Margaux and I discuss, at length, last night’s penultimate episode of Better Call Saul.
Trevor: Sometimes I really love the simplicity of the titles on Better Call Saul. Last week was titled “Slip” for an obvious reason, and it’s only natural to follow that with “Fall.” If you slip, you’re going to fall, but the title has an underlying meaning, in that this is really Jimmy’s fall from grace, which is a strange thing to say about a man who ends the episode with the promise of a million dollars. But he’s seldom acted this underhanded or selfishly – cruelly, even – and a lot of his actions really depressed me. As he said to the congregated retirees: “It’s time for a new game.” How did you like “Fall”?
Margaux: The episode title didn’t exactly fill me with confidence, but a fall of some sort really touches each character we check on this hour. It’s almost a misnomer though because it’s not so much a fall as it is the illusion of control these characters (Jimmy, Nacho, Chuck, Kim, and Mike) like to think they have over their respective careers and crafts and it is not simply untrue, everyone is out of their depth here. The most impressive feat “Fall” manages is it wants to switch your allegiance (at least from me) ever so slightly from Jimmy to Chuck, and we watch Jimmy behave in the most callous and calculating way you can only assume has been there all along, more like Chuck than he’d like to think. One last note we can put a pin in before we move on, “Fall” also moved the chess pieces closer to Breaking Bad than ever before, it was like staring into an abyss.
Trevor: I love your interpretation of the title, and I really appreciate that two people can look at one word and get different meanings from it (for the record, I like yours more). “Fall” definitely felt like BCS moving into endgame, and I’d be surprised if its next season isn’t its last. I’d much rather have the show end early than drag on too long.
Margaux: Next season is Better Call Saul’s last season, and I do not mean this in a shady or insulting way, but thank God. I do not want to watch Bob Odenkirk use older women as a means to his greedy end more than I have to.
Trevor: Speaking of Breaking Bad, we saw more of Lydia this week, and while I agree with your assertion last week that her presence is largely unnecessary, I think it worked better here. Namely because of her revelation that she’s never done any money-laundering for Gus before, so Gus must see something special in Mike. It wasn’t anything we couldn’t surmise, but it was a nice character beat, and I liked that it didn’t come directly from Gus, who on BCS is even more taciturn than we’re used to (I also like that Mike is polite unless you give him a reason not to be; his “No, thank you” when offered a drink spoke volumes about him).
Margaux: Exhibit A in my loss of control, Mike is (rightfully) wary of officially being in Madrigals book. I completely agree with you – Lydia’s part this week felt a lot more necessary than her first cameo. From the moment Mike walks into her office, you can see the beginning of a very annoyed relationship, something about Lydia instantly grinds Mike’s gears, probably because he doesn’t quite buy her bullshit, but has no other option other than believe her because what else is he gonna do with all that money, get buried with it? It’s always little bit bizarre to watch two characters you know die terrible deaths in what – five years TV time? – become acquainted. But Lydia’s hella ominous parting words to Mike, “if that’s all you think Gus is, you don’t know Gus Fring.” I assume she means meth-slash-cartels, what do you think she meant?
Trevor: I think she’s telling Mike that Gus is no mere drug dealer, which honestly I thought Mike would have pieced together; he’s getting a multinational corporation to launder a sum of money that, in the scheme of things, is minuscule. I wrote that line down too, because, like you said, it was nicely ominous, and I liked Laura Fraser’s delivery of it. In retrospect, I like that we saw Lydia and Gus checking out the industrial laundry when last we saw her, because it shows that Gus has grand ambitions, not all of which have been realized; some of them are just taking shape. I like that look that he and Nacho share after Hector takes one of his pills. I feel like in Nacho, Gus recognizes something of a kindred spirit.
Margaux: Speaking of Nacho, those dang pills didn’t work, but I highly doubt it’ll be the last time we’ll see or deal with them. But for now, Nacho feels like his plan has failed, he has no choice (Exhibit B) and so he breaks the news to his Father, and goddamn it if I didn’t get choked up when Papa Nacho quietly, but sternly, told his son to “get out and never come back.” Nacho nods, and thoughtfully dumps out his glass of milk, washes it, and leaves. Just about died on the inside.
Trevor: That scene was played to perfection. No screaming, no histrionics, no English.
Margaux: Other than my minor quibble that if you’re going to let “fuck” in Spanish not be censored, but the subtitle is, that’s fucking stupid. I appreciated the scene between Nacho and his Father more for not being spoken in English – it made you pay attention (and read), which I’ve been told a lot of people hate. *Kanye shrug*.
Trevor: Michael Mando was terrific, but his performance is so low-key he’s unlikely to get any recognition for it, because at any given point he is this show’s beating heart (at least among its regular characters; I’m sure Kaylee is pretty faultless). The look on his father’s face when he heard the name “Hector Salamanca” was crushing, but it was also telling, and it helped reinforce Nacho’s toxic relationship with Hector, as well as Hector’s reputation in the community.
Margaux: I just love how Better Call Saul communicates sadness and heartbreak wordlessly more often than not.
Trevor: As loath as I am to do so, I feel like we should talk about Jimmy and poor Mrs. Landry. We’ve seen Jimmy act underhanded before, but this was radically different, and much worse.
Margaux: Please, don’t let this be about Irene.
Poor Irene, I don’t even know where to start, Slippin’ Jimmy is great when he’s doing it to himself or some asshole who (objectively) deserves it, but this was some other shit. It’s so dark. Who else besides Chuck hurt ya, Jimmy?
Trevor: There were so many shots of Jean Effron that just broke my heart. It was hard to watch at times. Director Minkie Spiro doesn’t shy away from the tragedy of aging, and of doing it alone; watching Irene’s face fall as her friends walked away from her in the mall was wrenching. It’s hard to even talk about, honestly. Part of that is because of the straightforward way in which Better Call Saul sometimes presents its stories. We know what Jimmy is doing pretty early on, but there’s no fun in it. I’m fine watching Jimmy being duplicitous or even selfish, but here he’s malicious, and it really tests our sympathy for the character.
Margaux: The montage of Jimmy peeling off every one of Irene’s mall walker friends (I love that, by the way – also great Jimmy/Saul/Gene foreshadowing), isolating Irene to the point where she thinks her only friend in the world is Jimmy, it’s fucking sociopath shit. And for what? He ruined the only good thing about this woman’s sunset years so he can the bills that Kim told him he didn’t have to worry about last week? Watching her fall into the trap was the hardest part, Jimmy is supposed to the opposite of this guy. Of course Jimmy was going to rely on his old tricks to pass the time while he couldn’t lawyer it up, but the amount of planning he put in to take down Irene because he has nothing better to do. Lord, from those fucking cat cookies, to the rounded sole walking shoes, to the rigged bingo (RIGGED BINGO, IS NOTHING SACRED?), he’s simply a deplorable piece of shit through and through. And the way he triumphantly busts the doors down at Wexler-McGill, blowing past Kim and whatever else she – a working, practicing lawyer – might be dealing with, shoving his win down her throat. So nasty, so rude. Ugh, everything about Jimmy’s exchange with Kim was hard to sit through; his shit-eating grin, his low-key shaming of her, “I see you slept in the office again”; yeah dick nuts – Kim is a fucking badass, recognize!
Trevor: Kim, though…she’s never given me this much anxiety. Watching her get her car unstuck was oddly tense, and you realize later that it was just excellent foreshadowing: cars and Kim Wexler are not friends right now. Watching her drive was a white-knuckle experience, because movies and TV have conditioned us to know that if you see someone driving for an extended period of time, they are going to crash. That said, I loved how it was handled – that quick cut to the aftermath, and the wordless realization of what happened, was masterful.
Margaux: If I needed further proof I am turning into my Mother, I wrote in my notes, “Kim is very lucky she didn’t die in that crash.” As usual, leave it to Better Call Saul to perfectly capture what falling asleep behind the wheel is like (or anytime you’ve nodded off), it literally happens in the blink of an eye. One minute we’re watching her practice her speech to the land-oil people (yup, I’m going with that) and the next, she’s bloody and bruised with the airbag deployed around her. It was gut wrenching because I had a different read on the near oil rig collision. The way Kim handled un-sticking her car and stopping it in the nick of time, I was humming “Independent Women” by Destiny’s Child, Kim don’t need no help her, she really does got this. Sleep is important is the moral of Kim’s story. That’s obviously a very small part of Kim’s problem, but really it’s her reaction to handling personal stress and feeling out of control (Exhibit C). The second she agreed to turn the Gatwood Oil case around in two weeks, I mean, even Beyonce has help, ya know? Kim can often make decisions out of fear, too; fear her relationship with Jimmy is crashing and burning, fear of failing, fear of ending back up in the mail room.
Trevor: I have nothing to add to that; it would just be redundant, and I don’t think I’d put it as well as you just did. I will say that I am officially worried about Kim Wexler; this goddamn show introduced characters like her and Nacho and sadistically made us like them, all while knowing they won’t be in Breaking Bad. We’re running long, so we should wrap up, but I think we’re going long because we both liked “Fall” quite a bit. You want to slap a star count on this shit?
Margaux: Well, we really need to talk about Chuck before we do that.
Trevor: Shit, you’re right! What an eventful episode.
Margaux: I’m just going to say it, I love that he’s suing HHM; Fuck You, Howard, love your bar tutor, Chuck. He’s using his petty powers for greatness this episode. The way he spoke to the insurance people is the way I wish I could negotiate with Comcast. And boy, did Howard’s gentle push toward retirement explode in his face (and then Howard later took that out on Jimmy, what a fun little triangle jerk these guys have going!).
Trevor: Howard really turned on the Howard Hamlin charm there, didn’t he? I gotta say, I really enjoy Patrick Fabian’s performance, even (almost especially) when Howard is being a massive douche, and telling Jimmy to bring a tin can if he wants to beg is right up there with “Go get your fuckin’ shine-box.”
Margaux: So. Spot. On. Howard is the Billy Batts to Jimmy’s Tommy DeVito. Now that we’ve made the requisite Goodfellas comparison, what’s your star count for “Fall”?
Trevor: You know me, when characters get hurt or killed I want to go the full five. But goddamnit, I think “Fall” earned. You could talk me down to 4.5, under the assumption that the finale is going to kill it, but that’s as low as I could go. This was a hell of an episode.
Margaux: In a world where everything sucks and is on fire constantly, Better Call Saul came through (and always does) with the best way to spend an hour watching TV.
5/5
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