Liars and Saints

 To me, one of the most gripping episodes of "Better Call Saul" is "Bagman"; as others have noticed, the writing feels like Shakespeare. Lalo Salamanca--a kind of Iago, without a conscience--finds himself in need of bail money. Specifically, he needs seven million dollars. He knows he can get this money from a cartel he is linked with, but he can't leave his cell to travel to the desert of New Mexico. So he sends his lawyer; he knows his lawyer craves cash and power; also, he doesn't really care if the lawyer is murdered. Lalo enjoys drama; a death would be intriguing, at least. Worse things could be imagined. To mix "play metaphors," our Macbeth, our lawyer, Saul Goodman, tells his wife he is going to fulfill Lalo's command. ("To think! I could be a FRIEND OF THE CARTEL!") Mrs. Goodman has concerns--but there's no stopping Saul. Saul picks up the cash--two massive duffle bags--and he begins his long, long trek back toward Albuque...

 A writer generally has one story, and the story gets tweaked and repackaged several times over the course of one career. "Better Call Saul" is, in some ways, a retelling of "Breaking Bad." Once again, we have a pseudo-biblical conflict within a family; Walt did battle with his "brother," Hank, and Saul does battle with his brother, Chuck. Once again, we have Vince Gilligan having fun by inventing gargoyles. A memorable player in "Breaking Bad" was Ted Beneke, a privileged, idiotic, white guy who created problems for himself. He shows up as a slightly different person--"Daniel Wormald"--in "Better Call Saul." Although Wormald receives good advice from others, he seems determined to screw up his own life. Like Ted Beneke, Wormald pretends to hear reason, then acts just the way (the dumb way) he wants to act. Finally, I'm noticing a big theme: "the banality of evil." Toward the end of "Breaking Bad," Gill...