of the vibrant wit concealed within his cul de sac cocoon. His ride-along with his DEA agent brother-in-law provides him the opportunity to reunite with former student and current burnout meth dealer Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul), as the pair begin an unlikely extracurricular association. White succeeds in producing an auspiciously potent and pure form of the drug, but he quickly finds himself on the wrong end of an education in the ways and means by which the other criminal half lives.

          White is an inherently decent man looking to gain a temporary toehold in life via a very dirty business, and he quickly learns through interaction with some local gangbangers that a full-scale resetting of his moral compass may be in order. As Pinkman botches his attempt at being the frontman for their burgeoning drug enterprise, White discovers that the onset of his cancer is not the only literal life and death dilemma with which he must contend. Cranston does an excellent job in conveying the moral scruples at play for a man who has made an art form of subjugating his emotions behind a dutifully passive exterior. As flashes of deep-rooted feelings begin to bubble to the surface with increased frequency in the face of a rash of external stimuli, White begins to shed his automaton skin and convey the anger and frustration of a man who fears his best laid plans ultimately signify nothing. Cranston's permutations while struggling with a moral quandary related to a kind of statute of limitations for self-defense and a corresponding use of lethal force are truly riveting. As with Gilligan's previous series, however, there are ample points of levity offered via some textbook black humor that prevent the show from buckling under the weight of the world that White metaphorically carries. White's exasperation in his dealings with his former failed student and now de facto business partner results in some pretty hilarious verbal sparring, as does his gradual eschewing of his wife's whip. There's desperation at the heart of everything White does, but the scene where he ever so politely asks his wife to "crawl down out of my ass" is priceless all the same.

As White endeavors to stay one step ahead of his wife, his brother-in-law, his rapidly evolving criminal associations, and the finality of the disease that resides in his chest, Gilligan allows his main character a full gamut of emotions and expertly supplies his cast with the kind of dialogue and plotlines that allow for fulfillment offscreen if not always onscreen. Led by the performance of Bryan Cranston, Breaking Bad stands as another example of AMC's commitment towards developing some much needed thought-provoking television fare.

-Brant Miles