After five episodes, the creators of Better Call Saul finally called in their not-so-secret weapon: Mike Ehrmantraut.
Oh, he’s been in every episode, but mostly in a running bit with Saul as a parking lot attendant. We have known he is a former Philadelphia cop, and Breaking Bad viewers knew a bit more – but not much – about his past. This episode, though, was his true introduction. It is an elegantly directed episode that has its weaknesses, namely a backstory that occasionally utilizes some hackneyed plotlines and clunky dialogue. “I knew it was you” immediately calls up memories of The Godfather Part II, but unlike Saul’s ’70s film references, this one doesn’t sound right coming out of Mike’s mouth. (I wasn’t sure if that was another of the show’s running gags, or if the dialogue was lazy, but it didn’t work either way.) You need to know who Mike becomes for the episode to be truly satisfactory.
But that’s where that knowledge makes the difference. What makes this episode extraordinary is the performance of Jonathan Banks. On Breaking Bad, he rarely was asked to veer too far out of a familiar range. Mike was the no-nonsense muscle and fix-it man who had no patience for fools, or Walt, and cared only for his beloved granddaughter. Banks was great fun to watch, but at times, the part seemed almost too easy for him, and the writers, who could give him fun, gruff wisecracks to amuse us.
That didn’t happen in this episode. He had to sell Mike’s origin story, a familiar tale of corrupt cops and fathers and sons. Banks had to make us believe Mike’s anguish, and he did it in pivotal scenes with his daughter-in-law. The scenes were greater than the sum of their parts because they helped explain Mike, the shrewd and competent ex-cop who was perfectly willing to work for a drug kingpin. Moreover, the direction is consistently outstanding – with a fine use of sound and light (things are fuzzy when Mike is supposed to be drunk, and then they snap into focus) – and the writing has excellent moments at pivotal times. Banks is outstanding at showing how Mike came to be so damaged, and Bob Odenkirk does well in what is essentially a supporting role this time.
Now I just have to learn Mike’s trick to break into locked cars.
70s film references?
“he’s all over the place! nine hundred feet up to thirteen hundred feet! what an asshole!”
of course, that’s from 1980. feels like the 70s!
Loved this episode. Agree completely about directing brilliance. One example: At daughter-in-law’s house, for most of episode get conversations with Mike…murky, hidden meanings…each of their faces was shadowed, half dark and half lit. Until the end, when Mike tells her the full story, then their faces are in full light, illuminated.
I didn’t find the “I know it was you” to be cliched at all, because that was Mike tricking the cops. If anything, it supports the Jimmy McGill (and Vince Gilligan) view of most cops as stupid and venal, so easily fooled by a well-worn trick.
This tale improves with each new, deeper explain into its characters. Can’t wait to learn more about Chuck.