TV Review: BREAKING BAD, 4.5 - "Shotgun"

By T.J. Barnard / August 22, 2011

rating:4

Breaking Bad's latest episode, "Shotgun," opens with a kick of energy that assures an episode of high octane action and aggression. Jesse (Aaron Paul), Walter White's (Bryan Cranston) lab partner, has been taken by cleaner Mike (Jonathan Banks) on a road trip into the unknown. Fearing for the life of his associate, Walt takes to the streets in his car, swerving between vehicles at high speed, and makes a potentially final call to his wife and son. He's prepared for the worst, and rightly so. His destination? Los Pollos Hermanos, where he'll confront his boss, drug kingpin Gus (Giancarlo Esposito). Whilst the opening sequence seems to nudge the narrative into seemingly dooming and volatile circumstances, "Shotgun" actually manages a switch-a-rooney and wisely pulls its punches - it's not time for damning confrontations just yet. What we get instead is new found direction for two characters (Jesse and Hank), and a terrifying, revealing moment that puts definition to the amount of pride Walter White has cooking inside of him. "Shotgun" has another purpose - to mount another dose of tension to a story that's practically breaking under the weight of the stuff. The walls are closing in on Walt. From every possible side. After he arrives at the fried chicken joint, Walt approaches the counter and demands to see Gus. He settles in a booth, his thirty-eight snub concealed beneath his jacket - ready to fire at the first sign of trouble. He wants Jesse back, because, despite everything, he's all Walt has in the way of an ally (and a friend). There's a problem: Gus knows exactly that... and he wants to take him away. A moment passes, and Mike calls Walt's cell phone. "Where's Jesse?" snaps Walt. Mike assures him that Jesse is just fine, that he won't be harmed, and that's that. So where is Jesse going with Mike? After they put to bed the idea that Mike has driven him out to the desert to murder him (Jesse prepares to defend himself, putting his car keys between his knuckles and imitating Wolverine), it's established that the reason for the trip is all about collecting money stashes. Gus' organisation has packets of cash hidden all over the state, and Jesse is there as Mike's back-up. A large portion of the episode is taken up as they go about their business - some lengthy montages come over as glorious executed filler, but there's enough to be had with regards to character development in-between. Mike and Jesse prove just as entertaining a duo as Walt and Jesse. There's more going on than what we see on the surface, of course: Jesse isn't just there for protection. Gus, ever the brilliant tactician, is training the disillusioned junkie for a new role in the business. A telling moment follows, however. A glimpse of Mike's expression after Gus checks up on the day's events offers a new perspective on the obedient cleaner. Beforehand, the way Mike had gone about his job seemed completely professional. He followed instructions and didn't ask questions. Showed unrivalled employer loyalty. Left personal matters out of the equation. Simply put, he did his job the best way possible. He's done nothing to change that so far, but his facial expression in "Shotgun," when Gus leaves him to think on the plan, shows hesitation, and a failure (for the first time, maybe) to completely understand the bigger picture. The seemingly inexistent divide between Gus and Mike - which looked obsolete an episode ago - no longer seems ridiculous. Improbable, that's a given. Impossible? Not so much. What of Walt? There's a chance, finally, to feel a bit of sympathy for the former chemistry teacher, momentary as it is. The only good thing to happen to him lately is his rekindling with Skyler (Anna Gunn), which occurs after she receives his desperate answer phone message hours later. "Shotgun" shows Walter as the victim in all aspects of his situation. After all, this episode hints on the idea that Walt hasn't lost all of his humanity - when Jesse goes missing, he becomes frantic in finding him. But Mike has disrespected him numerous times. Gus won't show his face or meet in person. Walt can't run the meth lab on his own. Jesse isn't talking to him with any respect. When it all seems to have gotten too much, he retaliates in a moment of incomprehensible ill-judgement. At dinner with Skyler, Walter Jr. (RJ Mitte) Hank (Dean Norris) and Marie (Betsy Brandt), the conversation turns to Gale. Convinced that his Heisenberg is dead, Hank has welcomed the closure and compliments the incredible complexity of Gale's brain - what could this guy have done if only he'd been on the good side of the law, huh? Sorry, but there could have been no worse a time to have that particular thought, Hank. After all, Walt's been talked down to, left in the dark, and disrespected for the entire episode, and his brother-in-law's appraisal of Gale's work - actually Walt's work - is the last straw. So he destroys himself. Drunk on wine, he suggests Gale's notebook is the work of a copycat. It bears no sign of original marksmanship. Foolish words, since Walt was essentially off the hook. He was free. Gale had taken the fall. And perhaps Hank's involvement could have died away and given Walt a little breathing room, but he purposely pushes a hunt on himself when it's all finished with. It's the equivalent of making it over the battlefield in one piece, only to turn around and go back again - for no logical reason. Walt wants to prove to himself that he won't be beaten. That he's smarter than anybody else. The gesture pushes Hank into pursuit. He wants his brother-in-law to try and catch him, and to fail. It works like a charm, of course. The next day, Marie finds Hank at the table in a rare good mood, going through the Gale case files for another time. He has to know that Gale was Heisenberg for sure, and he's found a new entry point in the form of a Los Pollos Hermanos flyer. Gale was a vegan, right? "Since when do vegans eat fried chicken?" questions Hank, a glint in his eye. The case is back on. Walt's words will not only haunt him for the rest of the show's run, but the lives of every individual seated at the table will be transformed in potentially disastrous ways. "Shotgun" marks the exact moment, perhaps - as Walt relights Hank's enthusiasm - that words previously uttered by creator Vince Gilligan come into focus: the complete, full-fledged transition of Mr. Chips into Scarface has occurred, it seems, in this very episode.