You guys. My tummy hurts rill bad. Every time I write something for this show, I’m tempted to note that “it was the most tense hour of television I have ever seen” but I never do, because next week is always the most tense hour of television I’ve ever seen. Case in point? “Confessions.” Wanna have a little fun? If you aren’t current on the show, first of all read no further, and second don’t click this link which will take you to a poll. Let’s get a feel for how fans think the show will end.
The show opened with Todd and cohorts in a skeevy diner as Todd recounts the events of “Train (one of my favorite episodes, by the way).” After Todd makes a call to Mr. White to inform him of the change of management, they finish their breakfasts and return to Albuquerque city limits for Todd to make his first cook. Meanwhile, Walter believes he has tied his last loose ends – Hank and Jesse. But Jesse, at the last second, becomes untied. Completely unhinged, if you will.
Early in the episode we see Walter filming the intro to his confession in the White home. The Whites arrange a dinner with Hank and Marie to wheel, deal, wager, and when none of that works, to confess. Walter slips the recording across the table.
In a beautifully filmed shot, Hank and Marie watch as Walter confesses that he has been cooking meth and murdering people because Hank made him do it. It’s glorious. It’s … my god. The tape started rolling at 9:27, and the spell broke at 9:31 when I giggled (“Jesus Christ Marie”), but I would have sworn that half the show had just played out. Walter went in to minute and believable details on just how tortured and manipulated he has been for the past year. Remember Bill Hicks’s routing about Officer Big Balls? Yeah. Walt is Officer Big Balls.
In a scene packed with emotions I have yet to sort, Walter convinced Jesse to disappear. He Heisenberged it, with saccharine sentiments and elder wisdom, but Jesse’s had just about enough of that shit and called: “Just tell me you need this!” Walter never did, and instead embraced the broken man, who through the miracle of talent and makeup has aged ten years in the one year time line we’ve been watching. Jesse was almost a man that ceased to exist when he realized how the ricin had disappeared and reported directly to Walter’s home (well, not directly, he presumably stopped at a gas station first) to let Walt know exactly how he felt about that. With fire.
And I just have to note this small thing: About 30 years ago George Lucas via Luke Skywalker taught me about metaphoric lighting. It’s one camera trick that always jumps out at me, even when I admittedly miss a lot of other clues. Walter has been lit with varying ratios of light:dark, but tonight, when speaking to Skylar, was nested in total darkness. Not a hint of light on his face. Rather telling, I should think.
How do they do this? How do they take me, in 50ish minutes, from lounging with the dog on my tummy to chain smoking with my ass barely touching the couch? How do I now pity Hank, the man who reminded me of football coaches and bullies of yore? Why am I screaming for Jesse to just run, run far away and don’t look back? Why am I petrified of Bryan Cranston?
Because this is the best writing that has ever aired on television. Probably the best performances, too, but those only go so far with sub par scripting. There are only five episodes left, and I really planned on saving that statement for my last review, but why bother. This show is killing me in the best way possible. No matter what happens in “Felina” I know my opinion will not differ.
So yeah – five episodes. Who’s not ready? *raises hand* Let’s have a brief review of episode titles:
“Rabid Dog.” Based on tonight’s episode, oh god this literally just hit me as I typed “tonight’s episode.” Jesse has lost his shit. What happens to rabid dogs?
“To’hajiilee.” To’hajiilee is a Navajo reservation west of Albuquerque. Housed on the reservation is a medical clinic. Maybe the rabid dog won’t be put down?
“Ozymandias.” The fallen king. Well, allegedly. Anyway – Percy Shelley’s sonnet. Read below:
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Something tells me to have a box of tissues at the ready on September 8.
“Granite State.” New Hampshire is the Granite State. Mr. “Lambert” of 5.1 was from New Hampshire.
“Felina.” OK, it’s a long shot, but it’s all I’ve got… I was raised on “Hee Haw,” y’all. A lot of “Hee Haw.” So when I hear “Felina,” the first thing that comes to mind is a song my mother sang constantly:
You guys. YOU GUYS. “the handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor,” “shocked by the foul evil I had done,” “everything’s gone in life nothing is left,” OH MY GOD JUST LISTEN TO IT!!! OK, I get a little overworked about my theories. BUT SERIOUSLY.