I Was A Punching Bag For The Mob

This may not constitute a trend, but I've noted a similarity between Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul), at right, the hapless meth dealer in "Breaking Bad," and Georgie (Frank Santorelli), below, the put-upon bartender at the Badda-Bing strip club in "The Sopranos."

Both characters regularly take vicious beatings as a consequence of their employment, and that's something to ponder this Labor Day weekend.

Jessie has most recently had his face rearranged by drug enforcement agent Hank Schrader (Dean Norris) and regularly gets beaten stupid by every hood on the block.

Meanwhile, his partner in crime and former high school chemistry teacher Walt White (Bryan Cranston) goes unscathed.

Bartender Georgie, however, suffers mostly at the hands of his employer, mob boss Tony Soprano and occasionally others in the gang when the mood strikes.

Tony has beaten Georgie with an ice bucket, a telephone receiver and a singing novelty fish, while Ralph "Ralphie" Cifaretto, (Joe Pantoliano) nearly took out Georgie's eye with a chain and padlock he swung like a mace.

Let's all stand and offer a round of muted golf-applause in honor of these two fine gentlemen who regularly take one for the team.

Times Mag: New Mexico Meth Yarn a Heartland Hit

The New York Times Magazine did an excellent article on "Breaking Bad" executive producer Vince Gilligan, and the twisted logic that makes the show's characters so enjoyable to watch. It's called "The Dark Art of 'Breaking Bad.'"
If the Times' online subscription technology prevents you from reading it, you can download this PDF file, which has the text but not the photos that went with the article.
The article points out that B.B. is a hit in the heartland of America, namely the Mid-West, but not so much on the two coasts. It's a "Red State" hit, you could say. Besides breaking standard TV taboos -- the heroes are meth dealers -- the writers have canned the heretofore iron-clad rule of series writing: The protagonist's character can never change. He's got to be the same person from beginning to end, or else the show's premise goes out the window. In B.B., our hero, Walt White, is the king of personality and morality disintegration. Yet we can't stop watching him.

‘Breaking Bad’: Life and Meth in New Mexico

I finally saw the complete third season of AMC’s terrific series, “Breaking Bad,” hands down my favorite TV program of the past several years. In fact, I’ve got to say that BB might be the best thing on the tube – ever.
I hear your chiding. “Bold statement.”
Settle down and listen.
For it’s unpredictable twists, as well as the amount of heart the show displays, there are few, if any, that are better.
There’s more to talk about in this show than a mere blog posting can accommodate, from the protagonist, Albuquerque every-man Walt White’s relationship with his cohort, Jesse Pinkman, to his deteriorating marriage, and relationship with his handicapped teenaged son.
Bryan Cranston, who plays our anti-hero Walt White, achieves the near impossible (SPOILERS HERE, but if you haven’t heard, then you’ve been living in a Pakistani compound), he’s a likable guy who happens to be a meth manufacturer and dealer. It’s an incredible feat to make this work, but somehow Cranston does. This also speaks to the power of the “Breaking Bad” writers, who take hard-to-like characters and somehow make us root for them. (Another spoiler follows. If that’s a problem you should have already stopped reading.) The show’s conceit is that Walt suffers from terminal cancer. He’s got a handicapped son, a mortgage and a wife, and aside from being a high school chemistry teacher, he works a part-time job as a car wash attendant. And in economically broken America of the 2010s, he can no longer provide for his family.
We aren’t supposed to think, “So, under those circumstances, who WOULDN’T deal meth. Walt is a flawed character. He may be the dumbest genius we’ve ever seen on TV. He makes stupid choices, even though his heart is in the right place. Ultimately, we must feel sorry for his unsuspecting family.
Jesse, his partner in crime, is a former high school pupil of Walt’s, and a first-class screw-up. Together, they make beautiful music. Jesse knows the meth business – at least, somewhat – and Walt knows chemistry.
The sharpies and pros that they meet up with in the course of trying to run an illegal business are an education for Walt. Less so for Jesse, who has seen his share of drug-addled opportunists.
By Season 3, we see the transformation of Walt, from high school teacher to “gangsta.” And his mild-manner wife, Skyler, loses much of her innocence, as well.
There are too many sub-plots to discuss here, from the local drug king pin who seems to be a meek businessman, to the two strangely mute cousins who cross the border into Gringo-Land to raise a bit of hell with the locals and pursue Walt. I can only suggest that you see it, starting with Episode 1, Season 1. Immediately.