No Hugging, No Learning: “Better Call Saul” and a Lack of Good Guys
It can be confusing when exactly no one in a narrative occupies the high ground.
Better Call Saul is remarkable in a lot of ways. It’s the rare sequel series that s as good as—if not better than—the original that spawned it1. It’s the rare television show that is concerned with non-showy-yet-spectacular cinematography. It’s the rare show that obviously had a plan to begin with and pursued that plan with a steady sort of competence instead of lurching from idea to idea like a drunken sailor as it desperately tried to stay on the air2.
It was also, ultimately, a confusing series for some. When the finale aired, I had more than one person complain about its direction. Very specifically, a lot of people were of the opinion that Kim Wexler, Jimmy McGill/Saul/Gene’s ex-wife, former partner in crime, and obvious soul mate, got off easy because she was just as much to blame for the way things turned out as Saul3.
At first, I was confused by this surprisingly common sentiment. After all, Kim was not, perhaps, blameless, but she was also not involved in most of the murderous, cartel-aligned shenanigans that Saul Goodman was eventually ensnared in. The venom directed at her4—specifically arguing that she was escaping her share of the blame—made little sense. Until I realize the real problem: Better Call Saul doesn’t have any heroes.
Holding Out for a Hero
Note: This newsletter is a machine that uses brilliance as fuel and produces spoilers as exhaust. You have been warned.
Every single character in Better Call Saul—in the larger Breaking Bad universe, in fact—is, at best, a deeply flawed person and at worst a sociopathic serial murderer5. That’s your range. There are no good people on this show. Saul, obviously, is a monster—a conflicted monster, perhaps, but still a man cheerfully willing to let other people be murdered in exchange for getting rich, and a man who puts quite a bit of energy destroying several lives, including his own brother’s. Mike, Nacho, Gus—criminals, and if Nacho and Gus occasionally exhibit recognizably human behavior that doesn’t mean you can root for their success, since their success means more murder and a range of other offenses. Chuck’s a pompous, mean-spirited ass who actively works against his own brother’s success, Howard’s a petty, vindictive son of a bitch6, and even Nacho’s father is kind of a jerk the way he consistently makes it impossible for his son to be forgiven.
And then there’s Kim. Kim has plenty of red on her ledger, most notably being the driving force behind the campaign to destroy Howard Hamlin. Is Kim a fundamentally good person? No, of course not7. No fundamentally good person could do what she did. Saying she’s not as evil as, say, Lalo Salamanca isn’t saying much, is it?8
So we have exactly zero heroes in this universe. There is literally no one we can look at and root for. And it makes it confusing for folks used to reading or watching stories that make it a lot easier for you.
Even celebrated shows featuring antiheroes give us more to work with, usually. Tony Soprano was a killer, a criminal, and quite the asshole—but the show worked hard to make us like him. It showed his struggle with what he did for a living, it showed his flashes of kindness. Don Draper could be a ripe prick, but he often did kind things and sometimes even did the right things. Jamie Lannister slowly finds his humanity and reclaims his dignity.
But Better Call Saul does the opposite: While Kim obviously makes an attempt to atone for her sins and trace a new path in her life after the devastating outcome of her campaign against Howard, the show takes pains to make Saul less sympathetic. In his post-Breaking Bad life as Gene the Manager of a Sad Cinnabon9, Saul breaks even more bad, treating everyone around him like shit and seeming to enjoy destroying lives even harder than ever before. Even after getting caught, he farts out disdain and good cheer as he turns the tables on the prosecutors who have gathered to put him in jail. If Slippin’ Jimmy was an asshole and Saul Goodman was a bigger asshole, Gene is Jim McGill I Have Become Death. It’s the same arc Walter White went through—it’s almost as if Vince Gilligan has a theme he’s exploring here. Walter starts off as a fairly sympathetic character10, and ends the show a monster we’re relieved to see bleed out on the floor of a meth lab. Jimmy-Saul-Gene is in similar dark territory by the end: There’s literally nothing to like about Gene. He has neither Jimmy’s sweetness or Saul’s sharp, bitter humor. The character literally devolves over the course of the show until there’s literally nothing to like11.
So who do you root for? No one. There’s no one to root for. And even in the supposedly dark or gritty shows of prestige television, there’s almost always someone you can root for, in some sense of the word. But not in Better Call Saul.
Everyone Is Terrible
The urge to demonize Kim Wexler—or any other character—stems from this simple fact. We want a hero, and we want it to be Jimmy. If that’s not possible, it must be someone’s fault. Kim is the obvious choice—after all, she is the one who encouraged the whole Howard Hamlin scam even when Jimmy himself expressed doubt12. And then she’s the one who abandoned Jimmy in the aftermath, leaving him to fester in resentment and anger and embrace his Saul persona permanently.
But it doesn’t work, because Kim is simply one of many, many flawed people in this universe, and Saul’s precise, purposeful devolution into villainy is too effective. He’s not a victim. He is, in the parlance of the show, The One Who Knocks. At best, you could see his downfall as a self-indulgent and immature emotional reaction to losing Kim, but the willingness and enthusiasm with which Saul engages in his own defilement removes all possible sympathy for the character. Kim can’t be the villain of the show because Gilligan has carefully calibrated things so that Saul is, ultimately, on the same level as Gus or Lalo in terms of moral decay, whereas Kim remains at a slightly less advanced level not because she is good or moral, but because she had her Galadriel Holds the Ring Moment and was scared shitless of what she saw13.
A story without a single person worth rooting for is inherently destabilizing. Both writers and readers instinctively avoid it because it’s messy and difficult—much easier to redeem your antihero and have them save the day with some sacrifice in the end, or die smiling at their family in a moment of pure love and peace14. That’s one reason why Better Call Saul will probably be remembered as one of the great shows of its era.
Of course, I myself am effortlessly heroic. Why, just today I could have left the dishes for The Duchess to do, but instead I washed them.
Next week: The very good writing on Industry.
This is due, in part, to the fact that BCS goes back further and finds a version of Jimmy that isn’t a complete asshole, making his journey more interesting. The more you re-watch Breaking Bad, the more obvious it is that Walter White was always kind of a jerk—he was just a powerless jerk initially.
Manifest, I think we’re looking at you.
I think Kim’s realtively humorless affect has a lot to do with this; Rhea Seehorn plays her as the emotionally careful, damaged person she is, and that can read as cold and calculating if you’re a certain type of person.
It might also have to do with her competence. The rest of us despise the Competents, trust me. I can’t even get out of bed without stubbing my toe, so someone who actually knows how to do things just makes me mad.
Or Badger, who deserves his own breakout show. Something like Bingo Bongo Badger!. I’d watch that every day.
Greatest sin? That NAMAST3 license plate.
Honestly, Kim’s energy on the show is often “neighbor who spends 6 months researching your public records in order to have your home foreclosed on because you once placed the recyclables on the curb on the wrong night.”
That’s like saying I’m not as consistently Day Drunk as Don Draper.
As opposed to all those cheerful Cinnabons in malls you hear so much about.
Again: Only because of the terminal illness angle.
And then there’s that crime against humanity known as his mustache, which is a *chef’s kiss* character detail.
Who hasn’t dreamed of destroying someone’s life just because you don’t like them? It’s the American Dream, really.
Would Better Call Saul have been a better show if they’d actually included a scene where Kim went all Dark Phoenix, rising off the floor, eyes glowing? No, but dammit, I want that scene.
Biggest lie TV ever told: That death isn’t always violent and horrifying.
"It can be confusing when exactly no one in a narrative occupies the high ground."
That was basically my opinion of BREAKING BAD, that nobody was pure of character. In fact I didn't want to watch Breaking Bad because we're conditioned to bond with the protagonist, and I did not want to bond with someone who purposely chooses evil. I didn't want to root for the dealer of death to avoid detection. I feared it might poison my soul. But my friend Aaron so wanted me to watch the show that he sent me the first season on DVD, and once I watched it I was committed. Cautious, but definitely committed.
I'll admit that I loved the magnets scene:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzCXowhks80
But in the end, the best I could say was BB served as a cautionary tale about allowing evil into your life. I'll never watch the series again, and because BETTER CALL SAUL is a spinoff, I'll never watch that, either.
But that's just me.
Re #12- The American Dream. Yes. I have 2 people who fall into that category. A sister and nephew. I'm normally not a vindictive or cruel person, but every time the Mega Millions Lotto hits around a billion, I toss in a few bucks in hopes...