Better Call Saul

Breaking Bad plotted chemistry teacher Walter White’s rise through the drug trade and subsequent fall. In terms of pulsating drama there is no rival. Bryan Cranston’s towering performance of a man brought down-chronologically- by career, cancer and hubris gripped television audiences worldwide. The show’s popularity owed something to Netflix, the television subscription service that backed the novelistic drama in a way our own broadcasters are loathe to do. By the end of its run, Netflix had co-opted the show from the mainstream broadcasting channels and began drip-feeding it to its subscribers. This isn’t the usual way Netflix does things: one of the appealing features of the service is that you can consume a show all at once without having to wait for the weekly episode to be transmitted. Aware however that they had a golden calf, Netflix took control of the means of consumption, offering episodes weekly as opposed to all at once. They knew that such was the popularity of the show that people would pay the £6 a month solely to see how Walter White’s drug empire fell. With people talking about the show at work, in the pub and on social media there was no for the service to advertise, it was being done for them by us the consumer. In an ironic twist of fate, Netflix, a brand that prided itself on being new and current, had reverted to traditional broadcasting to gain more subscribers. If it weren’t for Netflix Breaking Bad would never have found its audience; likewise, if it weren’t for Breaking Bad an audience wouldn’t have found Netflix. The success of the two are intertwined.

It is no surprise then that the two sides have decided to renew their wedding vows by airing Better Call Saul, the spin-off to Breaking Bad, exclusively on Netflix. Just as Breaking Bad was the only Netflix show released on a weekly basis, Saul is too. Streaming services know that people want the convenience of watching shows when they want, but they also realise that the best way to retain subscribers is to take that convenience away and make people sign up for at least three months to see how their favourite show concludes. In terms of transmission Saul and Bad are the same, but in tone and plotting they’re far from similar.

Better Caul Saul takes place before Breaking Bad, telling the story of how Jimmy McGill (Bob Odenkirk) broke bad and became the slippery attorney of law, Saul Goodman. The story opens with a hirsute Saul working the dreary environs of Cinabon, a nationwide patisserie chain. Fans of Bad will smile at how this event has conspired. Events then flashback to the current day where Jimmy is now in a beaten up Suzuki Esteem - a long way away from the Cadillac DeVille that we know he will go on to drive. The car is a symbol of Jimmy's place at the arse end of the legal profession; fortunately, the only way is up. Unlike in Breaking Bad, he is yet to represent the rich and infamous, instead he is on the payroll of the poor and feckless. That gift of the gab that he’s known and loved for is still there, however he doesn’t have the power to dictate events in the way his character will go on to do. To supplement his legal aid work, he is 'forced' to run street scams with juveniles. In this juxtaposition you can already sense Saul Goodman, the ghost of Jimmy’s future: it is quite clear from his reactions to these escapades that he prefers the law of the jungle to the sanctity of the court. Essentially, Jimmy’s kicks don’t come from upholding the law but by circumventing it. Like a British cabbie, he is using his knowledge to find the best possible shortcuts.

I think that car was borrowed from The Inbetweeners.

 Jimmy’s weakness for deception is particularly compelling given his brother Chuck’s character. Chuck (Michael McKean) is academic, diligent and conservative in a way that Jimmy is not. As a named partner in top legal firm HHM, Jimmy respects his brother immensely. In earlier flashbacks, we see the painstaking hours Jimmy put in to obtaining his legal certificate to emulate his career. HHM’s refusal to give him a place at the top table is why he must now eat the crumbs of unglamorous state cases. On top of that, Chuck’s recent hypersensitive condition has left him housebound, meaning Jimmy must act as carer – in work and in life Jimmy is subservient to his brother. This family dynamic between the brothers is the most interesting part of the show with the relationship being more paternal than fraternal as Jimmy strains for his elder’s approval. The fact that Jimmy loves his brother unconditionally despite this neglect makes him virtuous in our eyes - irrespective of his plotting.

Jimmy and Chuck.

In terms of how it compares with Breaking Bad, its pace is much more glacial. Walt underwent the same crisis of identity that Jimmy undergoes, but the stakes are far lower in this show. Here, there isn’t that sense of jeopardy where we fear for the lives of the protagonists and their families, instead the concerns are a lot more everyday: How can the rule-breaker Jimmy square his relationship with the moral Kim? How long will Jimmy balance legitimate with illegitimate legal practice before his true nature runs out?  In many ways it is like Stevenson’s classic novel on the meditation of man’s twin nature: our propensity for good and bad – The Strange Case of Jimmy McGill, Esq and Mr Goodman, then, if you will.

The last episode of Season 2 is next Tuesday and with more series promised I’m excited to see how the transformation develops.