TV Review: BREAKING BAD, 4.7 - "Problem Dog"
If there's one idea surging through the veins of Breaking Bad's fourth season, it's that Gustavo Fring (Giancarlo Esposito) is in control of every situation.
rating:4
If there's one idea surging through the veins of Breaking Bad's fourth season, it's that Gustavo Fring (Giancarlo Esposito) is in control of every situation. For the run of the show so far, we've witnessed a criminal mastermind at work, running his organisation with unrivalled professionalism and icy tact. Gus is essentially the perfect drug kingpin: Calm, collected, unassuming to strangers, and capable of terrifying levels of intimidation when necessary. His true skill lies in his ability to stay one step ahead of the competition at all times (to Walt's dismay) - enough, anyway, to know that splitting Walt (Bryan Cranston) and Jesse (Aaron Paul) up is best for the future of his operations. But Breaking Bad has a reputation for shaking things up when everything seems set: "Problem Dog", the fourth season's seventh episode, puts the Los Hermanos Pollos manager through a personal earthquake. Like Walt, whose number seemed to be up but two episodes ago, there's a sense that Gus' time at the top may soon be coming to an end. How he handles the coming onslaught from Walt, Jesse, and Hank (Dean Norris) will determine everything. This episode, tense and brilliantly executed, marks season four's mid-point. Jesse is still in a state of anguish after Gale's death. "Problem Dog" begins with him in his house playing a video game with a plug-in gun. Seemingly immersed, he's reminded of Gale as he takes out an enemy with a shot to the head. When it's game over, he must make a choice whether to continue. Symbolic of his struggle, he can't simply give up (he's in too deep), and chooses to try again. Later, his partner pays him a visit. Walt still isn't exactly treating Jesse with the respect and care that he deserves, but they seem on better terms than the last time they had a conversation. Trouble is brewing in Walt's mind, and he can't get a grip on his situation until he removes one nagging element: Gus. Before Walt can relay his plan to Jesse, Jesse preempts his request: "I'll kill him, first chance I get!" There's angst and disgust in the way Jesse puts that sentence together, but there's a sense that he's mostly angry at himself: How did I get into all this? Why am I still into all this? Despite everything, Jesse's loyalty still seems oddly tied to Walt. But it was Mike, and Gus, who brought him out of his state of depression and got him painting the graffitied walls of his apartment white again, not Walt. Despite Skyler's (Anna Gunn) warnings, Walt is still acting carelessly with the immense White family income: instead of taking Walt Jr.'s (RJ Mitte) car back to the dealer, he drives it around a parking lot until he gets it stuck. For no real reason (other than to personify his lack of tact), he sticks some paper in the fuel tank, sets it alight, and sits back and watches. It explodes into a fireball. The whole affair costs Walt $50,000. Does he even blink? No. It's not about the money. Not right now, it isn't. The two most significant events to occur here, however, drive the story into more conclusive territories. The first occurs as Jesse travels with Mike (Jonathan Banks) to Gus' desert trailer (with a vial of poison that Walt has crafted to kill his employer, hidden in Jesse's cigarette pack). Jesse is made to stand guard as the cartel arrive. Gus meets with them in his usual manner. He's polite, and to the point: 50 million dollars to back down. But the cartel have sent a nobody. It's an insult, and Gus is thrown-off. For the first time in business, things don't go quite how he imagined. The second event sees Hank working his newly-restored magic to exciting points. He arranges a meeting with his former DEA colleges and offers his thoughts regarding the Heisenberg case. The story comes across as a fabricated stab in the dark. Gus? The chicken man? Really? An embarrassing accusation in the view of his friends, but they respect him too much to laugh him out of the office. Hank fakes mock defeat, but he's too damned prepared to set up something like this without good evidence. He takes out a soda cup with Gus' fingerprints collected from his chicken restaurant during a previous visit. They match prints found in Gale's apartment. The DEA men are stunned. By the time "Problem Dog" fades to the credits, Gus doesn't seem quite the same. This man has flaws. His composure in the episode says otherwise (he's clever enough to never let his guard down in company), and yet€ he's careless enough to leave his fingerprints at Gale's apartment? To lend his fingerprints to Hank? To be intimidated in a meeting with his enemies? And there are points sprinkled throughout "Problem Dog" that clearly show his face in a light never seen before: Several close-ups show moments of apprehension, fear, and even disbelief. Subtle signs, perhaps, but they're major concerns because Gus has established himself differently for the entire show. Now, he's uncharacteristically human. That very revelation pulls the rug out from beneath our feet. It's one thing that Walt is out of his depth, but Gus, too? The show painted such a deceiving picture: Gus as unstoppable king of an empire, his problems limited to a former high school teacher on an ego trip and a couple of Mexicans that Mike could dispatch with relative ease. But now a weakness has been exposed in Gus (and a potential for failure), the very foundations of what we've been led to believe have been shattered. Truth is, nobody is capable of invulnerability in a business like this. It was stupid to think otherwise: this is the drug business. But Gus was the obstacle, right? Wasn't he the cause of all Walt's problems? If there's the possibility of a chink in the armour of a man like Gus, what hope does that leave for Walt, or Jesse? Past happenings tell us that these two aren't exactly good at controlling their emotional impulses. After all, that's been the problem all along, hasn't it?