Showing posts with label breaking bad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breaking bad. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Favorites of 2015

Clockwise from top right: Mad Max: Fury Road, South Park, Pericles,
Mr. Burns, Gotham, and Bluebeard's Castle


Not a comprehensive best-of list; just my personal favorites from all sorts of media in 2015.

Books

The sun comes out after a good book.

Billie by Anna Gavalda: It rained all the first day of a family vacation, but I didn't mind, because I'd brought this book. This little gem of a novel (translated from the French) chronicles the relationship between two childhood friends determined to break away from their white-trashy town and make it in Paris. The two stick together through classroom awkwardness, homophobic violence, and a potentially fatal hiking accident - the immediate aftermath of which finds Billie telling their story to a star. Gavalda's skill shines in her use of Billie, an inarticulate girl who's bold but lacking in confidence, as narrator. Like Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami last year, this was just the right book at the right time for me.

Horse Medicine by Doug Anderson: I'm a sucker for dead horse poems. Although that's what first drew me to this book, the collection encompasses Anderson's reflections on not just horses, but religion, war, and aging. My favorite lines come from "What the Angel Said": "Who are you to think/ you will not have to/ live history/ out all the way/ to the consequences/ and beyond?"

Paper-Doll Fetus by Cynthia Marie Hoffman: In this poetry collection, a rock falls in love with a goat placenta, and it makes sense. With fearlessness and compassion, Hoffman dives into the female reproductive system, exploring miscarriages, stillbirths, phantom pregnancies, and the traumas and joys of childbirth. There are poems told not only from the point of view of the aforementioned rock and the titular doomed fetus, but from a strap used to inhumanely restrain laboring women and a lamb who dies shortly after being born. Periods still suck, but I appreciate them a little bit more having read this book.

The Good, the Bad, and the Furry by Tom Cox: Yes, Cox writes cat books about a famous twitter handle, @MYSADCAT, but his books transcend cat books and twitter books. They're thoughtful and funny reflections of the English countryside, parents, nature, music, and yes, cats.


Favorite Old Books I Read or Re-read


King John's Prince Arthur and Hubert in Laslett John Pott's engraving.

Dangerous Liaisons/Les liaisons dangereuses by Choderlos de Laclos: I finally read this French epistolary novel, and despite this being a cliche...yes, something written in 1782 can still be scandalous in 2015. Bored aristocrats the Marquise de Merteuil (a wealthy widow) and her best friend and former lover the Vicomte de Valmont (a bachelor and libertine) manipulate others sexually for fun and revenge. But what starts as a quotidian (for them) ruining of others' lives slowly turns into a battle of wills. Of particular interest are Merteuil's ruminations on the strict gender roles of the time and how she's gotten around them.

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë: I do a lot of my reading on the bus, and re-reading for the first time since high school this epic about an extended family who needs to get the mix of incest just right in order to heal always made me sad to reach my stop. It's too bad E. Brontë gets accused of romanticizing bad male behavior, because that's not really what's happening. Heathcliff and Cathy are weirdos who need to do their Heathcliff and Cathy thing, not a template for all heterosexual relationships. After reading, I watched three different adaptations (what Wuthering Heights really needs is a mini series that shows all generations at the correct ages) and listened to Kate Bush's song about the novel about a million times.

 King John by Shakespeare: I read this lesser known drama as just another stop on my way to reading all of Shakespeare's plays, for better or worse...but I really liked it and don't see why it isn't performed more. It's basically a less powerful Richard III, but I can see how it would be entertaining on stage. It has a central character audiences are somewhat familiar with (John is the mama's boy lion in Disney's animated Robin Hood), a great comic relief character in Richard the Lionheart's bastard son, a crazy mom meltdown, and a kid talking his way out of a hot poker to the eyes. How is this not a hit?


Movies

Patricia Velasquez leads Liz in September's cast.

Mad Max: Fury Road: This thrilling action movie had style, substance, and heart.

Liz in September: This beautiful tearjerker from Venezuela is the country's first lesbian romance movie.

Tom at the Farm: This tense, arty Quebecois rural noir finally got a limited run in the US.

Cartel Land: The drug cartels of Mexico have been a subject of fascination and horror for years. While 2015 saw fictional characters in Sicario tackle the US's involvement in the violence, Matthew Heineman went on the ground in this documentary about local efforts to quell the reign of terror. The film is an absolute gut-punch, although not in the way you'd necessarily expect: one grassroots group of courageous locals starts out as the lovable underdogs peacefully standing up to the cartels; later, Heineman pans his camera around the now-powerful group's new headquarters as individuals they've detained wait to be tortured. It's a crushing statement on moral corruption and the complexity of fighting evil.

One disputed artistic decision Heineman made was to include scenes of a self-appointed anti-cartel group in the US - basically gun aficionados in camo parading consequence-free around the border. Some critics felt like Heineman was giving this group legitimacy and supporting their cause, but I read the inclusion as ironic. The American group's belief that they're brave soldiers fighting a battle is shown to be a delusion of grandeur when juxtaposed with the citizens of Mexico who are actually dealing with the deadly reality of the cartels.


Theater

Nadine Sierra and Brian Mulligan in Lucia di Lammermoor.

Mr. Burns: A Post-Electric Play - A.C.T.: Anne Washburn's Simpsons-inspired meditation on storytelling and human resolve is one of the most polarizing plays I've seen. Full write-up here.

Swimmer - San Francisco Ballet: Yuri Possokhov, SF Ballet's choreographer in residence, based this ballet on a John Cheever short story. The loose plot is that a philandering businessman swims through neighbors' pools, glimpsing others' lives. But when he returns to his own suburban home, he finds his nuclear family is gone. The piece is a celebration and examination of the American mid-century modern aesthetic, and is visually stunning. However, while the video projections sometimes added a lot, they weren't always necessary (example: in the final scene, it was clear from the dancer's pantomime that he was flailing in the water; the added video footage of a man flailing in water was superfluous).

Pericles - Oregon Shakespeare Festival: I'm so glad I got a second chance to see the play that made Pericles good!

Lucia di Lammermoor - San Francisco Opera: I was lucky to share in a friend's complimentary tickets to this opera with rising star Nadine Sierra (excellent as Musetta in last year's La Boheme at SF Opera). The set for Enrico's office was breathtaking and properly imposing, and the famous "mad scene" was especially visceral.

Other theater favorites this year: Dan Clegg unexpectly stole the show as Edmund in California Shakespeare Theatre's King Lear; Berkeley Rep scored one of the top Eponines, Samantha Barks, for Amelie; and I finally got to see The Book of Mormon!


TV

Mikhail Petrenko and Nadja Michael in Bluebeard's Castle

Great Performances at the Met: Bluebeard's Castle: I caught the second part of this PBS double feature by chance. I turned on the TV, intending to veg out to the hot twins show on HGTV or something else other than a two-person Hungarian opera, but the channel was set to PBS, and the very first frame arrested me. By the end of the day, I had watched several other versions of the opera on YouTube* and added the music to my iPod.

At its most literal, Bluebeard's Castle (by Béla Bartók and Béla Balázs) is about a woman gradually realizing, and finally admitting out loud, that her new husband is a serial killer. But it's also about what we keep hidden within ourselves and the competing desires to deny or investigate in the face of unpleasantness. Mikhail Petrenko's and Nadja Michael's performances; the Met's minimalist yet dramatic staging in black, gray, white, blue, and red; and the skillful cinematography of this stage performance make for an hour that is almost unbearably tense, but too captivating to turn from. 

*Sadly, it looks like there's no DVD of the Met's production available yet. Other productions available on YouTube include Michael Powell's 1963 moviethis modern, noirish version; and the UC Davis Symphony Orchestra's performance (in English).

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy Schmidt joined the heroines of Mad Max: Fury Road and Room by also escaping her Bluebeard in 2015. While Fury Road told the tale as an action movie and Room used stark realism, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt did a risky take - humor - and succeeded.

Better Call Saul: The prequel is off to a good start with this concise first season. While it shares characters and the gorgeous New Mexico setting with Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul is developing its own brand of dark humor and character drama, and has its own breakout stars in Rhea Seehorn and Michael Mando. A highlight of the season was finally learning what happened with ex-cop Mike in Philadelphia in an episode that ended with a bravura monologue by Jonathan Banks. I'm hoping a future season will reveal the similarly hinted at dark past in Chile of Giancarlo Esposito's Gus.

South Park: South Park continues its high note as it nears drinking age. The satire in season nineteen was topical and withering without over-the-top seething. Targets included both politically correct ideology and reactionary conservatism, online advertising, gentrification (most notably in a stomach-churningly accurate condo commerical), and America's gun lust. And there was a nice break from the heaviness of real-world problems in a meta episode acknowledging one of the curiosities of the fandom: certain fans' obsession with the imagined romance between minor characters Tweek and Craig. The hilarious episode included musical montages set to fanart submitted by viewers.

Gotham: The pre-Batman Batman show hit its stride in the second season, leading with stellar performances by Cameron Monaghan (I will be so mad if Jerome's not in Indian Hill!), James Frain, Erin Richards, and the rest of  the regular cast. The intertwining of Gotham society's underbelly became more insidious than ever: Jim Gordon's relationship with Penguin's criminal enterprise became even deeper steeped in blood, Ed (the future Riddler) and Penguin became murder-buddies and roommates, and Wayne Enterprises was revealed to be working with Arkham Asylum on a series of inhumane medical experiments.

Besides the Jerome thing, my main complaints are the premature end of Sarah Essen and the unremarked upon absence of Renee Montoya. I hope Montoya's back in the second half of season two, which will feature the great BD Wong as Hugo Strange.


Art

A Robert Dighton work from Luminous Worlds

Janet Delaney: South of Market at the de Young: SOMA is probably the best example of San Francisco's gentrification and housing bubble, so 2015 was the perfect year to look at Delaney's photos of the neighborhood as it was in the 70s and 80s.

Luminous Worlds: British Works on Paper at the Legion of Honor: Tucked away in one of the farthest corners of my favorite museum, this exhibition of physically delicate works by Turner, Beardsley, Blake, and more was truly luminous.

Time|less: Kappy Wells, The San Francisco Gallery: Working with sheetrock and charcoal, Wells captured the magnificence of the glaciers we are losing to global warming. 

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Young Avengers #10 & Afterlife with Archie #1: I Care About Nothing Post-Breaking Bad Edition

"I wanted to leave the runes on the counter...you mewling quim."


I missed doing a recap for Young Avengers #10, which isn't really a problem since I'm just me rambling to myself. It came out on September 25, right in peak Breaking Bad freakout time, and the plights of the fictional denizens of non-fictional Albuquerque occupied all my fictional character headspace. Sorry, Kieron Gillen. Unless Loki and Doctor Doom teamed up to make and sell magical meth (which would be perfect), it just wasn't happening for me.

Anyways, I decided to finally get this up and to group it with Afterlife with Archie #1, out today. This is also related to Breaking Bad, because everything is. The issue is illustrated by Francesco Francavilla, whose  pulpy, noirish work I first saw in Hawkeye. Francavilla is also a Breaking Bad superfan, and he has made minimalist posters for each episode (totally scored one of his limited edition prints of the first episode, bitch). So when I saw he was the artist for a new horror version of the Archie comics I read as a kid, I had to check it out.


Don't do meth, kids.


What happened:

Meta stuff. Loki's been working with Mother, in typical Loki fashion (i.e. in devious ways that serve him and only him well at the moment but add to his ever-growing list of enemies). There's a mention of him "escaping," and we don't know what that means yet. Sorta-Kid-Loki makes a sorta appearance. We also get to see all of Loki's moms, as portrayed by Mother: Jotun queen Farbauti, plus jointly-ruling Asgardian goddesses Freya, Gaea, and Idunn. Props to proudly feminist Gillen and McKelvie for deciding to make the almost-never seen Farbauti a beefcake warrior with icicle hair. Anyhoo, Loki's been messing with Billy's head because of complicated reasons that we'll just have to ride out Gillen explaining in his own special way. And Fake Patriot and Leah are both working with Mother.


Badass.

Meanwhile, Teddy and Leah go to the superhero-exes support group, which consists of Leah, America's ex, Noh-Varr's exes, and, uh, Fake Patriot. Noh-Varr, as everyone already knew, is a Don Juan of space and time. And America's ex, Ultimate Nullifier...oh, honey, why? I just kinda assumed America was into the ladies. Maybe she has realized this too since dating this dude. I do feel he was a little shortchanged, though, since his dialogue is basically clumsily inserted Hipster Ariel. At least Gillen and McKelvie nixed the planned-upon fedora. All we learn about Fake Patriot is that he or she is creepy. Teddy is understandably freaked out by the group and tries to leave, probably to watch Breaking Bad. But he can't, because the group is the kind of malevolent entity that would try to stop you from watching Breaking Bad.


Leah's got a clipboard and Beth Ditto makeup. Watch out.


What's next:

Young Avengers #11 should be out later this month, but I haven't been able to find a release date. Judging from the cover, Loki's in trubs. Or at least naked, since his clothes are burning. And maybe Thor is involved? I can only assume Thor looks so mad in that leaked variant cover because he found out Loki is cooking magical meth with Doctor Doom, probably in an old Skrull spaceship in the wilds of Latveria.



Really, don't do meth, kids.

To be honest, I actually thought this was a comic I'd just buy the first of, mostly to take a gander at Francavilla's art. But I'm hooked! Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa has written an engaging, unsettling comic. The book tackles the most obvious question - zombies in Riverdale? - with aplomb. Jughead's beloved dog Hot Dog is killed, and instead of writing poetry about it like Mary Oliver, he turns to Sabrina, Riverdale's resident teen witch. Against her aunts' orders, she helps Jughead revive his pet...which doesn't go well.


Dogs, don't do meth either.

What I like most about this book (so far) is how true it stays to the Archie canon, and yet how different it is from the Archie canon. Archie Comics have been around since the 1940s, and they've stayed pretty static all those years. No one is ever going to graduate. No one is ever going to change. And Aguirre-Sacasa keeps to those Archie constants (the Betty-Veronica-Archie triangle, the Moose-Reggie-Midge triangle, Jughead loves food, etc) while, with the help of Francavilla's art, casting a dark shadow over them. With inky chiaroscuro and jarring POVs, Francavilla weaves a sense of unease throughout. It's still Riverdale, but it's creepy, creepy, creepy.


So creepy that build-ups to swinging are immediately forgotten.

Big kudos to Francavilla and Aguirre-Sacasa. This could have easily turned into this (which is hilarious, and also features Jughead carrying a bloodied Hot Dog), but it looks like they've got it under control.



Sunday, September 15, 2013

Gale Boetticher's Sing-Along Fun Time

Confession: I can't watch this without tearing up.

Wow. So. Well. Are you vomiting and shaking right now? I have leftover cheesecake and I don't even know if I can eat it. I thought things were tense during last week's shoot-out, but holy shit, that was some laser tag compared to tonight. I don't even...how are we supposed to cope until next week? How are we supposed to process two more episodes?


Deep breaths. Let's relax.

So...how 'bout some comic relief and a reminder of the fun that can co-exist with this show? Sometimes? When things are not horrific? Four of these are even Gale-approved music-and-dance...oh, God, I don't even know if this will make it better or worse.


Breaking Swift

It turns out the turbulent relationship between Walt and Jesse is a perfect fit for the perpetual break-up songs of Taylor Swift, even if Tay-Tay has never (yet) watched a romantic rival choke to death on vomit or SPOILER sent an ex off to be tortured by goddamn neo-nazis. Geezus, I'm never recovering from that. Anyways, taking on the moving setpieces concept of Declan Whitebloom's video for Swift's "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together," Teddie Films chronicles the drama surrounding Walt and Jesse's (then) latest falling-out. Major props to Eddie King for nailing Jesse's stoner voice and to the guy playing Hector for managing to look so darn deadpan throughout.




Breaking Bad: The Middle School Musical

How freakin' charming is this mini-musical by YouTube greats Rhett & Link? With its faux DIY aesthetic and super-talented kids, it looks like Breaking Bad as directed by Wes Anderson. See if you can manage to not start laughing manically during mini Gus Fring's musical number. Oddly, both these first two videos change one small plot point by having Walt not spare Jesse the horror of putting Drew Sharp (aka dirt bike boy) in the acid barrel. I guess when these videos were made, Meth Damon wasn't enough of a breakout to bother parodying. 





Breaking Bad Thanksgiving

Jesse and Walt have a cooking show (apparently shot in a Google kitchen), but instead of Blue Sky, they're making pumpkin pie and turducken. Mark Douglas of Barely Political does the angry "Jesse!" hiss, and of course there's a montage with unexpected music choices and POV shots. And even Fake Jesse gets all the best lines.





Honest Trailer: Breaking Bad

We joke because we love, right? This entry in Screen Junkies' Honest Trailer series is heavy on the honesty, particularly with fans' obsessive behavior (cough) and the show's sometimes uncomfortable racial politics (this was before this half of the season's white power prison gang plot). But seriously, have you seen this show? How about we just watch the pilot? I promise you'll like it.





Joking Bad

And here is Jimmy Fallon's Breaking Bad love letter, a 12+ minute parody set in the cutthroat stand-up world. With painstakingly reproduced shots and Breaking Bad's trademark callbacks ("no end"), this long skit was clearly a labor of love.





Walter White and the Amazing Blue Crystal Meth

But really, who stops at under 13 minutes for a Breaking Bad parody? And doesn't even include musical numbers? A rat, that's who. Low budget and joyous, this hour-long musical by Jackie Johnson and Nadia Osman is a fan magnum opus. And there's a Gale song! There are also interpretive dance murders, a pretty hot Jesse, and terrible bald caps. It's at least 96% pure fun!




Weird Al's Albuquerque

Weird Al Yankovic and Breaking Bad go together. Ok, not really. But Aaron Paul did portray Weird Al in Funny or Die's Weird: The Al Yankovic Story. And then Slacktory went and used Breaking Bad clips to meticulously craft a music video for Weird Al's appropriately weird lengthy ode to Albuquerque. Lydia is the girl of everyone's dreams (especially Todd's).



There. Wasn't that fun? Don't you feel totally better now? Jesse? Jesse?

Jesse, we're paging Captain America and Magneto right now. Then we'll do go-karts.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Dry Decadence: Breaking Bad and Art

Frida Kahlo, Without Hope, 1945

I started watching Breaking Bad recently. I don't watch many TV series. Sopranos, Mad Men, Game of Thrones...I know of them and what generally has happened through word of mouth (that Red Wedding was brutal, right?), but have never actually watched them. Breaking Bad was one of those for me. But then I saw the "I am the one who knocks!" monologue on YouTube. Now it's taking all my self control to not completely drive my friends and family insane with talking about my new obsession, which is pretty much why I started this blog in the first place.

I love just about everything about the series, but one aspect I really appreciate is the visual. Its frames are art, and the show and art have intersected quite a bit. Art - from stock hospital wall watercolors to Walt Whitman's "When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer" - has been important in the series. (Update 8/7: Kara Bolonik's "Leaves of Glass" further explores the Walter White/Walt Whitman connection, and a recent Breaking Bad teaser is Bryan Cranston reading Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Ozymandias."Gallery 1988 did a Breaking Bad themed show, more of the work from which can be seen here. And FaceoftheEarth on Etsy made the news with her Breaking Bad terrarium.


I will show you fear in a handful of dust.


While watching the show's breathtaking shots of the New Mexico skyline and its smaller, tenser, human scenes, different art pieces came to mind, and I decided to start putting them together. For example, the above Frida Kahlo painting, with its desert, Dia de los Muertos imagery, physical suffering, and inner sickness, seems to me a perfect fit for Breaking Bad.


Place

I admire how at one with its setting the show is. While many shows' sense of place is tenuous (Monk's supposed San Francisco, with its front yards and ample street parking, could have been any suburb), Breaking Bad could not happen anyplace else - no more than Twin Peaks could have happened in Orange County or Arrested Development could have happened in the Pacific Northwest. Breaking Bad is firmly in Albuquerque, New Mexico, a sweltering city surrounded by endless desert. The ruggedness of the desert that stretches across the state and into northern Mexico is beautiful, but dangerous. Its vastness allows for cooking meth and testing nuclear weapons far from prying eyes.

This landscape famously captivated and inspired longtime New Mexico resident Georgia O'Keeffe - she of the "vagina paintings" Jane showed Jesse at Santa Fe's Georgia O'Keeffe Museum (maybe Jesse would've preferred this one). Her paintings of New Mexican landscapes and animal skulls bring to mind the beauty, heat-induced confusion, and sense of foreboding of the desert.

Georgia O'Keeffe, Ram's Head with White Hollyhock and Little Hills, 1935


The desert also inspired O'Keeffe contemporary Ansel Adams, whose famous photographs capture the dramatic place where people are dwarfed by land and land is dwarfed by sky.

Ansel Adams, Clouds, New Mexico, 1933


But nature, while powerful, is not untouched in New Mexico. The suburbs and desolate fringes of Albuquerque bring to my mind the sparse paintings of Chris Ballantyne. The dull houses, parking lots, and swimming pools in his work feel intrusive, but precarious. It's easy to imagine the land casually swallowing them up.

Chris Ballantyne, Plateau, 2009


Breaking Bad's interior spaces have their drama too. For me, the show's quiet scenes echo those moody tableaux of Edward Hopper. Skyler, often left to her thoughts and loneliness, especially comes to mind. Her working late to avoid Walt reminded me of Hopper's Office at Night.

Edward Hopper, Office at Night, 1940


Drugs

And you can't have Breaking Bad without drugs! Specifically: blue sky, the blue-tinted ultra-pure meth that is Walter and Jesse's specialty. But there are plenty of other drugs to be had - and not just heroin, cigarettes, and alcohol, but money and power.

This scene takes place in the outskirts of Paris in the late 1800s, not Albuquerque in the early 2000s, and the drug of choice is absinthe, not meth or heroin, but there are definite similarities between it and scenes of addiction in Breaking Bad. The two addicts haven't reached the zombie-like state of the denizens of the rancid flophouse from which Walt rescued Jesse, but they're certainly not doing well. Self-exiled to the sparse city borderlands, only the absinthe matters now.

Jean-Francois Raffaelli, The Absinthe Drinkers, 1881


This painting by Camille Rose Garcia from her Ambien Somnambulants series, with its horror, childishness, and offbeat beauty, reminds me Jane and Jesse's drug-induced downfall. Add a little meth and heroin, and their superhero-creating playfulness turns to petulant beaker-throwing, pissy blackmail attempts, and feverish plans to paint castles in New Zealand. You are not bien, here, Jesse. You are not bien at all.

Camille Rose Garcia, Animals Talk at Midnight, 2008


People

With superb writing and superb acting, Breaking Bad's cast of characters is one of TV's finest. Before watching the show, I knew Bryan Cranston had won a lot of Emmys. After watching the pilot, I was like, "damn, give him all the Emmys." Now that I'm almost caught up, I want to pelt the entire cast with Emmys (and, in fact, Bryan Cranston, Aaron Paul, Jonathan Banks, and Anna Gunn were just nominated today).This is by no means a complete list, as it would otherwise become way too long and nebulous (though I totally want to show Marie this dress), but just whatever art most came to mind with a character. I'd love to know what art has a Breaking Bad character connection for others.

One character might even be getting his own spinoff: lawyer Saul Goodman, whose slime is only matched by his unflappability. The sleazy lawyer character is hardly new (even a cat can do it), but Bob Odenkirk nails it. His Goodman is the Thenardier of this story - incredibly entertaining despite the fact/due to the fact that you'd hate him in real life.  Sure, this painting is of a politician, not a lawyer, but the man's overeager facial expression and calculated lean-in and hand gestures - as well as the two constituents' varying levels of skepticism - remind me of Goodman. If the new show doesn't work out for him, he should consider starting up Goodman, Loblaw & Flynn LLP.

George Caleb Bingham, Country Politician, 1849


The figures in this piece by David Choe might sport boobs, but it feels very Jesse-ish to me. Looking at it, you can imagine the sort of life - sometimes boring, sometimes desperate, sometimes happy - he might have had with pals Badger, Combo, and Skinny Pete had Mr. White never come back into his life.

David Choe, 99 Cent Store


And while we're gender-bending, how about Tuco's vicious, stylish, quietly determined assassin cousins? They'd be worthy opponents for Hellen Jo's trademark badass ladies. (Sorry, bros, but I'm putting my money on Jo's girls. I bet they never even had a "tepidly shoving at your uncle while he drowns your sibling" phase before ascending to ruthlessness.)

Hellen Jo, Shit Twins, 2013


It's hard not to see Walter Jr. in this painting by Manet. He's often at the breakfast table, caught between his two parents: an earnest but strained mother and a manipulative father. Here, the mother looks at the son with concern. The somewhat shady-looking father looks away. The son turns from both of them for the moment.

Edouard Manet, Luncheon in the Studio, 1868


Of course, the driving force of Breaking Bad is its protagonist, Walter White. Greed, fueled by long-standing jealousies and the frustration of powerlessness, has twisted him. This odd painting by James Whistler depicts a wealthy client who stiffed him, and it reminds me of the growing ugliness in Walt - all the sadder when you remember the video he made for his family in the pilot episode.

James Whistler, The Gold Scab: Eruption in Frilthy Lucre, 1879

But while that revenge painting highlights the pathetic side of greed, it can be terrifying as well. Bit by bit, we've seen Walt's transformation from a man who would sacrifice anything for his family to a man who might sacrifice his family. His obsession with his vicious, powerful Heisenberg persona has taken him a long way away from Mr. White, caring father and teacher. He's going down, but will he take his family with him? Will he even care if he does?

Eugene Delacroix, The Death of Sardanapalus, 1827


Sandwich

There are a lot of sandwiches in Breaking Bad, and they're quietly emotional affairs. Walt thoughtfully cuts the crusts of a sandwich he has made for Krazy-8, the drug dealer he has imprisoned in the basement and whom he must kill. Walt seethes while making himself a sandwich in his apartment's kitchen during his and Skylar's separation. Later, Walt cheerfully makes a sandwich and puts it in a brown paper bag labeled "Walt" to take with him to work at his shiny new meth lab. When Walt returns (forcefully) to his family, he treats Walter Jr. to a delicious-looking grilled cheese sandwich. We see Jesse, too, make a sandwich for the neglected toddler who has interrupted Jesse's attempted intimidation of the boy's drug-stealing parents. Making a sandwich in the Breaking Bad universe can be a symbol of survival or a sign - even if faint - of the continued existence of parental love in a vicious world.

This Thiebaud painting seems like the perfect way to end this post. A humble peanut butter sandwich on American white bread. Unfinished, or perhaps just open-faced, against a stark white background.

Wayne Thiebaud, Peanut Butter Sandwich, 2009




Images:
Kahlo: WikiPaintings
Terrarium: Etsy
O'Keeffe: Wikipedia, Brooklyn Museum
Adams: SFMOMA
Ballantyne: ArtSlant, Hosfelt Gallery
Hopper: iBiblio, Walker Art Center
Raffaelli: Legion of Honor
Garcia: Camille Rose Garcia, Adam Levine Gallery
Bingham: WikiMedia Commons, de Young
Choe: David Choe
Jo: HELLLLLEN
Manet: WikiPaintings, Neue Pinakothek
Whistler: de Young
Delacroix: Wikipedia, Louvre
Thiebaud: SFGate, Paul Thiebaud Gallery