Better Call Saul: “Slip”

Margaux and I discuss a pretty tense, pretty great episode of Better Call Saul. 

Trevor: This is something we say a version of almost every week, but goddamn is this show good at cold opens (and montages, which we’ll get to). I love seeing Mel Rodriguez return as Marco; Rodriguez is such a warm, unassuming presence, which serves him well here and on The Last Man on Earth, and he makes for a good foil, juxtaposed against Jimmy’s cynicism, which is in full force in this flashback. “So much for good luck” could really be the motto of this show.

Margaux: The cold open also goes a long way to conflate where Jimmy Sr’s “soft touch” ended and Slippin’ Jimmy’s casual disregard for the rules began. I’m not saying I fully buy into Chuck’s theory that Jimmy essentially bankrupted his family’s business, but the more times we return to this well, the more it makes it you wonder if the truth is somewhere between Jimmy and Chuck’s version of events. The cold open-flashback is an ingenious way to set up “Slip,” which could have been called “Slippin’ Jimmy: In Three Acts.”

Trevor: That’s exactly what I was thinking, and it’s in episodes like “Slip” that Better Call Saul doesn’t ignore the tragically ironic heart beating at its core. There’s something really depressing about seeing Jimmy go from being a lawyer with a pretty thriving practice (even if it’s not in the most exciting field) to a con man. I think he really hits rock bottom, pun intended, in the guitar store. He had a good business idea with selling his airtime, and now he’s reduced to, well, being Slippin’ Jimmy again. At least he gets a nice guitar out of it; now he just needs to figure out the right key for “Smoke on the Water.”

Margaux: The Sklar Brothers are sort of the perfect assholes; not only do they get a free commercial out of it, but they have the gall to think they can do this all themselves – anyone who is a freelancer in a creative field, did that set your teeth on edge too? Either way, pretty sure Jimmy laying on the floor of his office, noodling on his (free) brand new guitar, signed by the guy who came up with the riff for “Smoke on the Water,” is one hundred percent a visual “yes, he’s hit rock bottom” confirmation. Things don’t really seem to be going all that well between him and Kim either. Even during the episode where Jimmy unveils Saul Goodman to Kim for the first time, they seemed more like roommates than…friends with benefits? I don’t know what’s up with them, but the way he nearly Don Draper’ed money at her, it didn’t seem…loving.

Trevor: I’m not really sure what’s happening with their relationship either, and I like that the show keeps it vague. It was pretty uncomfortable to watch him demanding that she take the money – he didn’t give it to her, but had her get it herself off the desk; he called it “something for you,” as if she’s his landlord and not his business partner; and he capped it off “We won’t have to talk about that again.” It’s easy to understand why he’s being so short, even if I don’t condone it: his identity as a lawyer is slowly being erased, while her star is on the rise, and he’s resentful of the fact that he feels no choice but to turn back to grifting. And I like what this does for Kim, too. Howard disrespects her in a restaurant (“Kim, sit” is such a patronizing line)? Fine, here’s $14 thousand dollars of fuck you. Jimmy snaps at her? Fine, I’m taking on another client. I love Kim’s policy of taking no shit.

Margaux: I have to say, after Howard is incredibly shady to Kim in front of a Mesa Verde and she excuses herself from the table, I thought she was going to scream into her purse. It was greatly satisfying to watch Kim not only reject Howard’s shit, but then throw it back in his face with a bunch of money on top. But after re-watching it, I didn’t get as much of a kick out of watching Kim roll around in the dirt Howard. She’s better than him, and she knows that, she’s above squabbling at a fucking valet stand. And I agree, there’s no will they won’t/won’t they between Jimmy and Kim, which I wholly appreciate. It’s more like, how will Jimmy unintentionally fuck over Kim to the point where she straight up leaves him in every sense of the word. I genuinely hope Kim hasn’t bitten off more than she can chew by taking on Gatwood Oil, she’s already living in the office and taking disco naps in her car – GIRL, TREAT YOURSELF. Luckily, Francesca is still employed there, for whatever help that’s worth.

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Trevor: Francesca is the shit.

Speaking of ticking clocks, can we talk about Nacho and Hector? This is the montage I alluded to earlier, of Nacho fabricating pills and making practice drops into a jacket. Director Adam Bernstein does a great job of making this look tedious, difficult, and nerve-wracking, and it’s a nice reminder that this is still the team who brought us Breaking Bad and therefore are not afraid to make things incredibly tense.

Margaux: Two things. One: what I love so much about Gilligan and Gould’s characters (and world building in general) is that there is no fucking movie magic to them. Oh, you want him to get the pills in Don Hector’s pocket perfectly the first time? Well you gotta practice, and we’ve got a montage that’ll make you wanna pull your hair by the end. Two: the only appropriate response to the scene where Nacho switches Hector’s pills is of Jordan Peele sweating profusely. I legit couldn’t breathe and wanted to throw up for what felt like the longest three minutes in all of cinematic history.

Trevor: Nacho is used to illustrate one of my favorite running themes on BCS: everyone is not just smart, they’re clever. Knocking out the AC is a great way to get Hector to take his coat off, and an even better way to disguise that Nacho’s anxiety is making him perspire. I like the look of uncertainty on Michael Mando’s face in this scene; even he isn’t sure he can pull this off, and it helps the scene achieve a nice amount of tension. We all know Nacho isn’t in Breaking Bad, and this worked because it played off of that knowledge.

Margaux: Nacho is sort of Better Call Saul’s Jesse. More likable than you’d expect, you want him to succeed so badly, but know he’s ultimately doomed. As we’ve mentioned before, this show’s greatest strength is building tension with a mix of character we do and don’t know, but have also formed different bonds with here. Speaking of bonds and feelings, “Slip” went a long way to endear Chuck. As humiliating as it was to basically be called crazy in front his peers, Chuck’s soliloquy to Dr. Clea Duvall about wanting to return to the court room and dining room (hosting an enormous party with people spilling out onto the lawn, no less), I actually felt like Chuck was being honest. It seems like he finally realizes that the longer he hangs on to this disease, the more it fuels his obsession with Jimmy (because he has nothing else in his life to hold his attention), and so the cycle repeats itself. How’d it all work for you?

Trevor: Honestly, really well. “Slip” realized that Chuck has become as much of a villain as its realistic to make him, and as we’ve said before, BCS does a terrific job of making you sympathize with ostensible antagonists. You really feel bad for Chuck here, and Michael McKean does a predictably great job of letting you see Chuck’s insecurity. I love the way his voice cracks on “What have I done?” I’m not sure if I want his illness to be real or psychosomatic, but I think the show would stick the landing either way.

Margaux: Based on Mike and Gus’s money laundering conversation do you think it’s a 75 or 90 percent chance he’s alluding to an assassination attempt on Hector? Cause I think I’m sitting real pretty on my prediction of 90% Hector murder.

Trevor: I agree with you there, and I love that they’re officially in business now. They literally made a backroom deal. And it was a perfect touch to close on their handshake. Is there anything else you want to touch on, or shall we move on to stars?

Margaux: Like a stone rolling swiftly down a hill that’s covered in shit Better Call Saul is not going to let up for the next two episodes, so if we thought “Slip” was rock bottom, we best buckle up.

 

4.5/5

About Author

T. Dawson

Trevor Dawson is the Executive Editor of GAMbIT Magazine. He is a musician, an award-winning short story author, and a big fan of scotch. His work has appeared in Statement, Levels Below, Robbed of Sleep vols. 3 and 4, Amygdala, Mosaic, and Mangrove. Trevor lives in Denver, CO.

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