Breaking Bad

Prior to this weekend, of Breaking Bad I'd seen the pilot, maybe twice. Several important people in my life have had close relationships with the series. This first wintry weekend of the year I watched the following in order, with minimal synopses between, on recommendations from one source ordered to provide roughly two episodes per season:

• 1 - 1/7 "Pilot"
• 1 - 6/7 "Crazy Handful of Nothin'"
• 2 - 1/13 "Seven Thirty-Seven"
• 2 - 12/13 "Phoenix"
• 3 - 1/13 "No Más"
• 3 - 13/13 "Full Measure"
• 4 - 1/13 "Box Cutter"
• 4 - 10/13 "Salud"
• 4 - 13/13 "Face Off"
• 5 - 1/16 "Live Free or Die"
• 5 - 5/16 "Dead Freight"
• 5 - 9/16 "Blood Money"
• 5 - 14/16 "Ozymandias"
• 5 - 15/16 "Granite State"
• 5 - 16/16 "Felina"

Many people seem to judge television quality by a series' ability to hook the viewer. I was hooked by the experience this weekend in that I anticipated and rushed into each episode -- though not vigorously. While intensifying the effect by compressed schedule, it was only compensation for missing the momentum of all of those skipped episodes. Still it was an exciting sequence. But beyond all this, I can't judge television without a concept of film, to which I've dedicated much more of my life, or literature and the arts in general. And conscious as I am of how I spend my free time, I can't judge television independent of life. I'm a terrible judge of Breaking Bad for those skipped episodes. But I can't imagine justifying the series end-to-end, gapless. Have I seen enough of it to extrapolate my experience so coarsely? I believe so. Relative to other television, my sequence was artistic and human; but relative to opportunity cost for that time, the artistic and human value was negligible. I can't conceive sufficient gains in all I skipped to justify the time -- the sheer time. I wish time wasn't precious. At the end of the day, one of the most acclaimed television series in history is still television, and not just in format. I saw the first episode, the last, and many in between, supposedly the best, and each was thoroughly television. I wonder whether the medium will ever convince me it's risen above cheap archetype for more than a moment here and there. Breaking Bad may be as powerful as it's ever been, but falls drastically short of what I need out of an experience of this length. For the time invested I need something enriching the soul and teaching the mind. A powerful locomotive experience and mild addiction are not nearly enough. Well, there's a threshold for prioritizing stimulation, and Breaking Bad and television miss it.

The pilot surprised me as riddled with cliche -- typical, probably, for a pilot, but it surprised me nonetheless. As the series advanced this smoothed out, though I still never felt it transcended that framework. The framework is archetype, which keeps it an arm's length from real experience. A series is an interesting medium, but either a priori or a posteriori seems to necessarily depend on addiction to convince us the virtual experience is realer than it is. The pilot is exciting; every episode is exciting, which is non-trivial. Advanced episodes are even powerful beyond exciting; but archetype remains. I'm thinking of films that indulge and subsequently subvert filmic archetype effectively (Mulholland Drive and I'm Thinking of Ending Things); I don't think I've ever seen TV do it so effectively. It seems not self-conscious enough. But I'm certainly a television novice. Still, the opportunity-cost argument observes the extra time poured into a series, even if it does transcend archetype like the best of film. Some might argue the extra time is actually the essence of the medium's value -- we watch TV for the time poured in and its payoff. I've never experienced it like that. First, time is a treasure to me; second, time poured in has never added beauty or learning or personal growth or even truly sensational experience for me. And I give it the benefit of the doubt at least for the sensation, as to modern movies (and a couple modern video games). Come on, if nothing else, I should experience intense stimulation, which these products are engineered to serve, and to overwhelm my luddite tolerance for virtual reality. Why else is everyone obsessed? But every time I'm underwhelmed! Maybe I'm missing something. It's really upsetting to consider! It's alienating to get so little out of what everyone else spins their life around, or forms their life of. Usually it makes me think everyone else is tragically insane, though maybe once I considered they're happy, on the counsel of a friend. Mostly I know stuff like this, like Breaking Bad, doesn't add up for me -- I feel it and know it. I can't feel the value and I can't point to it, so I can't admit it. I appreciate Breaking Bad for an exciting weekend, for some artistic merit, for cunning, for maxing out its medium (for now), and for emotional gravity. I liked it -- I really did. And therefore I lament my sustained criticism, borne of bafflement. Why do people live like this?