[rating=8.00] “Off Brand”
Last week’s storm has deadened, and the quiet is settling in. Fortunately, Better Call Saul thrives in the quiet spaces, pulling drama and climax from the bits of nothing that lay far between the moments of intensity. It’s foolish to call it boring—as they’ve proven time and time again, boring is a mere façade for Better Call Saul. It’s when nothing is happening that everything happens.
It’s a stark departure from its parent series. Breaking Bad was a show defined by its moments of violence and intrigue. When you think about your favorite moments, they tend to be the most brutal and devastating of the series. Saul plays with that, letting the clouds of Hurricane Walter amass in the distance, foreboding and black. It’s a promise of future violence that drives it; it may be calm, but the stillness promises danger, and we’re compelled to sit and wait while the storm gathers.
Not that Better Call Saul is without violence. Last night showed that violence can and will happen, as Nacho (an element that’s been missing from much of this season) is compelled by Don Hector to beat a minion when they came up short on their weekly dues. (That the minion was a young Krazy 8—Walter White’s first cold-blooded kill—was an added bonus.) Still, even the violence was mostly restrained. We’re left to imagine the worst of it, which we’ve already seen in Breaking Bad.
Krazy 8 was the first of many Breaking Bad callbacks in last night’s episode, which brought us more of Gus Fring’s history as his war against the cartel begins to ramp up. Victor and Tyrus made an appearance, meeting Nacho as he took supply from Fring on Hector’s behalf. That was another moment that teased a possibility of violence as Victor pulled a gun on Nacho after Nacho took one more kilo than was promised as a test of Fring’s resolve.
Ultimately, all three of them were pawns. Gus and Hector are busy testing each other, probing for weaknesses. Hector no doubt sees Fring’s willingness to allow him the extra kilo as a sign of weakness, but by now we know never to expect Gus to not have a plan. He’s certainly far from weak, and who knows how this chess match will eventually come to a head. Or even if it will even get that far.
Nacho seems dangerously close to switching sides in the upcoming battle. Hector’s insistence that Nacho use his father’s shop to help smuggle in drugs has the potential to blow this beef wide open, and as we saw last season, Nacho is not above turning against his bosses or partners should the need arise. It seems likely that Nacho will eventually join forces with Gus, which we will no doubt cheer despite the fact that Nacho’s absence in Breaking Bad doesn’t bode well for his ultimate well-being.
Gus, meanwhile, is making moves. For the first time this series, we see what will eventually become a key component to his empire. It wasn’t as glorious as we know it will eventually be, but beyond the disrepair we saw the industrial laundry that he uses to house his super lab. Along the way, we’re also reintroduced to another old friend from Breaking Bad—Lydia. Her appearance was all too brief, but the implications of her arrival on the scene are tantalizing. We never got the chance to see Gus and Lydia share the stage on Breaking Bad, and the potential exploration of that relationship—and more from Madrigal—gives us plenty of fuel for the second half of season three.
All of this paled in comparison to the final Breaking Bad appearance of the episode, and there’s no way we could have predicted that this would be how it happened. The blowback from Jimmy’s bar hearing went better than anyone could’ve expected. Instead of disbarment, he’s been put on a year-long suspension. Howard and Chuck see this as a win—they’re giving Jimmy enough rope to hang himself—while Kim and Jimmy see this as a best case scenario.
After divesting himself from his clientele, there’s still the matter of his already paid for commercials. Airing them is moot, but not airing them is a waste of money. Unfortunately, his contract states that he’s not allowed to sell the air time he’s already bought. Jimmy’s con artist instincts kick into overdrive.
Couple with his lawyer’s use of loopholes, he seems unstoppable. He may not be able to resell his air time, but he can run whatever commercial he wants. His scheme is simple: he and his crew of misfit film students will make and air a commercial for local businesses for a low cost, and for a limited time only the air time is free. If he can make enough commercials for enough businesses, he should at least break even on the money he’s already spent. So how does he do it? By making a commercial, of course.
The fatal flaw in this plan is that Albuquerque already knows him as Jimmy “Gimme Jimmy” McGill. Going that far off brand seems detrimental, so he’ll need to create a new brand and it’s one we’re well familiar with—Saul Goodman.
It seems fitting, somehow, that the first appearance of Saul Goodman would be in a manner we never could have expected. All this time we’ve been anticipating something, and they give us something from out of left field. It’s a perfect example with the way Better Call Saul uses and plays with our expectations to take us on a completely new dramatic journey, so unlike its predecessor. It’s part of what makes it so great; perhaps, even better than Breaking Bad.
