Lacrima

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BREATHE
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"I deside what he deserves!"
Well, I guess this is the start of his downfall…

Jimmy knows his way around words.
Wow. But does he not take it?
He still is a laywer!
And he is loosing his hair.
Times up.
What does he plan with Mike?

"At the Moment you have Gus Fring's respect, I'd want to keep that if I where you"
He is going to go up at the top! He has the same way of thinking as Gus. Don't worry.

The Cousins are creepy as hell.
I know why the doctor was fine with trading his patient^^

"Howard is just polite."
Kim is right about what she says, but Howard couldn't do any different.
He just tries his best. He is the messenger and gets the blame.
As always.

"Lemme guess, 4000?"
Even after his death, Chuck finds a way how to show Jimmy how less he thought of him.
Sad.

"From now on: You. Are. Mine."
Fuck. Gus is no one to mess with.
Tensions are very high.
I still don't know if Nacho is still alive on "Breaking Bad".
Saul said: "It was Ignatio"
Was. Could go either way.
One thing is for sure:
War. Is. Coming.

You realise Gustavo is at the start of his power.
He gets his hands dirty.
He would be there, but wouldn't catch the guy himself.
Very subtle.

[7.5/10] What do I come to Rick and Morty for? Surprisingly thoughtful emotional material coupled with beaucoup sci-fi weirdness and sci-fi storytelling, and “Rickmancing the Stone” had that in spades.

Most of the episode takes place in a Mad Max-style wasteland, and while that setting already feels a little passe (that’s what you get for going a year and a half between seasons), it makes for a nice launching board for each of the characters to find their own way to deal with Beth and Jerry’s divorce.

My favorite of these is Morty’s. We’ve seen that Morty has deep-seated issues he doesn’t know how to process other than with rage and violence before (most notably in the purge episode) and so a Rick-injected murderous arm with a mind of its own proves to be just what the doctor ordered. It works for character development as whomping people in the “blood dome” helps him deal with his disgust at his dad’s lack of a backbone, but it also works for comedy, with the arm gesticulating and using sign language to try to communicate. Plus the heart-to-heart between them as the arm goes on a roaring rampage of revenge gives a nicely off-kilter texture to the whole thing.

Summer’s was less my favorite, but still good. Her dealing with her current issues with her dad by shacking up with the leader of the post-apocalyptic wasteland tribe (who was, I think, voiced by Joel McHale?) had some juice to it. (Their discussion about his mustache -- particularly the “hat on a hat” bit -- was especially funny.) The fact that Rick messes them up by bringing electricity and the same workaday B.S. of the real world is a fun twist, and Summer hugging her dad and appreciating his “this is all bullshit anyway” mentality is a nice bow to tie on the whole thing.

Rick is his usual amoral but story-driving self. I love his plot to try to create android to fool Beth. There’s something amusing about him trying to retrieve Morty and Summer despite his claims that there’s “infinite versions of them” because to find replacements would be more trouble than its worth. Plus the robots are hilarious, with Robo-Morty’s protestations that he wants to be “alive” and run through a stream being particularly funny in that pitch-black science fiction way that R&M does so well.

On the whole, this was a great episode to kick off the new season (aside from our April Fools Day preview) and to have the characters (and the show) process Beth and Jerry’s divorce rather than just move on like nothing happened.

(As an aside, I assume it’s Rick who’s causing the wind to whisper to Jerry that he’s a loser and having stray dogs chew up his unemployment check? Presumably to prolong this current situation and keep him from developing the stones to go after Beth again? Neat/characteristically horrible if so.)

[8.1/10] Ambiguity can be both frustrating and brilliant. There is a natural impulse in most people to want to know the answers, to resolve the unknown, but the unknown is also a part of life, and if a television show can harness that, use it to make meaning, it can hit outstanding notes. David Chase knew that with The Sopranos , his protégé Matt Weiner knew it with Mad Men, and Dan Harmon and Justin Roiland seem to know it with Rick and Morty.

Because the last thing you’re likely to think about when you flip off “The ABCs of Beth” (if you’re not reflecting on the amusingly self-aware answering machine gag) is whether or not Beth replaced herself with a clone and left to go mount the universe. Rick and Morty is a show that usually delivers answers, even if it’s content to delay them for months or, in the case of Evil Morty, even years. But maybe some questions shouldn’t be answered.

I think that’s the point of “The ABCs of Beth.” Rick gives his daughter two options: either she can create a painless substitute that will carry her current life forward while she prowls the galaxy in search of meaning or adventure, or she can live her life as is, knowing it’s what she actually chose with clear eyes and real alternatives on the table. The Beth we meet at the end of the episode could be either -- the content clone or the real, happy Beth who’s satisfied at having picked this rather than having it forced upon her.

That’s the cinch of the episode. For many of us sitting home, we have similar choices, even if they’re not quite so fantastical. We can radically change our lives, pursuing abstract principles and goals at the expense of all that we know, or we can go forward with how things are, finding comfort and joy in the day-to-day. There are multiple paths to happiness, Rick and Morty seems to posit, or at least multiple paths to wholeness, and which path you take there isn’t necessarily evident or comprehensible to an outsider observer. But it starts with accepting who you are and what you want.

That’s the noteworthy parallel “ABCs” draws between its outstanding A-story and its less-inspired B-story. Both Beth and Jerry spend much of the episode attempting to deny who they are, blaming unfortunate events on family members, rather than owning them, accepting that the consequences are a product of their own actions.

For Jerry, that means accepting that him dating an alien huntress is a pathetic attempt to make Beth jealous. It’s an interesting way to mirror the two stories, but Jerry’s half of the episode just isn’t as strong. Maybe it’s the hard-to-watch way his kids just bust on him constantly (not that he doesn’t deserve it). Maybe it’s the divorced dad humor that’s pretty tepid, even if it’s spiced up in Rick and Morty’s intergalactic fashion. Maybe it’s that the ultimate twist -- that the huntress ends up going after the Smiths, only run into her ex -- is amusing but predictable.

Jerry’s part of the episode isn’t bad or anything. The bubble gun is enjoyable. Jerry’s barely-sublimated space racism and smugness is used for amusing effect. And there’s some more frank exposing of Jerry’s true colors. But it mainly feels like Rick and Morty needed something for the rest of the cast to do while Rick and Beth hit the high notes, and little that happens in Jerry’s dating life, however explosive, can match it.

But really, who could match the horrible realization that not only was your childhood fantasy land real, but that your childhood friend is still stuck there in it. There’s so many endlessly interesting things that spin out from the unveiling of “Froopyland.” I’d be lying if I said that the reveal that Beth’s friend survived by “humping” the fantastical creatures and then eating his own children didn’t gross me out, but Rick and Morty manages to wring the humor from even that with its bizarre little forest creature play about it.

Stronger still is the emotional and character material. For one thing, we learn that Rick created this fantasy land for his daughter. He claims it’s a practical measure, something to keep her occupied and to keep the neighbors from getting suspicious. But as the Citadel episode hinted with its Rick wafers, there’s a part of Rick that really does care about his daughter, even if it means he shows it in weird ways like creating deranged toys, or letting her help him clone her childhood friend, or giving her a way out of her family.

For another, we learn that Beth, despite her seemingly greater morals and guilt and issues with her dad, is just like him. That’s been a subtle thread throughout Season 3, with particularly resonance in “Pickle Rick.” Beth admits it herself, realizing how she denies the utility of apologies, and elides her own mistakes and past by casting those things as simply how others interpret her greatness. Her unwillingness to face that she pushed her childhood pal in the honey pit, and her then getting into a bloody confrontation with him, is an odd form of self-acceptance, but also a cathartic one.

It leads Beth back to the choice that represents the crux of the episode. If you are the daughter of Rick Sanchez, the miserable, amoral, genius, do you go out and try to ride the universe until it gets tired of bucking you, or do you try a different way, a way that finds happiness in being a part of your family, in doing the everyday. It’s the clearest suggestion yet as to what choice Rick himself made when he left Beth and her mother all those years ago.

But as much as they have in common, Beth is not her father. She feels enough guilt to want to save her friend’s dad from death row, to look at those pictures of her family on the fridge and feel the wistfulness of the thought of leaving him. We just don’t know if that’s enough to change her mind.

Maybe we shouldn’t know. I bet dollars to donuts that one day we will, that the “real” Beth will come floating down in Season 5 and cause some story sparks just like Evil Morty and the Cronenberg Universe Smiths did. But regardless, the force of the ambiguity is clear. There are different ways to live, different ways to try to make your peace with who you are and what you want out of this universe. What we choose, and why we choose it, can be opaque, even to ourselves, and the art that reflects that vagueness, that uncertainty, can be all the stronger for it.

[7.4/10] I miss the approach -- popularized by The Wire and practiced by shows as distinct from it as BoJack Horseman -- of having the penultimate episode of the season be where the major fireworks go off. It gives you a chance to recover and collect yourself, as a show and an audience, in the actual season finale. And it helps avoid the sense in the lead-up to the end that you’re getting more setup than payoff until the show pulls the trigger on its biggest events of the season.

That’s the problem with “Wiedersehen”, a perfectly good but not outstanding episode of Better Call Saul. It’s not as though nothing happens in the show this week. Lalo Salamanca starts making overtures and feints toward Gus. Werner makes a daring escape from the workmen’s facility. And Jimmy not only faces a denial of his reinstatement, but in his rage and disbelief, manages to sabotage his relationship with Kim that had otherwise seemed on the mend. But all of this feels more like setting the table for the resolution of the finale than anything complete.

Now maybe everything falls into places in this year’s finale and in hindsight, “Wiedersehen” ends up looking like a brilliant prelude. And maybe, when you load up the second-to-last episode of the season with the big happenings of the season, you just make your third-to-last episode the setup episode instead. But it’s hard not to feel like this episode amounts to one big question (or, perhaps, three subsidiary questions) that Better Call Saul only intends to answer next week.

That’s the job of television in some ways. For as daring and stylistically audacious as Better Call Saul and its predecessor series can be, they’re also both sound in terms of the fundamentals and attuned to the core rhythms of television. The show still knows how to end on a cliffhanger, on a tease, on something to leave your jaw on the floor and make you desperate to tune in again next week to see how things resolve.

Rest assured, I’ll be there next week, there to find out whether tension between Gus and the Salamancas reaches the next level, whether Mike is forced to make a hard choice after his ostensible friend flies the coop, whether Jimmy can rescue his legal career or relationship or sense of self. But “Wiedersehen” left me wishing we could just head on to those parts of the story, not just because those teases are so tantalizing, but because this week’s proceedings feel incomplete and even a little insubstantial without the other half of what’s set up here.

That’s especially true for the Nacho/Lalo/Gus portion of the show. Lalo is still a new character, introduced more than three-quarters of the way into the season. ‘Wiedersehen” makes good on the promising setup we’ve seen since early in season 4 -- where Nacho is trapped between the exacting demands of Gus’s well-oiled machine and the unpredictable, trigger-happy Salamancas.

But there’s more promise than proof in this episode. Sure, the conversation between the poised but firm Gus and the loose, freewheeling Lalo is tense and portentous. The prospect of Lalo nosing around Gus’s meth-distribution site portends significant moments for all involved in the episode to come. For now though, this feels like the beginning of the story, the introduction, rather than the culmination, or even a turning point, in the story between Gus and Nacho that Better Call Saul has been toying with this year.

(Don’t get me started on Lalo giving Hector his infamous bell, replete with painful backstory. Maybe I’m still just smarting from the fan service excesses of Solo: A Star Wars Story, but by god, not every iconic snippet or feature or accessory of a character needs an origin story. Sometimes, people just get a bell, or a pair of dice, or something practical to help them communicate, and you don’t need some writerly monologue to deliver weak exposition on how a character came into possession of whatever the object du jour is.)

The same’s true for Werner’s great escape. There’s meat on the bone in that portion of the episode, both in terms of character and scene construction. Rainer Bock absolutely sells Werner’s desperation, his simmering distress at having to remain separated from his wife, his crumbling efforts to hold it together and put a good face on things and do his job. And he also sells Werner’s cleverness, the Walter White-esque ingenuity of a middle aged nerd to find ways to be a spanner in the works for an otherwise well-oiled machine. His ability to find weak spots in the facility, and disguise camera flashes as energy surges, frames him as resourceful and desperate man, and the show manages to communicate that almost solely through the images of the aftermath of his escape.

Series co-creator Vince Gilligan’s also on board to direct this one, which means more than the franchise’s cinematographic trademarks like a shot from inside the hole drilled for the dynamite. It means extended, slow burn, tactile sequences where Werner goes very Hurt Locker in trying to check for faulty wiring. As there often is in the show, there’s a foreboding energy as this gentle man is in a tight spot. His hyperventilation, strains to hold it together, and careful efforts to fix the problem are all stretched out expertly through Gilligan’s camera’s journey through the darkness.

Maybe that’s enough action for one episode, especially one that’s leading in to a presumably eventful finale. But it also can’t help but seem like the show is saving the real excitement -- the inevitable dilemma between Mike’s understanding of and affection for Werner and the duties of his job -- until next week.

But you can make the argument that we get the majorest of major happenings on the Jimmy/Kim side of the episode this week. (Though I suspect I might feel differently after the season finale.) “Wiedersehen” opens up with Jimmy and Kim pulling off another brilliant scheme. It turns out that Kim demuring on Kevin’s request to change the Mesa Verde designs in Lubbock wasn’t a sign of her regular work seeming dull in comparison to her con artist thrills, but rather a prelude to her combining the two to pull off a miracle for her client using a less than savory method.

The entire sequence of her and Jimmy -- posing as a crutch-hopping single mom with a deadbeat brother -- earning the trust and sympathy of the Lubbock clerk and pulling the ol’ switcheroo on the plans is another enjoyable outing for the pair. It plays in the space this show has long lived in -- between wanting to pass judgment on these people for fraud and manipulation, but having so much fun watching them work. But a good con doesn't fix what’s eating Jimmy, his renewed and once-again rejected efforts to have Kim be his partner in law, not just his partner in crime.

That comes to a head when, after a trademark Jimmy McGill performance in front of the review board, his request for reinstatement is rejected. He gives all the right answers to the questions, quotes Supreme Court decisions, includes letters of recommendation, talks about what the law means to him. But he never mentions Chuck, the ghost who’s been haunting this season of Better Call Saul and proves a hindrance to Jimmy’s life even from beyond the grave.

Despite some complicated things going on under the surface, Jimmy has tried to separate himself from Chuck, to move past things, and so he expresses no remorse for what happened with his brother, what effect it had on Chuck’s life, anything specific to the man who used to be the most significant presence in Jimmy’s life. So of course he doesn't mention his brother at his hearing, and it’s what eventually dooms him.

It’s too much for Jimmy to bear. He acts out in a way we’ve rarely seen before. He feels the frustration of a year’s worth of (comparatively) good behavior down the drain, with another year in the offing. He experiences the despondency of expectations being punctured. And worst of all, he takes it out on Kim.

It’s a point I’ve probably beaten into the ground by this point, but Kim has stepped into the role that Chuck used to play for Jimmy. There’s loads of complicated consequences of that, but one of the biggest is that Jimmy projects his insecurities and his anger toward his brother onto her. He lashes out at her for seeing him as insincere, for seeing him as a “low life”, for thinking he’s not good enough to share an office with, charges he might as well be leveling at his dead brother.

Kim, to her credit, pushes back, pointing out how many times she’s been there for Jimmy, how often she looks out for him, takes care of him, drops everything to clean up his messes. There is this one pinnacle dream that Jimmy uses as the yardstick to measure whether he’s loved, overlooking all the other ways in which he has an incredibly good thing going that he sure as hell shouldn’t mess up in fit of pique after a bad disciplinary hearing.

But that’s what happens. I’m done trying to predict whether or not the Kim/Jimmy relationship will end, but after a brief dead cat bounce, there’s enough acrimony that Jimmy starts packing up his stuff. Issues that have been bubbling under the surface for both people in this couple breach here, and it’s hard to know whether things can be put back together.

The title “Wiedersehen” -- a German word meaning “meet again” or “reunion” -- suggests there’s more to come, another chance for Kim to help Jimmy become a lawyer again, through an appeal or a hail mary or whatever new scheme the duo can come up with. But damage has been done. That much is undeniable.

Even then, it feels like there’s more to the story. Season 4 of Better Call Saul has been superb as ever, but also interstitial. After the incredible build that gave us the McGill bowl and Chuck’s death in season 3, the show has been in reaction mode. It gives us the rocky road of Jimmy’s recovery, Kim reckoning with what she’s been a part of, Nacho falling into a tug of war between Gus and the Salamancas, and Mike starting his work with Gus in earnest. The former two are post scripts to stories, and the latter two seem like the beginnings of new ones. It remains to be seen whether the series will give us any resolution at all in its season finale or, like “Wiedersehen”, is waiting for something greater to come.

If you feel strangely sad at the funeral scene, it's because it's sinking in: we will no longer have the brilliant Michael McKean in this show :(

Overall it was a slow episode, even by Better Call Saul standards, but that's understandable considering where we pick up from. Chuck is gone and Jimmy, Kim and Howard have an increasingly strong feeling that it was no accident. I like the fact that Jimmy started the day happily, probably doing his best to brighten up Kim's morning (she only just got involved in her car crash despite it feeling like a year and a half for us) but then... stark contrast in his character during almost the entire episode as he deals with what happened to Chuck.

Jimmy's ridiculous reaction at the end suggests that far from mourning his brother, his biggest concern all along was whether he would be the one to blame for Chuck's mindset - but once he can pin it on Howard, it's all good, man. However, I think this is a coping mechanism and he truly mourns Chuck/feels guilty, which will likely manifest through destructive behaviour during the season. We saw the beginnings of a shift towards the Saul we know after his friend Marco died (end of season 1) and that wasn't even his fault... but Chuck's demise may be the point of no return.

Other than that, we had Mike doing Mike things - in this case, an infiltration in Madrigal. I thought he was trying to find out something specific, but in the end it seems he was actually working as a security consultant, which I could see becoming an issue for Lydia/Gus... but it's definitely too early to tell. One thing is for sure, there's an eerie entertainment value in the most mundane scenes with Mike, I feel like if it was 40 minutes of that I would still be fine.

One thing I love about Vince Gilligan and his team is this habit of repeating the last moments of one particular scene from the previous finale in a season premiere. They do this since Breaking Bad and I always love it because it brings you back to that moment immediately without trying to dump information on your brain while you actively try to remember the details. You don't have to be like "ohhhh right, Hector had a stroke, Gus looked at Nacho" because they show you, then continue it. On that side of things there was not a lot more other than Nacho and the other gentleman receiving orders from Bolsa... and Gus identifying a new opportunity and mentioning DEA.

(First thought: Gus' Spanish seems to have improved, which was terrible in BrBa, but they also have him talk less so far)

(Second thought: is Hank going to show up?)

I almost forgot to mention the intro but there isn't a lot to say, really. I'm starting to think these little teaser scenes of the future are... just that, teasers. Which is not a bad thing exactly, yet could be disappointing for viewers expecting more. But I could be wrong, they could always be saving some surprises, I guess it all depends on them using these future scenes in episodes other than premieres.

[9.0/10] Not since The Sopranos has there been a show on television so devoted to examining the psyches of its characters. I feel like I need to rewatch this episode five times to truly unpack everything there is to glean from such a dense, psychologically complex episode. If there’s been a consistent theme to Season 3, it’s been digging deep into what makes the show’s main characters tick, what makes them who they are, and “Rest and Ricklaxation” both literalizes that (by separating its title characters into their constituent parts) and plays it out in fascinating, emotionally-wrenching detail.

The impetus for that is Rick and Morty going into a psychological toxin-clearing chamber at an intergalactic spa. The catch is that the chamber doesn’t just free you from harmful it elements, it removes those elements, personified as “booger” versions of you, and keeps them trapped in a chamber. So while the real Rick and Morty are feeling happier and more relaxed in the real world, the concentrated toxic parts of them are caught in the chamber working frantically to get out.

The initial results seem predictable, if a little twisted. Toxic Rick is even more hateful and self-aggrandizing than Real Rick. He’s constantly touting his own genius, constantly belittling Morty, and constantly lashing out at the world. Toxic Morty is entirely self-hating and debased, little more than a subservient wart of a person accepting any and all abuse.

What’s interesting is that it seems to flip the good/evil dynamic in Healthy Rick and Healthy Morty. While Healthy Rick feels compelled to rescue their toxic counterparts once he knows of their existence, Healthy Morty likes his own happiness and is constantly resisting any attempt to set things back the way they were under a the guise of not questioning it.

Now splitting protagonists into their good and evil sides is nothing new. (Lord knows the Star Trek franchise returned to that well time and time again.) But the twist, and the thing that makes the episode really stand out from the pack, is that the divergence point for “healthy” Rick and Morty isn’t some arbitrary definition of toxicity, it’s what they themselves view as the toxic parts of their being.

Which leads to all kinds of interesting complications, not the least of which is that Toxic Rick isn’t just some personification of bad, and Healthy Morty isn’t some noble personification of good. It’s a brilliant, fascinating choice to depict Healthy Morty as this honest but heartless, manipulative douchebag. The things that Morty sees as toxic in himself -- his self-doubt and self-loathing -- weigh down an overconfidence and disregard for others’ that, left unchecked, turn him into an uberpopular, successful stock broker, but one who doesn’t really care about anything else or anyone.

It’s a deranged echo of Inside Out’s thesis that negative emotions are vital and valid and help make us stronger individuals. There is something so frighteningly recognizable about Healthy Morty, between his offhand quips about his food being organic to maxims about saying important things face-to-face that reveal a deeper soulless beneath despite all the crowd-pleasing pablum. Toxic Morty isn’t a pretty sight or an encouraging reflection of the real Morty -- he’s deeply unhappy, horribly self-defeating, and outright declares that he wants to die. But the idea that these are the things keeping Morty from becoming a wide-eyed, smiling little monster is one of the boldest and darkest takes this show has offered on one of its main characters.

But that’s only half the impact of the twist. The other, and arguably more foundational reveal in the episode is that Rick really does care about the people in his life, at least Morty, but he views that as toxic, as “irrational attachments” he’d rather overcome. It’s striking in that it answers one of the basic questions the show has been teasing out forever now -- whether despite his protestations to the contrary, Rick loves his family. “Rest Ricklaxation” suggests that he does, but it’s something he hates in himself, which explains how and why he’s always trying to disclaim any such affections.

Rick may acknowledge the other parts of his personality as “toxic.” He admits narcissism, of disregard for the rest of the universe in favor of his own brilliance. But without that, without the parts of him he views as holding him back psychologically, he only has a general care for the world, about the impartial welfare of all, without any personal attachments to his grandson or anything else. The episode digs into who Rick and Morty are, what they hate about themselves, and the people they become without that, which tells you so very much about the show’s title characters.

Meanwhile, amidst all this deep psychological examination is an episode that just works on a nuts and bolts level. The conflict of reconciling toxic and healthy versions of Rick and Morty propels the episode nicely. Seeing a Rick-on-Rick battle throughout the Smiths’ house is thrilling with plenty of creative turns. Healthy Morty’s quiet psychopathy builds and builds keeping a comedic hum the whole time. And there’s even some amusing social commentary as Rick’s toxicity ray covers the globe and Morty’s restaurant acquaintance yells out “sea cucumber!” The main event of “Rest and Ricklaxation” is the show boring into the mental processes and damage of its protagonists, but it keeps the tension and the excitement up for what could otherwise be an overly cerebral exercise.

Like nearly all sitcoms must, it then returns things to the status quo. But while for most shows that’s a return to normalcy and sanity, for Rick and Morty it means returning those two characters to the fraught place where they began the episode. One of the most harrowing scenes in the entire series is the two of them sitting in Rick’s craft in the intro. Morty cries; Rick screams in anguish and admits he wasn’t in control, and the episode doesn’t turn away from the unnerving distress and damage these two individuals have accumulated over the course of their adventures.

This is what the combination of good and bad in Rick and Morty gets them. There’s the sense that both need that balance, to keep them tethered and, in different ways, to keep them caring about people, but the results of that cocktail -- of self-glorification and self-loathing, of brash confidence and debasement, of personal fulfillment and global concern -- doesn’t create a pretty picture for our heroes either.

[8.6/10] One hell of a premiere and one hell of a surprise. It delivered what I want from a show like Rick and Morty -- crazy, imaginative, absolutely insane sci-fi experimentation and adventure, with dark introspective emotional and character material to support it. The bits of the sci-fi weirdness, from Inception-like brain journeys to transferred consciousness to battles between disparate forces in space were colorful and mind-bending the whole way through.

But what I really loved about this episode was how it asked (and maybe answered) the question I was left asking at the end of the last episode -- what motivates Rick Sanchez? Is he a hero, as Summer thinks, a demon or crazy god like Morty thinks, or somebody whose motivations are just so opaque and arbitrary that he more or less defies that sort of characterization? The episode seems to give a troubling answer, one that pulls away from the way Rick was softened over the course of S2, but it spends most of the episode teasing you in either direction, making you think he's a hero or on an opportunist or an amoral crackpot or just a complicated guy.

I'm not sure I'm any more clarified on what he wants or what kind of guy he is than I was before (and Morty clearly still has its issues), but I love the way the show leans into that complexity, even amid the crazy science fiction wonderment and disaster taking place all around.

On the whole, this was one thrill of a surprise premiere that sets the stage for the rest of the season, changes enough of the status quo to make things meaningful, and delivers another exploration of what makes Rick tick, and how that affects his grandchildren, without giving any easy answers.

[8.8/10] Better Call Saul has never been closer to Breaking Bad. That’s not just because the episode opens with this show’s first glimpse of Jimmy as the Saul Goodman we met on the prior show, in the midst of his fleeing from justice. It’s just because Gus Fring seems to nail down the plans for the facility that will one day be Walter White’s laboratory. It’s not just because Jimmy visits The Dog House, the fast food restaurant and hangout where Jesse Pinkman sold meth.

It’s because this is an episode about people who are outstanding at what they do, who have near unrivaled skills, and what direction that takes them in. That was the larger story of Breaking Bad, a story about a man who had an undeniable talent, and who could not set it aside when the recognition and lucre came with a side of human misery, and who didn’t know when to walk away until it was too late. It’s a show that lived on the conflicted thrills of watching someone so skilled ply their craft, and earned its emotional resonance from both the uncertainty and foreboding sense of where it would lead him.

“Quite a Ride” positions Jimmy in the same way, as someone who has a gift for persuasion, the ability to make an anthill sound like Mount Everest, and a lack of scruples that mean he doesn't mind skirting the law if it suits him. The difference is that Walt was running from a life he resented, whereas Jimmy seems to be running from his own grief.

There’s a version of Jimmy that could maybe have been happy, at least temporarily, working at the mobile phone store in a semi-normal way. Sure, his efforts to convince a passing customer that he can evade the taxman by buying these phones that are allegedly selling like hotcakes isn’t exactly on the up-and-up, but it’s a pretty straight job by Jimmy’s standards.

But it’s not enough, at least not when he has a moment of quiet, a moment to let his grief catch up with him. Sitting on the couch, watching Dr. Zhivago, Jimmy starts to tear up, as the pain of the events with his brother seem to flood back in a way he’s been able to keep at bay. So Jimmy turns to his drug of choice, his favorite distraction, and the thing that makes him feel better than anything else -- a nice, lucrative hoodwink.

He buys a heap of burner phones from his own store, and ventures to The Dog House to unload them to whatever criminal element is around to purchase them, in another one of the show’s sterling montages. There’s a sense in these scenes that Jimmy is both at the top of his game, but also wants to be punished for it. He doesn't know when to leave well enough alone, and seems to be pulled between the part of himself that wants to see exactly how far his talents will take him, and the part that wants to push him into something so bad that it’ll be the wake up call that snaps him out of this.

That wake up call comes. It doesn't happen when Jimmy wanders into a crowd of bikers who are enough to scare away the rest of the riff raff. It happens when the three young hoods who turned him down earlier in the night rough him up and take his spoils from the evening. He returns home, worse for wear, and after a sweet scene of Kim tending to his wounds, he agrees to go to the shrink she recommended.
He seems to realize that this isn’t healthy, and enough is enough. Just the image of Kim standing across from him, a symbol of his conscience and the better life he can have, is enough to spur him to be better and not let another night like this happen again.

Kim, however, is running as well. Instead of grief, she’s running from guilt, and instead of devolving further into a life of questionable morality, she’s hurtling herself headlong into an effort to regain her ethical moorings. That means working as a public defender in her spare time, going toe-to-toe with the same local prosecutor that Jimmy himself used to joust with. But unlike Jimmy, Kim isn’t just using subterfuge and bombast to get criminals off. She’s using prosecutorial screw-ups to hold the other side accountable, telling the young man she works out a deal for to get his life right or she won’t be there to bail him out, and goes above and beyond to help a young woman too scared to show up to court do what she needs to do.

This is all wildly successful, because Kim is damn good at what she does. She knows how to put the prosecution through their paces; she knows how to read a young screw-up the riot act in the hopes that he won’t be back here, and she knows how to be sympathetic but forceful with her clients who need both a helping hand and a little push.

The problem is that it means Kim is shirking her responsibilities elsewhere, specifically with Mesa Verde. She blows off a call from Paige, her contact at the bank, so that she can see things through with her pro bono client. It’s the negative image of Jimmy’s choices in this episode -- a decision that’s foolish and a little self-destructive, but noble, and one Kim promises never to make again. Both Kim and Jimmy are trying to regain their souls, but in very different ways, and for very different reasons, even if both use their god-given skills to great effect in the process.

Mike is employing his expert skills as well. The top of the line, undetectable meth lab that Gus is putting together is part of his grand plan, and so he needs people he can rely on. That’s why he brings in Mike to scout the architects for his place. For one thing, Mike’s shown -- through his escapades at Madrigal -- that he knows how to cover every detail to make sure that their illicit dealings aren’t found out or shut down -- something the show again conveys with a great visual sequence involving point of view shots from under a hood and communicating the passage of time through quick cut changes in sound and lighting in the back of a rocky van.

But he also knows people, like we saw last week, and he can tell when someone is blowing smoke at him and when someone’s being straight. That’s why Gus trusts him, and why Mike sends the boastful guy who claims he can build the lab in six months packing. And it’s why when Werner Ziegler, the nauseous German architect who tells his would-be employer straight up that the job is not impossible, but that it will be difficult, time-consuming, and expensive. Mike and Gus are birds of a feather, they’re frank, thorough, and careful, and it means when taking on a project of this size, they want people who’ll treat it the same way.

We know, though, that no matter how cautious Mike and Gus are, how close they come to bringing this long-brewing plan to fruition, that it all ends in ruin. No matter how well you plan, how good you are at what you do, there are unpredictable elements that can disrupt everything. For Gus Fring, that unpredictable element is Walter White, but for Jimmy McGill, it’s Howard Hamlin.

After his incident with the burners and the muggers, Jimmy seems on the straight and narrow again. But then, during a trip to the courthouse to check in as part of his suspension, he runs into Howard in the bathroom, who looks worse for wear. This typically ever-composed individual is out of sorts, looking disheveled, complaining about insomnia, and stressing over a case that he admits isn’t particularly significant. It’s clear -- to both Jimmy and the audience -- that Chuck’s death has gotten to Howard, that’s Kim’s speech landed, that the very thought is torturing him. It’s enough for Jimmy to offer some kindness, recommending the same shrink that Kim passed on to him.

It’s then that the worm turns. Howard tells Jimmy that he’s already seeing a therapist twice a week. It’s startling admission to Jimmy, one that changes his path yet again. Howard has all the advantages Jimmy doesn't -- his wealth, his position, and his father’s name. He has lived as traditionally successful a life as someone like Jimmy could imagine, the kind of life Jimmy was once trying to emulate.

But Howard is haunted by the same grief Jimmy is, and he’s no better for all the more that he has. Howard’s visible unmooring in the wake of the same loss sends a message to Jimmy -- that following the right path, doing what’s expected of you, doing things the normal way, don’t get you where Jimmy wants to go, and don’t seem to make you better either. So when he speaks to the D.A. about his plans after reinstatement, he speaks of wanting to go bigger, go better. His refuge from grief is his refuge from everything -- to follow his talents to their apex until it either makes his dreams come true or leads to his end.

“Quite a Ride” suggests the former rather than the latter. We know the heights that Jimmy will hit: the Saul Goodman billboards and commercials running 24/7, the suitcase full of money, the cheesy but lucrative law office he maintains. But we also know his fall, his paranoid, button-down life as Cinnabon Gene, that requires him to be demure and inconspicuous, the greatest punishment there is for someone like Jimmy.

And maybe “Quite a Ride” suggests and end even beyond there. After Jimmy is laid out by the thugs who rob him, he lays on the ground in pain as the camera pulls back skyward. It’s the same shot Breaking Bad used in Walt’s final moments. It’s a visual echo and a portent, one that seems to preview what a myopic quest to make use of your own greatest talent, regardless of the ethical or practical consequences for you and the people you love, gets you. We know where that sort of quest ended for Walt, and as he veers ever nearer to going full Saul, Jimmy gets a taste of that too.

Better Call Saul has never been closer to Breaking Bad, and that’s bad news for Jimmy McGill.

Ahhhhhh i’m so happy they are not shying away from the tough conversations on what it means to be Captain America in this decade. I love symbolism in storytelling and there’s no stronger symbol than that shield, and the way they have used it as a vehicle and representative of the different American identities (good and (really) bad) has been incredible.

Steve Rogers, John Walker, Sam Wilson and Isaiah Bradley all represent sides of the US that co-exist, and John Walker being the effective Captain America for most of this show isn’t accidental - he’s the side of America that’s most present and salient right now (in the world off the screen), but ending the show with Sam Wilson carrying that shield - and going through all the issues that that might bring up - is as powerful a message as any - one of hope and of what the US should aspire to be. Steve Rogers is no longer enough, Steve Rogers is the American Dream - Isaiah Bradley the American Reality - and Sam Wilson is both. This show, and all of Captain America’s storyline, is about so much more than just men in spandex and they’ve done a fantastic job taking it even further here. Glad Marvel is still delivering after so many years, makes me proud to be a fan!

Valerie is my favorite number so it was a privilege getting to see it for a second time, it made me happy seeing brittany, mike and santana singing and dancing together again.
That Toxic performance was amazing!!! With no doubt better than the original. And I’m so happy Heather is back -I understand she took a break cause of her pregnancy, but Brittany was really missed. And I’m glad they invited Dianna back even tho I still don’t understand why she wasn’t invited for Cory’s episode.
The one thing I didn’t like was Mercedes participating in that petty and childish competition, I feel like that situation is beneath her and she knows she is super talented and she is successful as a pop star and Rachel is successful as a broadway performer.
I just wanna say that Rachel’s always been and continues to be an awful person, she was a bully too but somehow she changed that narrative and claims to be the victim, just think about everything she did to kurt, mercedes, tina, sunshine, even finn and quinn too, but she’s bitter that she never got to bully Santana, and she wants to know why real life still feels like hs? Cause she keeps acting childish, bitter and petty! Also I’m really tired that they keep singling out Quinn and Santana as bullies (and even Puck) when Q and S never messed up with M (maybe they threw her a slushie, I’m not sure) but overall S and M were friends, and I think Puck stopped being a bully to them after he joined the club, and he was only the bad boy, but never in the 100 episodes Q or S told M she wasn’t talented so I don’t know what she’s talking about, and again Rachel was a bully and a terrible person so it’s fair if Q and S were calling her out.
Also it’s so cringe to watch Tina becoming Rachel’s adoring fan, like why reduce tina to that??
And again Will Schuester proving that he’s a terrible human being, he is so ungrateful to April when she literally donated 2 MILLION DOLLARS to the auditorium/club and he misspent it and wasted it away and has the nerve to blame it on April and demand more money????

They always put Kurt through the hardest stuff, he is so brave and resilient, and an inspiration!!!
Rachel is just wrong in the head! Like okay maybe while in college you realize it isn’t for you our you have to prioritize your job cause you need the paycheck to survive and that’s valid but what she is doing is not like that, she just threw a fit cause she felt entitled to even extra special considerations, even tho the dean had already given her a second chance, and since she didn’t got what she wanted she thought dropping out would give her the upper hand, at least finish your semester or complete your exam, or like be grateful to the dean who since the beginning has been given you the special treatment, like leave in good terms! The whole situation speaks so poorly of her, she could be dropped out of funny girl and then she could have nothing, but since it’s rachel world probably all is gonna be okay with her and her career.
And when Sam and Mercedes announced their relationship I totally noticed Rachel being all jealous, speaking only of the show and rachel, she would never move on just a few months after Finn and especially not with his friend.

I kind of enjoyed this episode and that has everything to do with the fact that the parents got a bit more screentime and that for a second it looked like something really shocking was about to happen in this Gargoyle garbage which of course didn`t really.
I like seeing more of Cheryl and Toni but there has to be more there, there is not enough story there to truly get in touch with the characters. I'm actually a little relieved that Jug and Betty weren't a focuspoint of this episode, it's refreshing to see some other characters for a change, like Kevin and Josie.

Josie and Archie is a good match, way better than Varchie in my opinion and speaking of Veronica, can she possibly get more annoying? yes, of course she can. It's all about her and when her boyfriend tells her that his dad beats him up, oh well...

I liked how the parents all came together for this game and the safety of their children and that when the threat seems real that all of them come through for their kids even the ones who pretend to not care at all about their kids like Penelope. It's the little things in storylines like that that make the difference.

It is a total let down that they managed to bring forth ANOTHER Gargoyle King. How long can they stretch this out?

After 11 years I finally got to finish the show! It was painful especially after this year’s tragedy but this show was all about bringing joy, so even in the worst episodes I enjoyed it.
I have to admit I was rooting for Sue! I don’t know what her goal was but even tho she can be an awful person I will always root for her.
Mr Schue’s goodbye song to the glee alumni felt kinda off because of all the new kids there (not jane and them but the newest kids), I wish it was only for the older glee club members.
I’m so happy for Sam! He is gonna be a great teacher, he’s always been a good leader who cares about others and all he wanted was a home and a peaceful life, tho I hate that they kinda dumbed him down.
The winner takes it all number was amazing! For me glee was always about the school, Will and Sue, like they were the soul of the show, so that’s why when they moved the show to NY it felt completely wrong, so that number was amazing and a great send off to Sue! Who is now into greater stuff.
Mercedes was so dramatic with her good bye song! Like she still is gonna go home and meet them in NY or LA and you can text and facetime with them, these kids wouldn’t survive a day in quarantine! But I’m so happy she achieved her goal!
So I don’t wanna sound bitter but I have to be honest and say that I hated the last number, even in its last seconds and with all the cast reunited, they had to make it all about rachel berry, when again the show was never about her! But I’m gonna focus on the positive and say I’m so happy we got almost everyone back (I totally understand about Melissa), my favorite moment was Matt and Mike reunited dancing!! Lauren Sizes too! When Unique came out with Jake! Quinn! Sugar! Brittana! So I loved seeing everyone!!
And loved the flash forwards, especially Sue’s! And I loved seeing Tinartie/tartie/artina together! They were always a good match. And I liked that Rachel and Jesse were together! Two awful people who make each other better, I guess.
The one thing was missing was an unholy trinity flash forward!!!
Lastly I just wanna give a shout out to Emma cause she was literally the only teacher who cared about the students! And I wish we got to see more of her.
glee started off as an amazing innovative groundbreaking spectacular show but Sadly along the way it lost itself, specially after facing some obstacles, but I have to say the main obstacle was the show runners being so blind and not believing in its cast members and their talent (the glee kids 2.0 and 3.0 deserved better!), oh and giving one actress so much power, if all the allegations are true she caused so much hostility and was the reason some other cast members got demoted or not even invited back to some episodes and felt uncomfortable on set, so it’s really sad that a show that was all about community rewarded a terrorist.
I would love to see a continuation set in 2026 or so with a new glee club (different school/city) but with sue being president, mr schue being a nytimes best selling author, miss jones being the biggest pop star ever, artie being a famous film director. (If this ever happens please remember me and Ryan you can contact me)
Thank you glee, thank you cory, thank you naya!

Jimmy takes a bus ride out of New Mexico and spends his time writing letters and postcards with the help of other riders as well. Mike takes the Germans out to a strip club and Werner to a bar. Kai stirs up trouble and Mike goes to bail him out and Werner spills some details about the superlab to men at the bar and Mike takes him home. Jimmy comes back home and prepares his office at the nail salon to function as a call centre. The "fake" letters make its way to the judge and Suzanne insists on finding out what makes Huell so special. The phone numbers included on the letters are the phones Jimmy has and pays his filmcrew to play improv if the DA's office calls. Huell's sentence is reduced and Jimmy and Kim celebrate. Soon after, Kim tells Jimmy she wants to do something like that again. (Why Kim??) Mike tells Gus they're about halfway done the superlab but still way behind schedule. Nacho takes some time to reflect on his life before becoming part of the drug world and a new Salamanca at the restaurant makes Nacho worry about how things might change. This episode left me with a wide grin on my face stunned to think that when Jimmy has run out of ideas to do something wild, something new comes along.

[9.5/10] “My man!” So much to love in this one. The main story is so much fun, with all the humor the show wrings from the weak details of the simulated world (I love the pop tart driving a toaster bit). The aliens’ inability to deal with nudity, the expectedly great performance from David Cross, and using complicated crowd instructions to overwhelm the computer’s processors are all great elements. Heck, even the “simulation within a simulation” business, and the glee with which Rick and the aliens one-up each other, makes for an inventive and enjoyable adventure.

But my favorite part is Jerry’s story. The fact that Jerry not only doesn’t realize in the low-CPU end of the simulation, but has his most meaningful and fulfilling life experience in it, walks the line between tragedy and comedy so perfectly they should invent a new theater mask for it. The broken processing gags are familiar to anyone who’s played a glitching video game, and Jerry’s obliviousness to everything, and his emotional journey projected onto these blank slates, is just brilliant.

Overall, it’s noteworthy how confident and command R&M was out of the gate here, with a fun sci-fi adventure with an unassumingly dark bit at its core.

[7.5/10] I liked this one a bit better than the last episode. The misadventures with the descendents of the most noteworthy witch and witch hunter were more amusing that the baby switcheroo act, and we got some more Sheen/Tenant goodness, which helped.

As to the former, I like the notion that Pulcifer, the modern version at least, is just an unlucky sap. He can’t deal with anything electronic, and has the worst luck overall, which makes him endearing as a sort of sad sack “didn’t ask for this” witch hunter. By the same token, adding Michael McKean to the proceedings is never a bad way to go with your show! The notion of the two of them leading a nutball witch hunt is promising.

The actual witch (or witch descendent) was reasonably entertaining too. I like the idea that for once, there’s a psychic who actually makes useful and accurate predictions, and that her family uses them to get ahead. I’m curious as to where they’re going with Anathema, and the whole bike/book mixup has potential as well.

I’ll admit, I haven’t really latched onto Adam’s quartet of kids just yet. Sure, there’s something cute enough about them misunderstanding history or playacting the British (nee Spanish) Inquisition (ole!). But it hasn’t really gotten a lot of laughs out of me yet, and I know we’re only two episodes in, but I keep waiting for a little more. It occurs to me that we might be in for a twist where it’s the third baby who’s really the antichrist but I may be grasping at straws there.

That said, I still think that the show is a solid 40% better when it’s just the misadventures of Aziraphale and Crowley. The two of them going on the hunt for the birth records of the original antichrist is especially amusing. Aziraphale’s stuffiness and generally creampuffery mixed with Crowley’s dash of sarcasm and devil’s foodcake is still a superb recipe.

I also like the little cheats here and there. Crowley helping Aziraphale with his stain, or having the corporate teambuilding paintball match turn into one with real guns that nevertheless involves beaucoup miraculous escapes hints at a nicer streak within him. And it’s just as fun to see Crowley himself get mad and threatening when Aziraphale almost calls him out on it.

The bike crash incident is amusing as well, with the pair using their powers in fun ways to try to keep Anathema from getting suspicious. I also got a kick out of Gabriel in the book shop making alien attempts to be discreet. At times, you can still see the strings of this show trying to capture a certain tone and voice that works in literature but is hard to translate to a different medium, but this episode fared a little better on that front.

Overall, I’m still in this for the angel/demon team-up moments much more than I’m in it for any of the other apocalyptic shenanigans, but the show had a better balance of that this time around, which helped.

Jimmy becoming Saul is complex and this episode dug further and gave birth to his transformation.

1. Respect. All of life, Jimmy craved respect. Underneath it all, we learned that Jim is a good guy and a people pleaser. But he wasn't able to earn respect from people he value the most -- his late brother Chuck and his confidant and lover Kim.

2. Reformation. Jimmy has tried to shed his "Slippin' Jimmy" past with hard work and generosity. But people still see him as "Slippin' Jimmy". His breakdown after scholarship speech was the final draw.

Armed with charisma and limitless persistence, Jimmy is now reborn as Saul set out to climb to the top of the building.

The flip side is Mike. Underneath his hard exterior is a deeply damaged man who is forced to push almost everyone away so that he can have a full control over his deeply damaged life.

Every time he takes full measures, he becomes more damaged. On this episode, he gave all he can to save Werner, but deep inside, he knew that wasn't going to work. It would be a half measure. His defense is impeccable attention to details and planning but that didn't work this time.

An amazing season finale for an amazing season.

[8.3/10] Look, I know it’s important that stories have conflicts and that six-hour shows expand their reach beyond just two people and that you need rising and falling action and all that good stuff. But damnit, I would watch the hell out of a version of Good Omens that was just “Aziraphale and Crowley hang out throughout history.”

The section of the episode before the opening credits is just so damn fun! Beyond the amusement of the costumes, and the takes on different biblical or historical moments, and the continually great banter between the angel and the demon, you just have lots of fun developments. Everything from the unicorn missing Noah’s arc, to the triple cross of the Nazis, to the secret history of why Hamlet was such a hit are all brilliant.

But I also love these segments as a way to show millennia-long bits of character development in between those two. I really like Michael Sheen’s performance in these segments, the way that he questions the brutality of old testament justice and seems appalled at the violence, but is so conditioned (and frankly repressed) that he refuses to the plan. I also really like how Crowley convinces himself he’s as evil as ever, but throughout history pops in to help his dear friend when he needs it. And I particularly like the way that, through the ages, the two slowly discover a certain futility to the way that they’re continually canceling one another out, and decide to just lay low and enjoy themselves and even help one another out rather than fighting to a stalemate between good and evil.

Despite all that, I think my favorite part is Aziraphale’s refusal to let his friend risk or even end his life. Even though the show has had its semi-dramatic moments at times, it’s been pretty irreverent, so digging into Aziraphale’s line in the sand about the holy water, only to show him bending and finally outright breaking the rules for his friend, sells the impact of their friendship on one another. That adds real weight to the final scene where the pair “break-up”, which feels both impactful given the history and change between them we’ve just witnessed, and has a certain combination of drama and humor to it given how the pair can seem like an old married couple at times.

The rest of the goings-on in the episode are fine. I’ll admit, I’m not quite sure what to make of Adam being influenced by Anathema and using his powers to neutralize nuclear power plants, but it’s an interesting development. The discovery that Aziraphale and Crowley’s “agents” turn out to be the same conspiracy nut is a funny one. And I like how Pulcifer discovers something genuinely witchy, that just happens to point him to the town where the real antichrist lives. (I also like that it’s something as subtle as always-perfect weather, and bits like “Lieutenant Milkbottle” are worth a laugh.)

Still, the heart of the episode comes from the way it focuses most squarely on the friendship between these two opposing beings who have nevertheless grown close and yet find themselves at odds. The notion of the two “running away together” has a certain potency given some subtext here (and Sheen sells it accordingly), but the way that their personal friendship and professional opposition collide here gives “Hard Times” both a dramatic and comic force that hasn’t been nearly as present in the prior episodes.

Overall this is the pick of the litter so far, and gives me hope for what the show can do going forward, particularly if it builds on the neat Aziraphale and Crowley work it did here.

[7.6/10] Well, I guess I was wrong about last week’s episode replacing the improv-based interdimensional cable eps we’ve gotten previously. But I enjoy this entree full of bite-sized adventures for our heroes. It’s a throwback to Harmon’s “clip show but with new clips” bit from Community and fun to see the mini-stories thrown out rapid fire.

I particularly liked the opening pair of stories. Morty mistaking his new guidance counselor for a scary moon man is the sort of Bailey School Kids schtick with a Rick and Morty twist that really tickled my fancy. By the same token, turning the usual “humans trapped in an alien zoo” routine into a Contact-based hoodwinking is entertaining.

But I also really enjoyed the fact that Rick didn’t just zap away the memories of things that were too heavy for Morty to take; he zapped away his own minor mistakes, like the phrase “taken for granite,” not to mention things that implicate his family members, like Beth choosing Summer over Morty in her alien Sophie’s Choice scenario.

While most of the stories were amusing in that black comic way the show’s mastered, it feels like they’re all another brick in the wall of Morty getting tired of Rick’s bullshit, and the rest of the family’s bullshit too. The twist that both Rick and Morty lose their memories and have to use the vials to figure out who they are revitalizes the premise a bit, but also leads to the bleak realization that after seeing all that stuff, the pair want to have a suicide pact.

It’s played mainly for laughs, with Summer barging in on them and refueling their memories in a desultory fashion like she’s had to do this dozens of times, but like most episodes of the show, it finds the humor in something that, at its core, is pretty damn dark. (And then “no wonder you guys fight all the time and are always behind schedule” sounds like a not so veiled bit of self-commentary about Harmon and Roiland, which is a little discouraging.)

Overall, it’s a fun, rapid-fire premise for an episode that allows the show to deliver its humor and demented scenarios in quick hit format, but which still uses the form to offer a commentary on its two core characters, what they’ve seen, and the frustrations and vanity and ego that drives them to want to end it all. The fact that the show can wring comedy from that is just another pelt on the wall of its achievements.

I'm glad that this was not a case of an intriguing and genuinely good pilot episode, followed by a bland rest of a season, like it tends to happen a wee bit too much in these days of the abundance of TV series. The fun and quality that was originally presented to us was steadily kept throughout the whole season, and it ended in a very satisfying and comfy way.

After these six episodes, I got vibes of Pushing Daisies (because of what I mentioned in the pilot episode), Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (for its overall quirkiness), Supernatural (a demon named Crowley and the whole bromance thing), and Stranger Things (kids on bikes trying to save the world — and, yes, I know Stranger Things was hardly an original snow). But, in the end, Good Omens was its own thing, and quite some of the most refreshing TV time I've had in a while. And it's impossible not to love Michael Sheen's and David Tennant's ineffable chemistry on screen.

A special mention to the little girl of the gang... Shows these days tend to shove SJW characters down our throats (the "politically correct" is becoming such a nuisance), but the way they handled her character turned out to be both adorable and hilarious! Characters like her often annoy the hell out of me, but she actually provided some genuine comic relief while trying to sound serious. Unintentionally or not, I say well done, show runners!

Also, did Agnes Nutter foresaw season two?

When I wrote about RICO, I talked about how much of what makes this show great is its commitment to a "show, don't tell" ethos in its storytelling. The show generally takes care not to lay its points on too thick, or be too obvious with its points and themes, preferring to let them emerge from its characters' interactions and the performances of its superb cast.

That's why I felt let down by "Marco". It's not a bad episode--it's hard to imagine any show in the Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul pantheon sinking that low--but it's not nearly so subtle or deft in how it communicates Jimmy's internal struggle after the revelation that the brother he loved, and sacrificed for, and emulated, doesn't respect him and actually resents his attempts at self-improvement.

At the end of the episode, when Jimmy rolls up to Mike's tollbooth, asks him why they didn't take the money stolen by the Kettlemans for themselves, you get hints at what Mike started in "Pimento", both his falling in as a regular enforcer for the bumbling pill-dealer, but also his code--that he may be a criminal, but he's also a good guy, who's just out to do the job he's hired to do. And yet when Jimmy declares that he's never going to worry about doing the right thing again, it's so on the nose that the moment meant to cap off the entire season feels like it warrants a response of "duh." Let us see what your characters are feeling about their circumstances through how they behave, or even through dialogue; but don't just have them announce the shift you've already spent the entire episode setting up.

It doesn't give me great faith in Peter Gould, who both wrote and directed the episode and, with his Executive Producer credit, would appear to be the main creative force in the show beyond Vince Gilligan. Too many scenes in the episode that are supposed to put a bow on the events we've witnessed for nine episodes feel clumsy, awkward, without any of the flair, in either dialogue or direction, that the franchise is known for.

It comes through in the Bingo scene, where Jimmy's breakdown at a Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead level of recurring Bs sets him off into a semi-stream of consciousness rant about the foolish act that set him on this whole path. It's a strange, disjointed sequence that tries to lean into Bob Odenkirk's great skill as an actor, but makes so much explicit that has otherwise been subtle but palpable subtext that it just seems like an odd outburst that's tonally inconsistent with the rest of the show rather than the moment of great emotional weight and character development it's meant to play as.

The same goes for the montage of Jimmy and his old pal Marco getting back into the grifting game. The flying signs and reds and blues have the characteristics of an old cop show (it's the same kind of montage The Simpsons has parodied time and time again), and it's kind of fun in the attempt at stylized filmmaking Better Call Saul and its forebear regularly traffic in, but the sequence itself still comes off oddly flat, and the recurring lines about telling secrets and swirling images descend into the cheese rather than transcend it.

To the point, the entire storyline feels kind of rote. The idea of Jimmy learning his brother is a false idol, that the backstop that kept him from sliding back into a life of flim-flamming rubes at the local bar, that motivated him to achieve all he has since Chuck helped him out of that jam in Chicago, was predicated on a falsehood, is a good one. But the consequences feel too easy, the following events and conflicts too convenient, even cliche.

Jimmy attempting to restart his old life and finding that regardless of his brother, he feels a pull to be good, to help his clients and the people he's made commitments to, is hokey enough on its own, but kind of works. It's believable enough that in the throes of lamenting what he gave up at the behest of an implacable sibling would send him back into that familiar cesspool to blow off the steam he'd been holding in for so long, and yet eventually find that once that's out of the system, his old life doesn't have the same allure it once did. Sure, that's a pretty conventional story in a show that's made its bones from being more than conventional, but it's enough, even if it's not superb.

Then, of course, Marco wants to pull off one last con. And, of course, his trademark Hollywood cough early in the episode, pays off in a by-the-book Hollywood Death to Teach the Protagonist a Lesson™, that this is the most exciting thing Marco's life and it's a sad and pathetic thing to hang your hat on as you're dying. It's set up well enough with the audience having seen Jimmy and Marco pull off the same con episodes earlier, but again, it feels like laying the stakes of Jimmy's internal conflict on too thick. We already know he's struggling with whether to, as Mike puts it in "Pimento", be a good guy or a bad guy. We already know that his moral compass it out of whack after what happened with Chuck. And thanks to his scene in Marco's basement, we already know he's feeling the pull of the changed man he's become.

Perhaps this is all supposed to build to the subversion at the end of the episode. After all of these fairly weak and typical lessons and reminders about living right, Jimmy's still so miffed at what he gave up for his brother, or so bound to what may be his true nature, that he can't bother to follow up on Kim and Hamlin's help and make good on going straight. There's something to that, but the hamfisted way in which the episode hammers that point home in Jimmy's exchange with Mike sucks all the power from the twist.

When Better Call Saul began, there was no way to know if it would have a Season 2. Maybe the rushed nature, the flimsy finality of that this episode tries to impart is a symptom of that. If there were never another episode of Better Call Saul after this, there's more than enough for the audience to fill in the gaps and understand the trajectory for Jimmy and Mike between here and Breaking Bad, and anything more ambiguous might fail in that regard. As Season 1 of the show draws to a close, there's a clear explanation for how small-time lawyer Jimmy McGill could turn from the scrappy-if-underhanded guy we meet in episode 1 to talented huckster Saul Goodman, and how Philadelphia policeman Mike Ehrmentraut finds himself as the go-to-guy in the company of criminals. But something about that tidiness, about that blatant declaration to that effect, feels too simple in a show that thrives on complexity, and it sends a tremendous season of television out on a disappointing note.

SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL
-33-

"Can I make the call now?"
Holy shit! This show went dark.
What a way to start this episode.
Always appreaciate those Scenes in which we actall see how they do their stuff, in this case forge a gunfight.
So beatifull made…
Nacho is in a lot of Trouble and who is the source of it?

"No more than a week."
Gustavo Fring, again. He creates chaos so he can climb the ladder to the top.
Genius. Who is his tool? The Cousins. Again.
Or should I say for the first time?
His talk with Juan Bolsa is another example how good Gus is.
Always just a little push in the right direction.
He can built an empire. He is made for that.
The Little smile of Gus...
Again: He is not the Gus we know from "Breaking Bad" yet.
He wouldn't have smiled there, not one bit.

As he walked into the School, I got goosebumps, then I saw "Chemistry" and I thought:
Is he in Walts School? But it was even better!
As soon as I heard someone sing...
Gale is back! (Run Gale! Run!)
His love to chemistry is one of a kind.
I have to say, I believe him when he says he can make better than 67%!

And now to Jimmy.
Eight minutes? More like Eighty minutes^^
Clever way to get this guy out of his office.
But who did he got for the Job?
Ira from Vamonos Pest! Nice cameo.

For the letter from Chuck I only have one Thing to say:
The fact that Kim has Tears in her eyes and is so moved by his words and Jimmy had no emotions whatsoever, says it all.
Or does it?
The last conversation with Chuck was so cruel and These words sound off.
Did Chuck wrote the letter only to relieve his soul?
Guess Jimmy made up his mind. The rest is open to Interpretation.

Oh, wow, this was, surprisingly, a lot of fun! I don't know the books and, for me, American Gods was one of the biggest TV disappointments of the last few years. So, I decided to watch this without getting my hopes up (although Terry Pratchett's name did give me some hope)... And I ended up truly enjoying the amusing, light-hearted tone of the whole episode, while juggling gloomy things like Satan and Armageddon at the same time. Because of this (and the narration and colourful scenery), it even reminded me of Pushing Daisies, at times, so I'm surprised Bryan Fuller has nothing to do with this.

Both main actors excel in their roles (me being a fan of Mr. Blum on The Good Fight and, of course, Dr. Who and Killgrave), which only seems to make this show even more appealing, when there's already a solid chemistry between such a quirky duo at the helm of a show.

I think this is a mini-series (there's only one book, right?), so it saddens me that we probably won't be getting any more than these 6 episodes... But I'm sure they'll be some of the best 6 episodes I'll have the pleasure to watch for a while. And this is definitely the episode with the cutest lullaby and hellhound on TV, ever (probably)!

Now off to binge watch the rest of them!

And now we know why Otis is so uncomfortable with his own sexuality... But I'm guessing he'll come to terms with it by the end of the season. But only slightly, because we want more seasons of this precious little gem of a show.

I'm not sure what will happen to Eric. At first, I thought he had gone into the classic (and cliché) self-destruction downward spiral, but I smelled a hint of premature redemption during his conversation with pretty face Indian boy. I just hope they won't ruin the character with all that angst. I mean, it's understandable that he's feeling that way, that's also him growing up, as a person, but I don't want to see him deviate too much from his joyful self. Also, I hope Otis will eventually get to him. I find their friendship more heartwarming and real than that of those kids from Stranger Things.

Of course, Otis' scene with whatshername was as awkward and uncomfortable as it was funny. Not because of Otis, he clearly has a trauma about sex, but the girl was a hoot!

Oh! Gillian "Clearly Horny as Fuck" Anderson finally got some! Hooray! Or... Did Otis' panic attack cockblocked her? If so, then it's the second time Otis cockblocks her mom, damn!

And now, for the cherry on top that was that very last scene: so, Maeve does have a tiny thing for Otis, huh? ;) That scene made me go all "aaaaww" and giggle like a little girl.

I was reading through the comments and was surprised that some people think Otis is trash this season... Literally the party scene was the only one where he did wrong so far. He's been dealing with his mom and Jakob's relationship (+ Jakob's personality), Ola, Maeve, his own and other people's sex-related problems for a long time - who wouldn't explode at some point?
Just like how Jackson had enough of one of his mother's dictatorship and almost broke down (well, technically with the self-harm he already did) and how Eric stood up face-to-face to Adam and told him his honest thoughts (yaaas, so proud! I was actually afraid that he would change his mind and back down, but I'm so glad that there's a character in existence who doesn't choose the "bad guy" bully at the end!). These characters had enough too, yet I don't see anyone bashing them. And Otis has/had a lot more on his plate than these two.

I'm conflicted about Maeve now. Last time I wrote that they're basically soulmates with Otis, and I really thought that... but then Isaac came, and now I'm kinda rooting for him? But I'm also rooting for Maeve just concentrating on herself? And also rooting for Otis to apologize and speak to Maeve about his feelings while he's sober?
Since Maeve and Otis are 2 of the 3 main characters, and almost the whole SE1 was about them starting to like each other, I guess they'll end up together, but it wouldn't be a first of this show to give things a twist and pair Maeve up with Isaac.

Jackson and Viv are getting closer, yaay! I mean, that was a strong gut feeling right from their first meeting, but it's still nice to see Viv starting to care more about Jackson (and vice versa), little by little.

[9.0/10] I don’t know how Rick and Morty keeps doing it, but somehow the show continually finds new ways to combine insane sci-fi weirdness with deep and meaningful character introspection, and I can’t get enough of it.

At the same time the show crafts and adventure where Rick and Jerry turn a visit to a resort and theme park into a snowballing bout of murder attempts and changing alliances, the show also explores both the strain Rick placed on Beth and Jerry’s marriage, and Jerry’s own unassumingly weasely ethos.

The former comes in the form of an inventive resort setting with an “immortality field.” Maybe I’m just not deep enough into sci-fi, but I love the concept as a setting that not only makes for a natural place Rick would take Jerry (at Morty’s behest, naturally) but creates an interesting conundrum for the plotters trying to take out Rick. (Plus it creates one dark as hell joke from two little kids playing together.) The show certainly has its fun with the concepts, and setting a murder attempt there on a roller coaster that dips just outside the field is superb.

The great escape part is fun too. Everything from another alien forest full of crazy creatures, to a cruise line that makes dangerous people dumber rather than preventing them from boarding is inventive as all get out. Plus, the “time-preserver” sequence is the sort of Lynchian madness we haven’t seen much of from the show, but which featured some insanely creative sequences as well.

And in the midst of all this, there’s a great exploration both of who Jerry is, how Rick sees him, and what Rick’s done to his life. The high point of that is Rick’s speech to Jerry that his son-in-law plays it off like he’s prey but that he’s really a predator, attaching himself to people and bringing him down. It makes sense that Rick would see him that way, and it’s revealing of Rick that as much as he pretends his reasons for busting on Jerry are because he gets in the way, there’s a part of him that does it to defend his daughter, whose life he thinks Jerry ruined. Rick caring about things always manifests in weird ways, but that what makes him interesting as a character.

Hell, I like Jerry, and there’s something about a guy whose only crime is being “unremarkable” being treated so shabbily by pretty much everyone that feels wrong. But he’s also not a great guy himself -- a small, petty man as Principal Skinner might say. Still, his indecision about whether to let Rick die, coupled with his feelings about Rick squeezing him out and hurting his marriage, make for very rich, complex material in a pairing we don’t get all that often.

The B-story is not nearly as deep, but pretty darn great too. It has its own spate of weirdness, with Summer trying to make her breasts larger with one of Rick’s transforming rays and ending up gigantic and, thanks to Beth’s assistance, also inside out. That, coupled with the “tech support” guys being three little dudes who live in the machine and trick her into letting them out, makes the science fiction-y and comedy sides of the story spectacular. (The same goes for Beth’s bizarre “hoof collage”)

But there’s also some good character stuff there too. I’m kind of loving the direction the show’s taking Morty this season. He’s showing his own dark side (see how he treats Ethan), and he’s become the character on the show with the most perspective, being able to identify how his mom is acting like her father in her refusal to ask for help and arrogance in her belief that she can just solve the problem without engaging emotionally. Beth turning herself gigantic and inside out to comfort Summer about her body issues is a bizarre but hilarious way to resolve the story to boot.

Overall, another stellar outing from Rick and Morty that makes me lament we only get five more weeks (maybe?) of this awesome show.

[8.5/10] You could be forgiven for asking, “Hey, isn’t there some guy named Saul in this show?” for most of the runtime of “Sabrosito.” It’s an episode that turns over most of the proceedings to the happenings in the orbit of Gustavo Fring, with enough of a narrative side dish for Mike and Jimmy to remind you that they are main characters in the series.

But I’m not complaining. Giancarlo Esposito has a presence that can hold your attention like few other actors can. The details we see here -- the cold war brewing at Don Eladio’s compound, the affronts between Gus and Hector, the declaration of resolve from Fring himself, add so much shading to what we already know about the grudges and rivalries within the cartel from Breaking Bad. In a way the rest of Better Call Saul hasn’t really, “Sabrosito” serves as a direct prequel to the events that Walter White would eventually get tangled up in, and by using Gus as a conduit for that, the show practically guarantees a compelling episode.

And, as usual, there is some connective tissue between the seemingly disparate, constituent parts of the episode. Gus’s story is ultimately about standing up to bullies, standing up to intimidation, standing up to the people who believe that you deserve less. It’s about pushing back against those who do not respect you, who believe that your new ways don’t measure up to their old ones, and who believe you need to kowtow to their wishes.

But so is Jimmy’s. Sure, an ornery older brother trying to drum you out of the legal profession is not exactly the same thing as a rival drug dealer using his standing in the cartel to lean on you, but “Sabrosito” draws a line between Chuck and Hector. Both of them are old timers, long entrenched in the systems in which they operate, ready to use their connections, their standing, the power and network they have amassed in their time, to stamp out the people who challenge their hegemony.

For Hector, that means preventing the upstart Gus from infringing on his territory. The opening of the episode in Don Eladio’s pool not only puts Breaking Bad fans on alert for little pink bears, but it calls to mind both Gus’s partner being killed at the edge of that pool, and Don Eladio himself meeting his end there. It’s an interesting shot that immediately makes the setting of the scene laden with meaning before a single word is spoken.

Don Eladio, gregarious shit-stirrer that he is, makes Hector feel the lesser man next to the bigger stack of crisp, clean bills Gus sends Don Eladio’s way, and the Los Pollos Hermanos shirt Don Eladio puts on only adds insult to injury. So Hector goes to throw his weight around with Gus, in the best way he knows how - by messing with him at his restaurant.

It’s unexpectedly tense for a scene set at a fast food chicken restaurant. Still, Hector knows the best way to violate the sanctity of Gus’s domain, to twist Gus where it will bother him the most. He wanders around the meticulously kept restaurant violating every norm of cleanliness and decorum imaginable. He intimidates customers; he smokes; he wanders in the back and carves gunk off his shoe. The message is clear -- I am in charge here, and even if there’s a greater authority than myself to consider, you’ll accede to my wishes.
That’s the message Chuck sends as well. There is the same air of tension as the McGill brothers, and their legal representatives, file in to accept the A.D.A.’s deal. Chuck, true to form, leans on his brother about every niggling detail, from the wording in Jimmy’s confession to the cost of the destroyed cassette tape. And from the minute Ms. Hay converses with Chuck about his condition, it’s clear that this is far from a neutral proceeding, removing any doubt that she is, knowingly or not, taking Chuck’s side on this. The peak is when she requires Jimmy to not only sign his confession and make restitution, but to apologize to his brother.

This is where Gus and Jimmy stand in the same position. Both are clearly on edge, facing the men who want to squeeze them out. But each maintains their composure, not rising to the bait meant to throw them off balance, letting their tormentors believe that they have won this battle. Gus, stoic as he is, simply makes velvety threats and stands there dignified and unmoved. Jimmy, a little more heart on his sleeve, turns his supposed apology into a recrimination, albeit one subtle enough to pass muster with the A.D.A.

But neither of them is beaten. Through Kim’s clever phonebooking and Jimmy’s use of Mike’s combined conman/handyman skills, the pair not only have a plan to thwart Chuck from getting Jimmy disbarred, but they have evidence and the benefit of Mike casing the joint to go on. Gus, for his part, stays resolute, but clearly is unspooling a big plan in his own mind. When he speaks to his frightened employees, he speaks off a refusal to bend, to allow the old guard to flex its muscles and have the newcomers cower in fear. He resolves to stand his ground, and the people who work for him applaud him for it.

And poor Mike may be a big part of that big plan. His is the most understated story in the episode, but it’s also, in its way, the most poignant. Mike is a taciturn individual by nature, which calls upon Jonathan Banks to fill in the blank spaces of dialogue with his world-weary expressions. With his granddaughter Kaylee nestled in his arm, there is a hint of wistfulness, of regret in his eyes, enough for his daughter-in-law to pick up on it. These are the loved ones for whom he committed those terrible deeds for, for whom he got other innocent people killed. Better Call Saul plays its cards close to the vest, but Banks’s performance gives the sense of the moral calculus of those acts weighing on Mike in that moment.

When sitting down with Jimmy at the diner, Mike remarks that it was nice to fix something for once. When we see him later in the episode, he’s reading Handyman Magazine. Mike is good at what he does -- the way he manages to nonchalantly shoo Chuck away with his power tools shows that -- but there’s also a sense that he’s weary of this. Keeping his daughter-in-law and granddaughter in that nice neighborhood, with the good schools and safe havens, costs real money, and Mike’s most marketable skill, the one that brings those brown paper bags full of dollar bills, isn’t a pleasant one. Maybe, Mike just wishes he could rest -- build things instead of tear them down.

One of the best qualities of Better Call Saul is the way it uses its status as a prequel as an advantage rather than a difficulty. The tension between Gus and Hector in “Sabrosito” is heightened because we know there is enough bad blood between the two of them in the future that Hector sacrifice his own life so long as he can take out Fring at the same time. Jimmy’s tet-a-tet with Chuck has added intrigue because it seems as though Chuck has his brother dead to rights, and yet we know that Jimmy will continue practicing law, by hook or by crook, leading the audience to wonder how he’ll wriggle out of this one.

But it also creates a sense of tragedy, of star-crossed destiny for characters like Mike. It isn’t a bully who compels him, and it’s hard to imagine someone being able to intimidate him into doing anything. And yet, he is no less pulled by forces beyond his control -- the need to care for his family, the need to make up for the death of his son that he feels responsible for -- that we know will keep from the life of a contented handyman.

The encounter between Mike and Gus at the end of the episode, where Mike agrees, in his typically cagey way, to work for Gus, is in part a momentous one, because it serves as a milestone for a partnership that will pay dividends for each of them. At the same time, it’s a recommitment to a line of work that will ultimately grind away at Mike, that will lead to his death, that will jeopardize those stacks of dollar bills he has stashed away for his granddaughter.

It’s hard to say it will lead him to ruin. Mike is not a young man and he enjoys close to a decade of being able to care for his family. But for at least a moment in “Sabrosito”, it seems that at a time when Gus and Jimmy are desperate and resolute to stay in the game, Mike wants out. And we know, however much he may want that, the ability to while away his time fixing doors instead of dusting cartel goons, he’s fated to keep at this until, one day, it kills him.

[8.8/10] One of the great things about The Sopranos was the way it would show a character meeting someone or having a moment that changed their emotional state, planted some idea or bit of perspective in their head, that they would then carry throughout the rest of the episode, often taking it out on people entirely divorced from that inciting incident. It was part of the show’s deft emotional calculus, where it could capture the way thoughts and feelings flit around in the background, popping up in surprising ways or at unexpected times.

As much as the aptly titled “Expenses” is devoted to the financial corner Jimmy finds himself in, it’s also devoted to that same idea, the notion that one interaction, one exchange with another person can reframe the way you feel about something or someone, in a way that lingers and cannot be easily erased.

It starts with another of Better Call Saul’s cold opens, that again succeeds in displaying visual virtuosity -- in the motley crew of individual framed against a blank wall and the cars and trucks rushing overhead -- but in the way it serves the message being communicated -- that here, Jimmy is just another guy and he’s hindered from doing what he does best by all this noise.

That’s the overarching theme to Jimmy’s portion of the episode. The now Saul Goodman is used to being able to use his powers of persuasion, his winning attitude and ability to feel out any situation to bend things to his advantage. For all Jimmy’s faults, there’s always been a cleverness to it, and a way with people, that have kept him from the harshest of consequences in any jam he’s in.

But now he finds himself embroiled in circumstances where all his winning ways can’t extricate him from the financial difficulties he finds himself in. It begins with the Community Service Supervisor docking him all but a half hour of the four hours he worked picking up garbage because he was using his phone to answer calls for Saul Goodman productions. He tries to negotiate, to rally his fellow garbage-pickers to his side, to appeal the the man’s sympathies, but all he gets in return is “we could make it zero.”

That’s the response Jimmy gets throughout the episode, as the thought of his remonstrations falling on deaf ears continues to wear on him. At a time when his dire monetary straights require the best of his salesmanship abilities, the desperation and unavoidable strictures of him circumstances seem to hobble him. His attempts to upsell his commercial-shooting services on the phone lead to hang up. His effort to try to upgrade a paying customer to a bigger package gets him nowhere. And in his desperation, he actually allows a couple of savvy business owners (played by the Sklar Brothers of the underrated show Cheap Seats) to hold him over a barrel and get him to work for free.

Jimmy is used to having power, It may not be the sort of positions of privilege that the Chucks and Howards of the world enjoy, but he’s accustomed to being able to use his silver tongue to give him an advantage in any random situation in which he needs it. But from that first moment with the Community Service Supervisor, he feels stymied, closed in, powerless. It’s natural, then, that he takes that out on others where he can, repeating those words, “we could make it zero” to a Chinese food delivery boy who looks askance on him for a low tip. Each indignity seems to snowball from that first one, until Jimmy is at his wits end and blowing off his steam at delivery boys and random marks in bars for whom his scorn is misdirected, intended for causes of his frustrations that are out of his reach.

Mike finds himself with solace, rather than frustration, when he meets Anita, a woman who attends church with Stacey. When Anita initially offers to help Mike build the playground he promised to assist with in the last episode, he brushes her off, with hints that it’s due to a certain strain of sexism. But Anita won’t take no for an answer, something Mike clearly admires, as he acquiesces and she proves herself a capable aide in the effort.

Mike’s respect and interest in her only grows when he learns at their support group that she lost her husband, who was also a man in uniform (albeit a navy man, rather than a cop). The show seems to be setting up Anita as a love interest, which is an interesting, though mildly concern direction to go with the character. But what’s particularly notable is how his interactions with Anita -- where she tells him that her husband was lost while hiking with the body never being recovered -- effect a change of heart in him.

When Nacho leans on Daniel, of “Squat Cobbler” fame, to get him some heart pills that he can use to poison Hector, Daniel seeks out Mike’s protection once more, explaining the scheme (or at least as much of it as he knows). Mike initially wants no part of it, brushing Daniel off and washing his hands of it.

But something about his conversation with Anita changes his mind. Maybe it’s the idea that her husband, somebody who left and never came back, reminds Mike of the innocent person whose death he indirectly caused when he knocked over one of Hector’s trucks. There’s hints that Mike has been trying to buy his soul back, from what happened with Matty and with the cartel, when he donates all the materials for the church playground. His agreement to be Daniel’s muscle seems unlikely to be out of a particular care for that dolt’s well-being, but Nacho may be a different story.

Nacho isn’t exactly pure of heart, but Mike does take a certain paternal tone with him -- here and in episodes past. It was Nacho’s presence that gave him pause in “Klick”, and Mike’s smart enough to read into what Daniel’s telling him, figure out what Nacho’s planning, and feel the need to warn him to cover his tracks and protect himself. “Expenses” stays a bit cagey about what exactly’s pulling Mike here, but it’s clear that the small emotional reminder from Anita is enough to move him to do something different.

Kim might be moved to do something different as well, though in a far less pleasant manner. When Paige from Mesa Verde compliments Kim on how she and Jimmy won at Jimmy’s disciplinary hearing, deriding Chuck all the while, the persistent guilt bubbling within Kim rises to the surface. In going over some numbers with Paige later, Kim is unexpectedly short with Paige, immediately realizing the slip and apologizing. Without ever saying as much, Kim admits that she’s bothered by being complimented on what happened with Chuck, telling Paige that as far as she’s concerned, all she and Jimmy did was tear down a sick man. It’s a small part of a larger conversation, but it brings out something that’s been bothering Kim, that manifests itself in a sideways fashion.

Still, once that thought has reared its ugly head, it’s hard to tamp it back down. When Jimmy and Kim are together at a bar, sizing up potential marks as they did in “Switch” as Jimmy is trying to get his mojo back, Kim starts to seem just the slightest bit aghast. Jimmy speaks with a malevolence about taking down certain marks, going to elaborate extremes (frankly sounding like Chuck) in his imagined schemes against certain unkind gentleman in the establishment.

There was a mutual allure between Jimmy and Kim when they first tried to pull this sort of con off in “Switch.” Kim seemed impressed by Jimmy’s ability to persuade and flim-flam and Jimmy was enthralled by a partner who could also be an effective partner in crime. But that one moment with Paige, the glee at a mentally ill man’s downfall, fostered a nagging impulse within her, one that seems to make her question whether the man she’s thrown in her lot with is a decent person in a bad situation or whether he is the scorpion atop the frog.

Jimmy seems to embrace the latter label in the episode’s closing scene. His efforts to get a refund on the malpractice insurance he’ll no longer need are the last bit of insult to injury. Not only can he not received a refund, he’s told, but when he returns to practice, his rates will go up 150%. The one minor life raft in the midst of his stormy financial sea turns out to be the promise of an anchor.

It’s then that Jimmy starts crying, and just as I did for his brother in “Sunk Costs,” I almost believed him. “Expenses” does a superb job at showing how far Jimmy is being stretched, how much he’s willing to break his own rules and grasp at whatever straws he can to get the money he needs to keep going. This could be the final one, the thing that breaks the emotional defenses of the normally unshakeable Jimmy McGill.

In truth, it could still be that. Jimmy is not above mixing truth with fiction to serve his ends. But whether they’re real or fake, he uses those tears to subtly cue the malpractice insurance adjuster, who also insures Chuck, to the disciplinary hearing transcripts that expose his brother as a sick man. It’s a way that, even in what seems like his lowest point, Jimmy can regain some joy, some pleasure, in sticking it to his brother once again. While Kim is coping with guilt over what she rationalized as a necessary action, Jimmy is twisting the knife.

And why wouldn’t he? From the start of “Expenses,” Jimmy finds himself stymied and rebuked in everything he tries to do, whether it’s get full credit for his community service or get a refund on his insurance premiums. He sees Chuck as the person who put him in this situation, and the one thing he can still do, even if he’s caged and neutered in every other respect, is stick it to his brother. Jimmy is still powerless for much of the episode, unable to deploy his persuasion in the way he’s used to for his own personal gain, but he can still use it for Chuck’s personal loss, and for now, that’s enough, something the devilish smile on his face as he leaves the office reveals.

Often times it’s the little moments that move us, that create some niggling thought in our brains that festers or flourishes into something more. For Mike, it’s a reminder and a call to action. For Kim, it’s a warning, a lingering concern about the individual she’s tied her life to. And for Jimmy, it’s a nagging impulse, a prickling thought, that he can only stamp out by running up the score on his brother, to prove to himself that he still can.

[8.6/10] The opening of “Slip” is a little more direct than episodes of Better Call Saul tend to be, as it fills in some gaps Jimmy’s backstory and perspective. When pressed by Marco about Jimmy’s parents’ shop, about how they worked hard and everyone liked them, Jimmy admits it’s true, but questions the value of it. He declares that it got them nowhere, and characterizes his own dad as a sucker.

Jimmy’s philosophy becomes a little clearer, snapping into place with the flashback to his youth. His dad was someone who refused to bend the rules, who wouldn’t take even so much as a valuable coin for himself, who wouldn’t sell cigarettes to the kids from the local religious school to make ends meet, and in Jimmy’s eyes, that got him nothing. It’s a little too tidy and pat, but Jimmy sums it up nicely -- Papa McGill wasn’t willing to “do what he had to do,” and Jimmy definitely is.

That’s the thrust of “Slip,” which is as much an ensemble piece as any episode of Better Call Saul so far. Jimmy, Mike, Chuck, Kim, and Nacho are willing to go the extra mile, to do the difficult thing, not because they want to, but because they believe it needs to be done. It’s what unites those disparate individuals and their different challenges here. Each of them strains a little more, goes a little farther, in the name of biting the bullet and doing what needs doing.

For Jimmy, that means going back to his old ways. What’s interesting is that Jimmy tries to be good here. He tries to build on the success of his first ad with the owners of the music shop, and all they do is try to squeeze him. Granted, it’s Jimmy, so he’s probably inflating costs a bit, but still, the episode sets them up as jerks, and Jimmy as at the end of the rope. So hey lays out a drumstick, asks them one more time if they’re committed to not paying him what they originally agreed to, and then he intentionally takes a painful looking spill in their store to get leverage. Look out, Slippin’ Jimmy is back.

He also returns to his huckstering to get back at this community service supervisor and make a little scratch in the process. His big show of a potential lawsuit and deal with a fellow worker grow a little farfetched in terms of persuading the grumpy supervisor who eventually gives in, but the purpose of these scenes is clear. Jimmy tried doing things his parents’ way, the good way, and the only thing it got him was an empty bank account. Now, he’s back to taking the (literally) painful, less-than-savory steps that ensure he has enough money to hold up his end of the bargain with Kim.

But Kim’s willing to go the extra mile too. When Jimmy offers her the money, she obliquely hints at the idea that he might need time to regroup, that she’s willing to carry the load for the two of them for a little while. It’s not entirely clear whether she’s worried he’ll return to conning people full time and wants to alleviate the financial incentives to do so, or she’s simply concerned that whatever his assurances, unreliable Jimmy may not be able to come up with his end on a monthly basis without his legal practice. Either way, she takes on a new client, one where she already seems pretty slammed, to make sure that they’ll be able to make ends meet, with or without Jimmy’s contributions.
The Mesa Verde head honcho refers that client to her at a lunch meeting, where she just so happens to run into Howard. Howard, ever the politician, is plastically cordial, but Kim, unlike her beau, still has pangs of guilt and offers him a refund on the law school tuition he put up for her. Howard, letting the scales fall for the first time in a while, reveals that he too is working overtime, having to reassure scores of clients after the incident with Chuck gets out. Kim’s willing to take the (figuratively) painful step of handing over $14,000 dollars to assuage her conscience, and Howard is out there hustling to preserve his firm’s good name after his partner’s public breakdown.

But some good seems to have come out of it. Chuck is back with his doctor and (self-)reportedly making great progress. He may be overestimating himself a little bit, but he’s pushing through his exposure therapy and accepting that his illness is a mental not physical one. When Dr. Cruz warns him about taking it easy and not setting his expectations too high, he remains optimistic, anxious to get better.

In a tremendous sequence, without a word of exposition, “Slip” suggests that Chuck might overexert himself in this effort. He’s using the coping techniques the doctor suggested for him when standing in front of the blaring fluorescent lights of the grocery story. He lists the colors and objects he sees, taking his focus away from the pain. Director Adam Bernstein uses the tools in his toolbox to underscore the severity of what walking through the freezer case does to Chuck, the zooms, the noise, the vertigo of it all. It seems like Chuck has pushed himself too far, that he’s about to suffer another attack

But when we see Chuck later, he has the groceries and is no worse for wear. These things are difficult for him, painful for him, but he is ready and willing to push, to take that damn step, in the same of what he wants to achieve.

The same is true of Mike, who is clearly still haunted by Anita’s story from the prior episode of her husband dying in the woods without anyone ever finding the body. He digs and digs in the New Mexico desert, metal-detector in hand, until he finds where the unfortunate Good Samaritan was buried by the cartel. He calls it in anonymously, presumably in the hopes of ensuring that another family won’t have to go through the uncertainty that Anita did.

But he’s worried about leaving his own family in a state of uncertainty too. He still has his cash from his various extra-curricular activities, but he’s worried about how he could get it to his family should something happen to him. So he goes to Gus Fring, in the hopes Gus can help him launder it. It’s a scene that shows the two men’s growing mutual respect. The meaningful handshake that closes the episode (along with Gus turning down Mike’s offer of 20% to launder it) signifies the ways that their values are the same. They are both smart, decent men who get mixed up in indecent things, and they’re willing to do what it takes to make that work.

That just leaves Nacho, who has what is possibly the most difficult task of all. What I love about this series of scenes is the way they show how meticulous, how careful, how deliberate Nacho is about all of his. There is nobility in Nacho wanting to protect his father from Hector, but he is not in any way reckless about it.

Instead, he does the legwork, he takes the extra steps that will make his operation successful. He is delicate and careful as he grinds the poison into dust and fills the lookalike pills under a magnifying glass. He practices, over and over again, the act of palming the pill bottle and depositing it into a coat pocket, so that when the moment comes, it will be second nature. And he even goes so far as to climb onto the top of the restaurant that serves as Hector’s headquarters the night before, messing up the air conditioner so that Hector will have a reason to take off his jacket.

The subsequent scene where he actually makes the switch is masterful. “Slip” holds the tension of each step in the process: from the would-be fake bill, to the probing of the wrong pocket, to the pill switcheroo, to that grand moment of truth where Nacho has to make the move he rehearsed so many times and land the pill bottle into Hector’s jacket without him realizing. It’s a great outing for Michael Mando, who conveys the way that Nacho is trying to exhibit a practiced, casual calm, but inside is anxious beyond words. His deep exhale and clenched fingers in the back after it’s all done says everything.

Each of the tasks taken up by the main characters in this episode -- planting poison pills, finding a dead body, braving the height of your illness, taking on extra work, and even breaking your own back -- require something extra, more sacrifice, more pain, more difficulty. But when something important is at stake -- your livelihood, your well-being, or your family -- the major figures of Better Call Saul are the type of people who face that head on and take whatever measures the situation requires, even if that means drastically different things for each of them. Those steps are painful, tense, and even dangerous, but for better or ill, Jimmy McGill and the people in his orbit, are the people who do what they need to do.

• Someone please help Cheryl. She's been through hell and back (her brother's and father's death, her weird mother, her attempted suicide, the gay conversion), so can someone please get her into therapy or something? I love her overly special and dramatic moments, but at this point it seems unrealistic for her to just go back to normal over night everytime.
• Sometimes Riverdale is so unintentionally funny, like Jughead and his friends storming into Betty's house with their pocket knives while they looked like they're straight from West Side Story (honestly expected some serious finger snapping) or Archie and his freaking highschool friends threatening mafia bosses and blowing up their cars while they're wearing ski masks and giving themselves another circle name (side note - Hiram must be the shittiest mafia boss ever because his only ally is a highschool boy) or the nuns just walking behind Cheryl and their friends like some bad horror movie villains instead of actually running and trying to catch them.
• The things I really liked about this episode was that Chic is finally kicked out of the house (though I still have no idea what's going on with him), Alice embracing her inner Serpent, Josie finding out about the drawings (still hope we'll learn more about whatever actually happened) and of course Kevin's face in the background of the last scene.