‘Breaking Bad:’ Meth, Violence, and the Destruction of a Common Man

I’ve skirted AMC’s “Breaking Bad” since it came out in 2008. Previews around various streaming services and clips—involving a menacing and conniving Bryan Cranston—gave the impression of a fun-ish crime drama. I knew the plot hook of Cranston’s Walter White having cancer, which set him on the path to cooking—and selling—methamphetamine as a way to make money for his family after his death. What I didn’t know was that “Breaking Bad” was to be so very dark, devoid of morals, and utterly hopeless. Finishing Season 5 this week, I found not “the best television show in history,” as one media opined, but a dark, thought-provoking tale that’s encapsulating and depressing. Action, drama, and violence are all par for the course. But what “Breaking Bad” shows, under it all, is the complete death of one man’s soul—stemming from his pride and ego—and the utter destruction he leaves in his wake. 

The series, created by Vince Gilligan, introduces us to his main character in bizarre fashion. Gilligan often starts his episodes from finish to end, with a quick clip of how the episode ends with no path to how it got there. In Episode 1 we see a mostly-naked Walter White (Cranston) driving an RV hurriedly through the New Mexico desert wearing a gas mask and only his underwear. He’ll then record a video to his family, skirting the details of his crime(s), which we’ll soon learn are meth production and murder. 

The Devolution of an Upstanding Citizen

It’s then a shock when the episode really starts, White celebrating his 50th birthday with his wife Skyler (Anna Gunn) and son Walt Jr. (R.J. Mitte). Walt’s had a cough he can’t get rid of and he’s heading to the High School where he teaches chemistry. He’s picked up a job after school washing cars due to financial strife. He’s a mild-mannered man who seems to present with depressed mood. Teaching his class seems to excite him—or maybe it’s just the sense of power it gives him. Yet it’s only a matter of time before Walt passes out at the car wash, undergoes a MRI at the hospital, and is diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer. Walt barely reacts. He focuses on a spot of mustard on the oncologist’s tie. The preceding scene in the ambulance makes a sweeping indictment of the American medical system: Walt wants to be dropped off around the block as to not make a fuss—and because he doesn’t have good insurance. 

What causes Walt to produce and sell meth? It may be as simple as a birthday party at his home right after his diagnosis—which he keeps to himself—where his brother-in-law Hank (Dean Norris), a DEA agent, talks about a bust he made and how much money they found. Walt wants to leave money for his family that will set them up before he dies from cancer. Other reasons present themselves along the series. Walt’s ego had him walk away from a lucrative business early in his career and he’s not accomplished much. He feels emasculated from his paltry salary, the way his boss at the car wash talks to him, the way his brother-in-law jokes about his lack of manhood—and many, many more things that drop along the way. By the pilot’s end, Walt will blackmail an old student, Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul) into cooking and selling meth with him, murder two thugs in self-defense, and begin to lie—to Skyler, his son, Jesse, his students, and most of all himself—and the rest is history. 

Selfishness Masked as Virtue

What’s different about “Breaking Bad” from other hit dramas is its focus on Walt, who we will sympathize with in the show’s beginning—and even root for, despite his criminality—and slowly despise as he slips further and further into psychopathy. This isn’t a hero’s journey of a man who did something dangerous to save his family. It’s the story of a man who puts himself first above all else as he rationalizes how each deadly decision he makes is the right one. The rapport he develops with Jesse as the show unfolds is one of condescension and irritation. Jessie was a student who squandered his potential. By the end of the series, he’ll learn to cook meth almost as good as Walt, become deeply in over his head in the criminal underworld, and lose his soul in the process. It’s not the “potential” old Walt—before he became the criminal ‘Heisenberg’—likely intended. 

“Breaking Bad” is really a tale of two series. The first is Seasons 1-4, focusing on Heisenberg and Jesse ‘cooking’ and all the crime that entails. The second is Season 5, where all the events of the first four season spin violently out of control. “Breaking Bad” isn’t Walt’s rise and fall story; it’s just a fall. Gilligan and the directorial team paint that with unapologetic abandon. 

Cranston Disappears into ‘Heisenberg’

The series has a huge fan base with a 9.5/10 on IMDb. But where the show may be hard for some viewers is in how utterly dark it becomes. Early on, it’s easy to root for Walt. The guy’s got cancer, has no money, and his teaming up with Jesse in the first few seasons is wrought with tension and intrigue. Jesse, a small-time meth dealer, often pushes back against Walt’s brutal ambition and they make a good team. An interaction the two have with a local, psychopathic distributor, Tuco (Raymond Cruz) is fear-inducing. It’s also tense as Walt first tries to keep his cancer diagnosis—and his criminal secret—from his family. It’s here we start to see Walt’s ego fracture. He claims he’s a man that’s never been in control of his own life. The more violently he slips into the criminal underworld, the easier it is to shrug off his monstrous acts, acts which he rationalize as “for his family.” The viewers see what is going on long before Walt does. He does this for himself, but he’ll fight hair, tooth, and nail not to admit that to himself. 

Bryan Cranston disappears into Walt. I’ve only previously seen him in “Godzilla” and “Drive,” but here he outdoes himself, winning four Primetime Emmys in the process. The complexity of his character—making us love him one minute and hate him the next—is built on the layers Gilligan wrote and Cranston brings out. His calculating coldness often devolves into anxiety and fear. Sometimes it makes him feel more monstrous, and sometimes just more pathetic. Walt—through Cranston—becomes so good at lying to anyone and everyone it’s hard to tell fact from fiction. Many people watch this show for the best Heisenberg moments. But I feel that does his character a disservice. What we’re watching is a man succumbing to his more vicious and amoral nature after a life of playing the victim for so long he’s forgotten he isn’t one. 

Supporting Actors Aplenty

The supporting players are all excellent here, and there’s so many scenes that belong to their actors. Aaron Paul is awesome as Jesse, the “moral” compass of a show light on morals simply because he has a conscience. Seeing him go from unsure and troubled street kid to confident meth cook and—later—a trauma-broken young man, is something to see. By the end of the show, we’re rooting not for Heisenberg, but for Jesse. Paul makes him believable and endearing. He won three Primetime Emmy’s for his role of Jesse Pinkman, all deserved. 

There’s so many other characters, to mention them all would be an exercise in nauseam. The most likable to me were Hank Schrader, a DEA agent that can be both a hothead and a great father figure (despite not having kids), Saul Goodman (Bob Odenkirk), a sleazy lawyer so lovable he spun off into his own show, and Mike Ehrmantraut (Jonathan Banks), the muscle behind a meth operation that becomes the focal point of seasons 3 and 4. Aligned with this, special mention goes to Giancarlo Esposito. He plays the uber-villainous Gus Fring, a man scary in his silence and dead eyes. This list doesn’t even scratch the surface, but they are the main driving force. Scenes with Krysten Ritter (“Jessica Jones”) are fun yet heartbreaking. However others in Season 5 (such as Laura Fraser and Jesse Plemmons) seem added noise. Meanwhile Anna Gunn—as Skyler White—and her sister, Marie (Betsy Brandt) do their best with semi-thankless roles. R.J. Mitte is extremely likable. You often feel for Walt’s teenage son the most.

An Indictment of Many Toxic Things

A “review” of “Breaking Bad” fails to do it justice. Season-by-season it shocks you, and slowly—if you’re like me—a lot of it will be hard to get through as Walt/Heisenberg becomes so totally detestable. He’s not an anti-hero but a villain. But the series always makes you think. When monstrous people also have complicated feelings, it makes for a messy story. I feel that Vince Gilligan could have ended this show after Season 4—maybe that would have made the most sense. From there, “Breaking Bad” detaches the brakes and runs away downhill, destroying everyone and everything in the process. I take issue with the series’ final shot: even confronted with near-nothingness, Walt seems utterly incapable of reflection, empathy, or contrition—but only selfishness.

But maybe, under it all, the show is a tragic indictment of the American medical system, mental health failures, and how toxic masculinity and the need to “provide” can lead down dangerous paths. Walt could have addressed his emptiness years ago rather than drag everyone down with him in a terminal desire to feel something again. But, despite some of the series’ final season missteps (it all becomes a bit too much too fast), Cranston, Paul, and the ancillary characters drag us along. That even a smidge of us still wants to see Walt’s story through in the final episode’s dying moments—despite his utter inhumanity—is a testament to Cranston acting masterclass. The series ends with finality for Walt and many others, but not for Jesse. I look forward to watching “El Camino” next, followed, almost necessarily, by “Better Call Saul.” 

If you haven’t seen “Breaking Bad,” it’s a hard recommend. It’s violent, depressing, yet unavoidably hard to shrug off. Despair and soul death are rarely this visibly palpable. The series is currently available to stream on Netflix.