Better Call Saul and the Subversion of the Pilot
Going into Better Call Saul, we already knew a good amount about the principal character. In Breaking Bad, Saul Goodman was a slick-talking, morally questionable motormouth who happily switched his affiliations on a dime. So, when Better Call Saul starts, we’re meant to believe that this show will show the decay of this man. We were to see a mirror of Breaking Bad’s Walter White: someone who’s decay is birthed from ambition.
But the show starts on a different note. We see an antsy, undeveloped Jimmy McGill practicing his court speech in a bathroom. In many ways, it’s the same character we already saw in Breaking Bad. We’re off-balance. Sure, there are some differences, namely in the character’s level of confidence in himself, but the seedy nature of the character is still very much intact.
From here, the pilot episode continues throwing these curveballs to the viewer, making them constantly doubt expectations they previously may have held. The teenagers that Jimmy defends so valiantly? Well, they were on trial for having sex with a corpse. The skater that Jimmy runs over? It was a con job, and Jimmy caught it before it was announced to viewers. The sedan that runs the skaters over during Jimmy’s scam? Belongs to the mother of Breaking Bad kingpin, Tuco. The pilot, through these scenes, establishes a thorough line for the audience:
The rules of this show are not those of that show.
This isn’t Breaking Bad.
This means, effectively, that your expectations for the show will be subverted. For every scene, practically, the show will lead you on, only to tease you for not realizing the truth of the situation earlier.
Maybe that’s not really the case. In fact, most of the “twists” in this pilot aren’t really twists, since they aren’t even set up for the viewer. Who would possibly think that Tuco’s grandma is somehow connected to the sweet couple from earlier? How were we supposed to guess necrophilia was the crime that Jimmy was trying to defend? We didn’t, and normally, this would make a viewer rightfully frustrated. This is just shock for the sake of shock, right? Well, no.
And here’s why.
This show capitalizes on the aspects viewers forgive in pilots. People come into pilot episodes without context of the world, and expect that context to be fulfilled in the episode. And though this episode gives context, at first it provides a mystery.
Take a scene midway, for example. Jimmy, needing money, finds a check for $26,000 in the mail. This should be huge, and, naturally, viewers expect to see some kind of celebration. The check even comes from a company with his name on it- “Hamlin, Hamlin, and Mcgill”. When we see this, we assume the Jimmy is actually doing much better than he’s letting on, and has secured a nest egg of sorts for himself.
And then he rips the check apart in plain anguish.
It all gets explained later, of course, but because this was the pilot, this came out of nowhere. A lesser show might have established the context before showing this to us. They might’ve had some long-winded scene which establishes that Jimmy’s brother was a successful lawyer, made a company, got sick, and now the company pays him sick leave but registers the checks to Jimmy. This could have been done. But that sounds ridiculously boring. Instead, we get the shock, confusion, and intrigue of seeing a desperate man tear apart $26,000.
Not only do moments like this create shock- they bring us deeper into our character’s world. By doing away with exposition to prepare for these moments, reactions occurs naturally. It doesn’t feel like apart of a greater act or episode- it feels like something that just happens.
While traditional theory might recommend explanation before action, this pilot episode follows the opposite. We see the action, and then receive the explanation. Through this, the audience is engaged thoroughly.
Funnily enough, you could argue the show’s existence is a prime example of this “Action and then explanation” principle. Breaking Bad was the action- Better Call Saul’s story ends with that series. So, in a sense, this series is the explanation. And it’s a very good one at that.
