Every week for the second half of the final season of Breaking Bad, our roundtable of TheAtlantic.com's J.J. Gould, Chris Heller, and Spencer Kornhaber will discuss the latest happenings on AMC's show.
Heller: "In a year, a year and a half, once we've cooked through this methylamine and made our money, there will be plenty of time for soul searching."
—Walter White, "Buyout"
"You need to stop focusing on the darkness behind you. The past is the past. … Now that's over. You're out, and so am I."
—Walter White, "Blood Money"
This is how the end begins. Walter White, perhaps the most villainous character a television show has ever dared us to root for, is standing in front of his long-abandoned Albuquerque home. This is the same man who nearly shot himself in the New Mexico desert two years earlier; who became a murderous drug lord named Heisenberg; who made his fortune cooking methamphetamine; who finally quit the meth business and retired. Where is Skyler? Where are the kids? We don't know, and I suspect we won't find out until Breaking Bad reaches its final conclusion later this year.
But I know I loved this episode, “Blood Money.” The tension, the humor, the stellar performances, everything. Returning to Breaking Bad after a yearlong absence is like switching from green tea to cappuccino. The show is remarkably entertaining, despite the dark story it tells. Can you think of any other show that manages to play so many different notes, so consistently? In one scene, we watch Hank stumble out of a bathroom looking about a decade older than he did when he walked in; in another, we listen to Badger describe his dream episode of Star Trek. (Which, ew.)
These are all notes I've grown to expect from Breaking Bad. What I didn't expect, though, was how "Blood Money" framed the upcoming season in dueling terms of redemption. Walt seems to think that he can die a good man simply by ignoring his past sins. Jesse, on the other hand, wants to atone for what he's done. Their fortunes—their blood money—have become extensions of the way they view what they've done. Walt is a monster because he's rationalized it all. Jesse is doomed because he comprehends it. My hunch is that neither will be redeemed—Breaking Bad has always punished those who do bad things—but the contrast nonetheless adds a philosophical wrinkle to their show's central relationship. Do you guys agree?
That said, Vince Gilligan tipped his hand as to where Walt is headed—and not just because of that flash-forward sequence. "Blood Money" put Walt in three situations that demonstrate his waning strength as an intimidator and manipulator. When Lydia comes to the car wash to beg for help, he's not the one who scares her away. When he lies to Jesse about Mike's whereabouts, his former partner doesn't seem to believe a word he says. When Hank pins him against a wall, both literally and figuratively, neither Walt's silver tongue nor Heisenberg's attitude appear to save him. It's the beginning of his end.
For four-and-a-half seasons, we've watched Walter White manufacture poison. For almost as long, we've suspected he is made of a much more potent kind. But now, the people around him are finally building up a tolerance—and I'm thrilled to see what happens next. Spencer, what did you think of the episode?
Kornhaber: Here’s what has me thrilled: This no longer feels like a show about Walter White. You’re right, Chris, that this episode was all about our antihero’s loosening grip—both on the surety that he and his family can finally “live ordinary, decent lives,” and on the narrative of Breaking Bad itself.
This is now a show about Hank Schrader, apparently aged, as you say, about a decade by the realization of who his brother-in-law is and what has to be done. It’s about Jesse Pinkman, struggling for his soul. It’s about Skyler White, aching for normalcy.
Walter’s still in the picture, but I, at least, have lost all rooting interest in him. It's a relief. “I don’t even know who I’m talking to,” Hank says in the episode’s oh-shit-it’s-actually-happening climax, but the audience feels the opposite: By this point, we know exactly who Walter White is, and he’s insufferable. That scene of him cajoling Jesse—calling him “son,” flipping through a catalog of hollow arguments and outright lies to keep his former partner quiet—discomfited as much as any of the show’s bloody confrontations ever have. This is a man so deep into double talk he barely offers the pretense of caring whether what he says is actually true: “Jesse, I need you to believe this.”
Bryan Cranston directed the episode, which, given his character’s trajectory, might explain why so much of it was staged like a horror film—long scenes of not much happening (the camera closing in on the bathroom door; Jesse slowly chucking cash out windows; Walt searching for Leaves of Grass) as the soundtrack’s industrial drones swelled. The surface-level horror, of course, comes from Walt’s dread at being found out, not to mention the cancer’s return. But the deeper dread comes from reminders of the potential repercussions on the other characters: the flash forward to the empty house, Skyler’s visible concern that her family's new stability could be shattered, the prospect of Jesse’s gnawing shame ending up as the least of his punishments.