"Flawless Episodes" - Day 3

So, Sunday night's episode of Breaking Bad wasn't the first episode of the series to blow my mind.  I could do at least two weeks' worth of write-ups on "flawless" episodes from that series alone.  Off the top of my head, there's "Grilled," "Peekaboo," "ABQ,""Sunset," "One Minute," "Half Measures" and "Full Measure" -  and those are just from seasons two and three.  Add in the pilot episode and Walter's first turn as Heisenberg from season one, and the past few episodes of season four, and it becomes apparent that there's just no other show on television right now that matches the quality of Vince Gilligan's experiment in transforming Mr. Chips into Scarface.

3. Breaking Bad - Season Three - "Fly"

The episode I'm "officially" including on this list, though, is from the back half of season three.  Breaking Bad had done it's share of bottle episodes but in season three's "Fly," the "bottle" that contained the episode was a pressure cooker.  Most shows justify these types of episodes with a plot device that keeps the characters in a single location.  Even Breaking Bad's previous bottle episodes were driven by somewhat external forces - the marathon desert meth cook in "4 Days Out," for example, was instigated by Walt's realization that he doesn't yet have enough money and by Jesse accidentally draining the RV's battery.

"Fly," on the other hand, is completely character-driven.  Walt is just starting to sense that he's lost control of his new situation, that he is perhaps in over his head, and Walt is not a guy who can handle a lack of control.  The consequences of his actions on his life outside the superlab - on his wife and kids, on Hank, on Jane and Jesse - are catching up to him, and Walt, rather than dealing with this mess he's created, focuses all of his frustration, fear and anger on killing a rogue fly that is threatening the cleanliness of his lab.  Jesse, of course, is flabbergasted and annoyed by Walt's OCD-like need to kill this fly, and rightly recognizes that Walt's prioritization of catching this fly over cooking meth is going to put them in a bad situation with Gus.  Jesse slips some sleeping pills in Walt's coffee, and as the pills work their magic we're confronted with one of the most tense scenes I've ever seen on television.

Walt, drugged but still slightly conscious, is spotting Jesse as Jesse balances on a ladder on top of a rolling cart to swat at the fly on the light fixture above.  While Jesse teeters precariously above, Walt begins an emotional, half-awake speech about how he already lived past the perfect moment in his life to die, and then ponders the supposed randomness of the universe by revealing that he met Jane's father on the night that Jane passed away:

Walter: Think of the odds. Once I tried to calculate them, but they're astronomical. I mean, think of the odds of me going in and sitting down that night, in that bar, next to that man.

Jesse: What'd you talk about?

Walter: Water on mars. Family.

Jesse: What about family?

Walter: I told him that I had a daughter and he told me he had one, too. And he said, "Never give up on family." And I didn't. I took his advice. My God, the universe is random, it's chaos. It's subatomic particles and endless pings, collision - that's what science teaches us. What does this say? What is it telling us that the very night that this man's daughter dies, it's me who is having a drink with him? I mean, how could that be random?

Jesse is understandably confused as to why Walt is so emotional about his random interaction with Jane's father on the night of her death.  We, the viewers, know.  It's impossible not to hold your breath as Walt comes so, so close to revealing a betrayal so severe that, well, I don't even know.  If Jesse knew, he'd probably either kill Walt, or just shut down completely.  But the moment passes, the fly is killed, Jesse proceeds to finish the cook on his own while Walt sleeps in the break room.  The episode ends with Walt back in his apartment, lying awake in his bed, another fly taunting him.  Killing one fly is not going to solve Walt's problems.  It's more like a riveting one-act play than an episode of television - in fact, I'm pretty sure there's not even any score over the entire episode -  and I've never seen anything like it before or since.

Oh, and the entire opening sequence plays out sans dialogue like a twisted Buster Keaton movie:

"Flawless Episodes" - Day 2

This week's Demski Five, inspired by Sunday night's Breaking Bad, covers five episodes of television that left me simultaneously awestruck and dumbstruck as the credits rolled - whether it be because of a crazy-intense final sequence, or out of admiration for truly masterful writing and storytelling.  


The episode covered in Day 1 - Twin Peaks "Lonely Souls" - was notable for bringing many story-lines to a head, including the reveal of Laura Palmer's killer, and ended with a mind-blowing scene that managed to convey a mixture of intensity, sorrow, horror, and despair.  Today's episode isn't quite as flashy.  Instead, it appealed to me as a writer in ways that Breaking Bad  often does.  Breaking Bad encourages you to become emotionally invested in its world by cutting the intensity of its meth and murder plot-lines with fantastic character-based humor.  In today's "flawless" episode, the writers bravely explored the real sadness behind the characters we'd been laughing at throughout the previous two seasons, and the result is an episode that still moves me - as both a viewer and a writer - each time I watch it.


So, without further ado:    


2.  Extras - "Christmas Special"


Throughout Extras' second series, we watched Andy Millman simultaneously succeed as a writer and actor while selling his soul to the gods of broad humor and catchphrases. Yet, his success was not just at the expense of his dignity; he also managed to alienate and hurt all of those who had supported him on the way up.  So, in the Christmas Special, we get to see never-content Andy wallowing in the pain of his success, Darren (Stephen Merchant) and his sidekick "Barry from Eastenders" enthusiastically embracing their hilarious / sad new roles as salesmen at the Carphone Warehouse, and poor Maggie realizing that she's been forgotten, abandoned, left in the dust and now must face the consequences of spending most of her twenties and early-thirties goofing off and supporting another person's success.  The Extras Christmas Special ends on a pretty low-key yet positive note, but Gervais and Merchant present the hour as more of a comic tragedy, or perhaps a tragic comedy, pushing away from the more blatantly comedic tone established earlier in the series.  But, of course, the episode is still peppered with gems like this:

"Flawless Episodes" - Day 1

*The Demski Five is my weekly "top five" list. Each week's list will feature a unique theme, and the items on that list will be posted individually throughout the week. As always, I welcome and encourage your contributions to the Demski Five themes in the comments section!

After sitting speechless, mouths agape, for a full two minutes after the closing scene of last night's episode of Breaking Bad ("Crawl Space"), I turned to my friend Olivia and said:

"I think that was the best episode of television I've ever seen."

It's a bold statement, and perhaps a tad hyperbolic, but in the moment it felt absolutely true.

So, in honor of that moment, this week's Demski Five will cover the five episodes of various shows I've seen throughout my life that left me simultaneously awestruck and dumbstruck as the credits rolled - whether it be because of a crazy-intense final sequence, or out of admiration for truly masterful writing and storytelling (last night, it was both).

And, a caveat: This is my list. Yours could very well be different. And, no, I still haven't seen "The Wire."

Possible Spoilers ahead!

1. Twin Peaks - Season 2, Episode 7 - "Lonely Souls"

Halfway into the second season of Twin Peaks, Lynch and Frost reveal Laura Palmer's killer to the audience during an already insanely emotional yet gorgeous scene of various characters watching Julee Cruise perform at the Roadhouse. So much comes to a head in this episode - so many plans foiled by reality (Bobby, Shelly and comatose Leo), so many characters suddenly faced with the consequences of their actions (Donna's betrayal of Harold Smith). Then, with almost ten minutes left in the episode, characters from multiple storylines just happen to show up at the Roadhouse. As the action of the plot slows down, a sudden but intense calm falls over the scene. When Agent Cooper, Sherif Truman are led to the Roadhouse by the Log Lady, that odd Lynchian vibe of something incredibly sinister existing amidst the mundane goings-on everyday life takes over. Julee Cruise and her band disappear from the stage as Agent Cooper has another vision of The Giant, who repeats the phrase "It is happening again" like a broken record.

Then, at 4:16 in this clip, you'll notice a dissolve to a record player - and thus begins an incredibly brutal scene involving Laura's killer, which, for the sake of not spoiling EVERYTHING, I guess, has been cut from this particular video on YouTube. If you've seen the series, then you know the scene, and it surely pops into your conscience from time to time like a bad flashback - I'm genuinely amazed it the network censors allowed it to air. Then we cut back to the Roadhouse and suddenly everybody - even Bobby! - is inexplicably overcome with emotion and the Old Man is apologizing to Cooper and Cooper's brow furrows... And then? End credits. BAH!!! Brilliant! When somebody says that television is somehow lesser than films, I immediately want to rub this episode in their pretentious little face. Er, I mean, nicely show this episode them as a rebuttal to their claim.