Better Call Saul (Vince Gilligan & Peter Gould, 2015–2022) Review
The winner took it all.
When Breaking Bad (Vince Gilligan, 2008–2013) aired its finale back in 2013, many hailed it as the greatest TV show ever created. Its depiction of its protagonist’s descent into darkness, combined with its unforgettable cast of characters set against the backdrop of Albuquerque, established a new standard for excellence in the medium of television. I watched it in 2017, and while it has details that prevent me from considering a masterpiece—such as the emotional relationships of Jesse Pinkman—, I can definitely see its brilliance. However, two years after the conclusion of Walter White’s (Bryan Cranston) arc, Vince Gilligan—the same creative mind behind Breaking Bad—and Peter Gould started Better Call Saul, which scratches many of the itches that Breaking Bad left me with.
Comprising 63 episodes—one more than its predecessor—Better Call Saul revolves around Breaking Bad’s charismatic lawyer Saul Goodman (Bob Odenkirk), introduced as Jimmy McGill. He is the younger brother of respected attorney Chuck McGill (Michael McKean), co-founder of the law firm Hamlin, Hamlin & McGill (HHM). The series deftly blends legal drama with dark comedy, a combination that also suits Jimmy’s attitude, as opposed to the darker and serious tone of Breaking Bad and its protagonist, Walter White. It is driven by the characters and relies on dialogue to unfold the plot, which is a logical narrative approach, as Jimmy is someone who navigates both his legal career and personal life through his loquacity, cunning, and ability to bluff his way out of tough situations.
The show takes its time to carefully build layer upon layer of the complex psychological profiles of each character, ensuring that their actions consistently align with their established traits. However, the first two seasons can feel overly slow on a first viewing, which led me to give up on the show in 2017—just after Season 2—believing it to be a lackluster spin-off created to squeeze a few more dollars out of the franchise. Seven years later, however, a friend of mine advised me to reconsider my initial assessment, suggesting that the show was on par with, if not superior to, its predecessor. Having taken his advice, I see my 2017 self reflected in this meme:
The aforementioned first two seasons are sluggish, to say the least. They often feel like fan service to take some Breaking Bad characters back into the game due to Jimmy’s scams. Nothing particularly relevant seems to be happening, and the new characters—Kim Wexler (Rhea Seahorn), Howard Hamlin (Patrick Fabian) and Chuck—initially lack the compelling depth of other characters from Breaking Bad. Chuck and Howard, in particular, are portrayed as morally and professionally superior to Jimmy, serving primarily to reprimand him for his slips. This initially makes them seem like the antagonists in the form of arrogant elitists who belittle the hardworking man for his past missteps. However, with subsequent viewings and an understanding of how the story unfolds, these early seaons become more engaging due to the subtle details that are easily overlooked at first. Still, that doesn’t make them as strong as the later seasons—especially Season 1, which I consider the weakest of all.
Season 3 serves as a key turning point that transformed my perception of the entire story up to that point, including the aforementioned characters. It planted the seed of the idea that the earlier seasons were essential in laying a foundational context to prepare for major events later in the narrative that wouldn’t have made sense otherwise. Every block that forms the structure of Better Call Saul is meticulously and coldly calculated to fit together, leaving viewers grinning at the clever way the plot unfolds. In the end, everything clicks into place—even the smallest details that you might have missed due to the sheer number of them, some of which subtly foreshadow the fate of certain characters. While Breaking Bad already employed this modus operandi, comparing it to the way Better Call Saul executes it is like comparing a college graduate to someone with a PhD.
A fitting example of this is how Gilligan and Gould built an entire series out of a single Breaking Bad scene that originally seemed like a goofy way to present Saul Goodman as a man in perpetual trouble due to his tricks and criminal clientele. At the time, even the writers had no idea that this moment would give birth to a stand-alone show and two of the most interesting characters in the franchise—Nacho Varga (Michael Mando) and Lalo Salamanca (Tony Dalton). In fact, they didn’t even know that Jesse Pickman (Aaron Paul) would become such an important character in Breaking Bad up to that point.1
In a broader sense, the PhD metaphor can be applied to Better Call Saul as a whole. It feels like a more refined and polished work compared to Breaking Bad due to its superior writing, exquisite cinematography, complex character development, sublime acting, and clever narrative structure. Walter White’s character arc, as interesting as it is, boils down to, in Gilligan’s words, “a story about a man who transforms himself from Mr Chips into Scarface”.2 Although he undergoes an interesting transformation, his story is essentially a descent into a downward spiral as his mental state deteriorates over the course of the series. I don’t think many people were rooting for him towards the end of Breaking Bad, in light of his relentless egocentrism and lack of humanity.
Unlike Walter, who enjoys the chaos of destroying everything good in his life—as Mike Ehrmantraut (Jonathan Banks) remarks in an iconic Breaking Bad scene—Jimmy McGill (also known as Slippin’ Jimmy, Saul Goodman, and Gene Takavic) feels genuine regret and remorse for the chaos he causes once he sees the consequences. He is as complex and multifaceted as his many personas suggest, which leaves me with mixed feelings; part of me wants to see him bite the dust for being such a corrupt cockroach, while the other part sympathizes with him for his charm, wit, and relatable personal struggles, especially his troubled relationship with Chuck.
At the outset, Jimmy is portrayed as a hustling, struggling lawyer who genuinely wants to be good, earn respect, and carve out a place for himself in the legal community. He is capable of empathy, kindness, and love, notably shown in his relationship with Kim Wexler and his efforts to care for his older brother. However, the tension between his bona fide intentions and his manipulative, dishonest, and sometimes destructive actions makes him a morally ambiguous character. His impulsive, competitive drive to win, make fast money, be seen as smart, and outwit others often leads him to bend (and frequently break) the law and to cut ethical corners, embodying an “ends justify the means” mentality. This mindset grows more pronounced over time, culminating in his extravagant and flamboyant Saul Goodman persona, which Jimmy adopts to practice criminal defense law, mask his guilt and pain, and establish his own identity while distancing himself from any direct association with his brother Chuck.
Overall, he is someone entrapped in an endless cycle of self-destruction, exacerbated by the poisonous pairing he forms with Kim. Despite his will to change for the best and his regrets, he can’t escape being Slippin’ Jimmy, as Chuck insistently reminds him throughout the series.
I love my brother. There’s nothing malicious in Jimmy. He has a way of doing the worst things for reasons that sound almost noble.
— Chuck McGill
WARNING
Spoilers ahead. Read the last two paragraphs (including the quote) for my overall takeaway from the series.
Jimmy’s relationship with Chuck is one of the most intricate aspects of Better Call Saul, and one that lingers throughout the series—even after Chuck’s death. At its core, their conflict revolves around power dynamics and jealousy, as Chuck’s sense of superiority is the foundation of his relationship with Jimmy. This is best illustrated when Jimmy was working in the mailroom at HHM; Chuck treated Jimmy well because he saw no threat in him. But once Jimmy earned his law degree, Chuck quickly turned critical. He accused Jimmy of taking shortcuts, belittled his degree from the University of American Samoa, and insisted that people don’t change, implying that Jimmy would inevitably revert to his Slippin’ Jimmy ways, abusing the law and hurting people in the process. Chuck’s criticisms are delivered in such a passive-aggressive manner that they reveal his underlying insecurity and resentment toward his younger brother. While they weren’t entirely unfounded, they ultimately became a self-fulfilling prophecy that contributed to Jimmy’s transformation into Saul Goodman.
Though highly respected in his profession, Chuck lacked Jimmy’s natural charm and likability, as evidenced by their parents’ favoritism and indulgence of Jimmy and by the fact that Chuck’s ex-wife Rebecca (Ann Cusack) found Jimmy more amusing than Chuck. In addition, Chuck struggled to accept that a screw-up like Jimmy could ever be his professional equal in a field as sacred to him as the law. This insecurity ultimately triggered his psychosomatic illness, a condition that represented his deep-seated anxiety. Moreover, not only did it sideline Chuck from practicing law while Jimmy’s career was on the rise, but also served as a way to deflect any direct comparison between the two—something Chuck probably feared due to his superiority complex over Jimmy.
The resolution of their conflict sheds light on the true nature of Howard Hamlin, HHM’s managing partner and Chuck’s protégé. Initially, Howard is framed as an antagonist to Jimmy, seemingly blocking his career advancement and preventing him from joining the firm as a lawyer. This notion is reinforced by his slick, all-business demeanor, expensive suits, and carefully groomed persona that fit the stereotype of a smug, wealthy lawyer. As the series progresses, however, it becomes evident that Howard’s actions aren’t motivated purely by personal malice toward Jimmy. Much of his behavior stems from his loyalty and deference to Chuck, who wields considerable influence over him and is the real obstacle to Jimmy’s progress. Out of respect for Chuck, Howard follows his wishes, which often makes him being the visible face of Chuck’s decisions, creating the illusion that he is the villain. As viewers, we slowly come to understand that Howard is caught in the middle of the McGill brothers’ rivalry, so he tries to balance his reverence for Chuck with the demands of managing HHM.
Eventually, Howard emerges as a principled and professional lawyer, deeply committed to both his clients and the firm’s reputation. His respectful treatment of Kim after she leaves HHM to go start her own practice, as well as his refusal to accept her repayment of her law school tuition, highlight his integrity. He holds no personal grudges and even offers opportunities to both Kim and Jimmy later in the series, demonstrating his fairness and professionalism.
Nonetheless, after Kim and Jimmy’s scheme against Howard to expedite the resolution of the Sandpiper case, he experiences a profound personal and professional crisis. His downfall is remarkably poignant because, despite his flaws and occasional arrogance, he is fundamentally a righteous man. He strives to take the high road and maintain his dignity and professionalism, but he’s drawn into a spiral of circumstances beyond his control when he’s caught up in the criminal world that ensnares Jimmy and Kim. As a result, Howard becomes one of Better Call Saul’s tragic casualties—along with Nacho—as Lalo kills him in their first and only encounter on the show; two unrelated characters, plot-wise and morally, in the wrong place at the wrong time.
With Howard out of the equation, the collapse of one of Albuquerque’s most prestigious law firms becomes inevitable, mirroring the personal destruction of those most devoted to the law: Chuck and Howard.
Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness.
— Howard Hamlin paraphrasing Al Capone
Despite Jimmy and Kim’s involvement in what happens to Howard, Kim is the main perpetrator of the stratagem. As Jimmy’s partner in both life and crime, she plays a crucial role in his character development and the overall plot. Unlike the typical female character who primarily serves to challenge the protagonist’s morals, such as Skyler (Anna Gunn) in Breaking Bad, Kim is fully realized as an independent individual with her own interests. She undergoes a process from a competent and honest lawyer to someone capable of making morally questionable decisions, mirroring Jimmy’s transformation into Saul Goodman. While Jimmy’s moral decline is more pronounced and deliberate, Kim’s journey into the gray areas of law and morality is more nuanced and introspective, heavily influenced by both her relationship with Jimmy and her upbringing.
Kim’s relationship with Jimmy is somewhat similar to that of Howard and Chuck in that she is often torn between her love for him and her concern for his moral choices. She is aware of Jimmy’s tendency to bend the rules and exploit loopholes, but she constantly tries to steer him toward more ethical behavior. Nevertheless, her loyalty to him remains unwavering, and which leads her to become increasingly entangled in his schemes. While Kim frequently disapproves of Jimmy’s more reckless or dishonest actions, she is also drawn to the thrill they provide. This duality becomes a key theme in their relationship: Kim recognizes the dangers of Jimmy’s actions, but cannot resist the allure of being a part of them—a point that Howard stresses shortly before his demise.
Kim’s inner struggle is rooted back in her childhood, as revealed in flashbacks at the beginning of some late-season episodes. Growing up in a small, troubled town, she had to work hard to make her way through law school. Her mother’s poor role model didn’t help either, leaving Kim without a solid moral compass other than the values she acquired in college and her own sense of justice, which she eventually compromises on several occasions.
To assuage her remorse for her wrongdoings, she volunteers for pro bono work. As the intensity of her pain increases, so does her urge to do it, to the extent that she leaves her legitimate positions at Mesa Verde and Schweikart & Cokely to pursue it full time. There are also subtle clues to her chaotic mental state state, such as her smoking habits and her evolving hairstyle, which changes from her signature blonde ponytail to a long brunette style. Even the tightness of her ponytail indicates her state; the tighter it is, the more serious and confident she appears.
Despite her intelligence and self-awareness, Kim’s fascination with the dark side of morality leads her into a perilous situation that takes a heavy toll. Though she begins with good intentions and a solid moral foundation, she ultimately falls victim to her own choices and her relationship with Jimmy, epitomized by the aftermath of Howard’s death—an outcome indirectly influenced by her and Jimmy’s schemes. As a result, she is overwhelmed with such guilt that she realizes she can no longer continue down this path, so she breaks up with Jimmy and leaves him, understanding that they are toxic to everyone around them and that their plans are leading them to destruction.
Kim’s departure from the show marks a pivotal moment in both Jimmy’s and her arc. On the one hand, Jimmy fully embraces the unscrupulous Saul Goodman persona we see in Breaking Bad, serving as a statement that she was the last anchor that kept him from completely losing himself in his depravity. On the other hand, Kim flees Albuquerque to leave her past behind and start an anodyne life, which is depicted in “Waterworks” (S6E12).
If Jimmy hadn’t gotten involved in sordid affairs with cartel members, Howard’s death probably wouldn’t have happened. Very early in the series, he crosses paths with Nacho Varga, a close associate of Tuco Salamanca (Raymond Crux) and a member of the Salamanca family. Unlike the hotheaded Tuco, Nacho is calm, collected, and much more level-headed. Unlike many other cartel members, he is not purely motivated by power or money; he comes across as a decent person at heart who probably started out doing small tasks for the cartel only to realize too late that he had passed a point of no return. His involvement with the cartel is such that Hector Salamanca (Mark Margolis), the family patriarch, ends up using his father Manuel Varga’s (Juan Carlos Cantu) upholstery shop as a front for the drug ring. Manuel despises Nacho’s involvement in the business and eventually urges him to leave home and turn himself in to the authorities. However, Nacho’s bond with his father is the only genuine and loyal relationship in his life, so he seeks a way to leave the life of crime to protect both himself and his father from the dangerous world he has become entrenched in.
In an act of desperation, Nacho attempts to kill Hector by tampering with his heart medication. However, his plan doesn’t go as intended, resulting in Hector suffering a stroke instead of dying, which leaves him incapacitated in a wheelchair and sets the stage for his future appearance in Breaking Bad. Nacho’s actions don’t go unnoticed, and his attempt to kill Hector medication eventually brings him into conflict with Gustavo Fring (Giancarlo Esposito), who discovers the plot. From this point forward, Nacho becomes a pawn in the escalating war between Gus and the Salamanca family, as Gus coerces him into becoming an informant within the Salamanca operation, forcing him to work as a double agent. His involvement with the cartel feels more like a prison rather than a path to success, as his situation becomes increasingly dire.
The tragedy of Nacho’s character lies in his chronic entrapment. Despite his intelligence, strategic thinking, and adherence to orders, he is unable to break free of the cartel’s control. His character arc parallels that of Jesse in Breaking Bad, both reflecting the inescapable nature of the criminal world despite their sincere intentions and flawed yet good hearts. Even in the midst of his criminal activities, Nacho is distinguished by his humanity and profound sense of responsibility to those he loves. His fate is a tragic but fitting conclusion to his character arc, as his sacrifice allows him to die on his own terms, demonstrating the depth of his courage and devotion to protect his father.
After Nacho’s death, one of the show’s most heartbreaking scenes unfolds as Mike informs Nacho’s father of his loss. In light of this revelation, Manuel delivers a thought-provoking reflection, asserting that all gangsters are essentially the same. Even if we perceive Mike as a principled criminal, he is not fundamentally different from the others; his sense of justice leads to more bloodshed, perpetuating a cycle that only results in more death and grieving families. Their encounter is also symbolic, accurately summed up by a YouTube comment on the video below: “A corrupt father with an innocent son, and an innocent father with a corrupt son”.
Although Mike Ehrmantraut’s reasons for getting involved in the criminal world diverge from Nacho’s, they both stay in the game due to their family ties. However, their futile outcome is the same as that of those who enter this wretched world; both end up dead and with their money in someone else’s pocket.
Mike plays a crucial role in both Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul, yet we learn very little about his personal life in the former. In contrast, Better Call Saul delves deeper into his character, especially in “Five-O” (S1E06), which unveils aspects of his backstory, including his past as a corrupt cop and its connection to the death of his son, Matt, who was also a cop.
Matt was killed because of the corruption in his precinct as he refused to take a cut of dirty money. Mike advised him not to take it, but also warned him of the potential dangers of distrust within his precinct. Tragically, his warning eventually came true, and Mike’s grief and guilt over his son’s death pushes him into Albuquerque’s criminal underworld to provide financial security for his granddaughter, Kaylee, and daughter-in-law, Stacey (Kerry Condon).
Speaking of which, Kaylee’s age is the most glaring inconsistency in the entire Breaking Bad universe. In Breaking Bad Season 5, she is 10 years old. She is supposed to be an infant in Better Call Saul Season 1, but the actress (Faith Healey) was 12 at the time, which makes no sense. This doesn’t affect the narrative per se, but considering the crew’s attention to detail, it’s certainly off-putting.
Within the cartel world, Mike is the antithesis of the Salamancas in that he has a code of honor—never forgetting that he is a criminal—that refuses to implicate innocents and disdains unnecessary violence. Therefore, he teams up with Gus, who is more in line with his idea of discipline and pragmatic approach to business. Although Mike eventually becomes Gus’s right-hand man, he is often morally conflicted about Gus’s orders, especially when he’s forced to resolve both Werner Ziegler’s (Rainer Bock) and Nacho’s situations with such tragic outcomes. Despite his reservations about Gus’s orders and Mike’s empathy for the victims, he remains loyal to Gus for the order and level-headedness that other criminals lack, which ultimately allows him to continue to provide for his family.
In addition, Mike often collaborates with Jimmy on various schemes. From their first interaction in the pilot episode, “Uno”, the show sets up an interesting contrast between the two: Mike works as a legitimate parking lot attendant at the courthouse, while Jimmy repeatedly tries to avoid paying the parking fee. Mike is rigid and by the book, whereas Jimmy is constantly looking for ways to bend or break the rules to his advantage. Despite this dynamic, they often work together and share a certain level of respect; Mike appreciates Jimmy’s resourcefulness and sharp legal mind, while Jimmy respects Mike’s intelligence, efficiency, and expertise in situations that require intimidation or surveillance. However, Mike distances himself from Jimmy because he prefers to do only what is necessary and avoid needless harm, in stark contrast to Jimmy, who frequently takes risks and shortcuts without much regard for the potential collateral damage.
Mike’s boss, Gustavo Fring, is an enigmatic and calculating figure, making him one of the most terrifying characters in the Breaking Bad universe. His dual identity as the friendly owner of the fast-food chain Los Pollos Hermanos and a ruthless drug lord capable of extreme violence when necessary showcases his mastery of deception. His public persona serves as a facade for his cartel operations, presenting himself as a polite, charitable, and community-minded businessman involved in Albuquerque’s causes. Many consider him a model citizen, which provides a perfect alibi for his illicit activities. Gus understands the importance of public perception, and his ability to seamlessly blend into legitimate society renders him far more dangerous than the overtly violent Salamancas.
Much of Gus’s dark nature stems from events that occurred long before Better Call Saul, particularly when Hector Salamanca killed his partner Max in the presence of the Mexican cartel, as depicted in Breaking Bad’s “Hermanos” (S4E08). Although Gus is ultimately driven to avenge Max’s death, he is not the typical hot-blooded character who strikes at the first opportunity. His approach to vengeance is slow and measured, especially with regard to Hector, as Gus meticulously orchestrates his suffering over the years rather than seeking immediate gratification by killing him. Such is his hatred that he tells Mike that a bullet to Hector’s head would be far too humane, painting Gus as a crocodile patiently waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
One of the most notable aspects of the war between Gus and the Salamancas is the contrast between their leadership styles. Hector, Lalo, and Tuco Salamanca are volatile and prone to violence, whereas Gus is the complete opposite—patient, cold, composed, and always in control. As a master strategist, Gus operates with an unparalleled level of caution and precision, carefully analyzing every possible scenario to ensure he stays several steps ahead of both his allies and enemies. This disciplined approach makes him one of the most implacable and powerful characters in the series.
In Better Call Saul, Gus’s character is further developed to show how much of the drug empire we see in Breaking Bad is built on patience and careful planning. His strategy to undermine the Salamanca family from within through his control over Nacho, while secretly building his own infrastructure to eventually sever ties with the Mexican cartel, is exquisitely executed. In addition, I appreciate how Better Call Saul provides glimpses into his personal life, as he often feels too much in character in Breaking Bad, like someone whose role is just to be the villain. He has little personal background or any apparent reason beyond power and money—none of which he spends on hedonistic pleasures—to build his empire. However, the series hints that he is unable to get over Max’s death. He lives in seclusion and is reluctant to connect with others; whenever he begins to develop a relationship, he withdraws, presumably haunted by Max’s memory.
Lalo Salamanca, Hector’s nephew, is the only character Gustavo fears in the entire Breaking Bad universe. He is introduced relatively late in the series (Season 4), after Hector is incapacitated. However, he stands out as one of the most memorable characters in the franchise and a key figure in Better Call Saul. Lalo is far more charming, intelligent, and perceptive than the other members of his family, which Gus recognizes as a significant threat. Although Gus has very delimited personalities depending on the business at hand, displaying a serious and stern demeanor in his drug affairs, Lalo always projects a carefree and friendly attitude. Nevertheless, as Gus’s public persona, this is highly deceptive, as they are both psychopaths underneath.
Lalo’s unpredictability and his ability to resort to violence without a second thought is depicted several times throughout the series. He can be chatting or joking one moment and taking a life the next. For example, he kills Fred in “Winner” (S4E10), an innocent citizen, as if he were cooking burritos.
I want to emphasize the cartoonish way Lalo commits the murder, which is frustrating because of its unrealistic portrayal. Unfortunately, this is not an isolated case, as the action scenes in Better Call Saul, though (thankfully) rare, often feel at odds with the show’s grounded storytelling. For example, Marco and Leonel Salamanca (Daniel Moncada and Luis Moncada) slaughtering the Espinosas on their own turf in “Talk” (S4E04) feels more like something out of a Grand Theft Auto mission. Also, the fight Mike has in “The Guy For This” (S5E03) comes across as unrealistic due to his age, despite his martial arts skills. Likewise, the car scene in “Bagman” (S5E08) is another instance of the writers injecting exaggerated drama to artificially steer the story in their desired direction. Are you telling me that a car just happens to roll like that after killing the driver on a straight road? No! They orchestrated it! There were certainly more plausible ways to insert false hope into Jimmy and Mike’s plight.
That being said, Lalo’s suspicions about Gus’s intentions ignite a tense cat-and-mouse game between the two, with Gus manically careful not to be exposed while also plotting to take Lalo down. The tension between the two feels like a high-stakes chess game, as they both respect and fear each other, but neither is willing to back down, leading to an eventual showdown that Gus ultimately wins. Realistically, though, Lalo should have won, as he’s portrayed as a stronger and smarter character overall than Gus. However, that would contradict the established events of Breaking Bad, so I can understand and respect the way the writers decided to end his arc.
Symbolically, the fact that Lalo is buried alongside Howard highlights the stark juxtaposition of their characters—polar opposites on the moral spectrum—and underscores the cruel randomness of Howard’s death and how easily people can vanish without a trace in the cartel world. It also reflects the consequences of Jimmy and Kim’s twisted plan, which, as already stated, is the main catalyst for Howard’s death.
Following the breakup of Jimmy and Kim in “Fun and Games” (S6E09) due to Howard’s death, the series takes an intriguing, if initially confusing, turn. Subsequent episodes shift the focus to Jimmy’s Gene Takavic persona, which he adopts after the events of Breaking Bad in an attempt to evade law enforcement and the fallout from his association with Walter’s meth empire. This persona is introduced in Better Call Saul through the black-and-white flash-forwards that open each season (except Season 6), depicting him as a Cinnabon manager in Omaha, Nebraska—something Jimmy foreshadows in the penultimate Breaking Bad episode “Granite State” (S5BE15). The main purpose of these scenes is to portray his fear and paranoia of being recognized as Saul Goodman and potentially being reported to the authorities or someone linked to his past. Furthermore, they depict his colorless, monotonous, and lonely life after fleeing Albuquerque, as he is removed from the only source of meaning in his life: the law.
In a sense, his life as Gene represents the price to pay of his full transformation into Saul Goodman and the consequences of living on the edge. A man who once thrived on bending the law now lives as a prisoner of his own past. The only color he finds as Gene is in memories of the past, such as the TV commercials he made as Saul Goodman or the flame of the lighter that Kim uses to lit his cigarette in the final episode.
Starting with the episode “Nippy” (S6E10), the writers show that he cannot completely escape his con man instincts, echoing Chuck’s words “He’ll never change”. Gene engineers a plan to win over Marion (Carol Burnett) in order to get in touch with Jeff (Don Harvey / Pat Healy), the taxi driver who recognized him in “Smoke” (S4E01). Due to a contract issue, Don Harvey’s role was recast with Pat Healy, who gave a good performance but lacked the creepy, menacing, and unsettling vibe that Harvey had distilled. Harvey’s character seemed already familiar with “the game”, unlike to Healy’s character, who comes across as a downtrodden loser still living with his mother.
To illustrate what I mean, compare this:
To this:
Rather than recasting an actor who neither resembles nor evokes the essence of the original character in the slightest, it would have been better to take a different approach to advancing the plot. However, if we manage to overlook this inconsistency (hard to do), Jeff’s storyline is necessary to get him into legal trouble due to the elaborate scams Gene is planning to get Jeff into “the game”. While these schemes are indeed amusing, they disrupt the vertiginous rhythm of Season 6. It’s also disheartening to see Gene succumb to his old ways, as it feels like an addict relapsing into his bad habits because of the emptiness he feels inside.
In the penultimate episode, “Waterworks” (S6E12), Marion’s growing suspicions about Gene lead her to investigate his past as a con man in Albuquerque. Out of fear, she presses her life-alert button and tells the operator that Saul Goodman is in her kitchen, causing Gene to flee. The main focus of this episode, however, is the depiction of Kim’s life in Florida years after her breakup with Jimmy, setting the stage for the events of the final episode.
Kim now has darker hair and a different accent, denoting a shift in her now ordinary life. She’s involved in a relationship with someone she doesn’t like, and her job at Palm Coast Sprinkler, elaborating sales material, is far from exploiting her legal expertise or intelligence. At one point, Jimmy calls her many years after their last contact, prompting her to return to Albuquerque to reveal the truth about Howard’s fate to his widow, Cheryl (Sandrine Holt). Though Kim’s affidavit doesn’t lead to prosecution due to a lack of physical evidence, she seems indifferent to the legal implications of her confession; she simply wants to put her past behind her and come to terms with her mistakes. This desire drives her to volunteer for pro bono work, a habit with which we are already familiar.
The last physical interaction between Jimmy and Kim is depicted in a flashback in which they sign their divorce papers. Kim is repulsed by Jimmy’s harsh demeanor as Saul Goodman, a sentiment further emphasized in her encounter with Jesse Pinkman outside Saul’s office. This scene contains many relevant aspects, such as Kim leaving Saul Goodman out of her life while Jesse takes her symbolic relay, representing the dark path he is about to take. This moment also marks both first Jesse’s first chronological appearance in the franchise and the last time we see him as viewers.
The series finale, “Saul Gone” (S4E13)—whose title sounds similar to “It’s all gone”—, is one of the best episodes of any TV show I’ve ever seen. Gene is arrested in a dumpster after Marion’s report, which can be read in many poetic ways. From one perspective, it’s particularly ironic that an elderly woman plays a key role in Gene’s capture, considering that Jimmy built his career on working with elderly clients in his early days. From another perspective, the fact that the police found him in a dumpster is an accurate representation of him as a person, no matter how hard he tried to split his identity into different personas. This detail is later pointed out by Marie Schrader (Betsy Brandt), Hank’s widow, during negotiations for a plea deal between Jimmy, Bill Oakley (Peter Diseth), and a team of prosecutors.
Jimmy manages to strike a deal that reduces his sentence to just seven a half years in a comfortable prison where he can enjoy Blue Bell mint chocolate chip ice cream—the same flavour he was taking in “50% Off” (S5E02), when Nacho forced him into the car—every Friday. This deal showcases Saul’s legal brilliance, but also underscores his ongoing reliance on manipulation and deception to achieve his goals, even in the face of overwhelming evidence against him. To further reduce his sentence, he plays his ace up his sleeve by offering information about the murder of Howard Hamlin. However, he’s informed that Kim has already disclosed the truth about Howard’s fate, which shocks Jimmy. This moment marks a turning point in his approach to the trial, as he recognizes in Kim’s decision a moral courage that he himself lacks, motivating him to follow a similar path to redemption.
In order to get Kim to witness Jimmy’s testimony in court, Jimmy fabricates that he has additional information about the case. This ultimately leads to the show’s climax and results in one of the most powerful scenes of redemption I’ve ever seen in any medium.
In this scene, the Saul Goodman persona is finally gone, replaced by the real Jimmy McGill. He chooses to serve the original 86-year prison sentence—but with good behavior, who knows?—and take full accountability for all his crimes and misdeeds, including those related to Walter White’s meth empire, his role in Chuck’s downfall, Howard’s death, and all the collateral damage. He finally confronts all the inner struggles and regrets he has kept concealed throughout the series, accepts the full weight of his crimes, and comes to terms with his fate.
The series is rich with subtle yet significant symbolism, such as the ants (representing the cartel) devouring Jimmy’s ice cream (symbolizing his morality) in “The Guy for This” (S5E03), and the enigmatic bluebell in the desert during the intro of “Rock and Hard Place” (S6E03) as a tribute to Nacho. However, one of the most striking examples occurs in this scene. In particular, the shot where Kim stands between the letters E and X symbolizes her status as Jimmy’s ex, while the buzzing EXIT sign serves as a tribute to Chuck.
Nonetheless, the episode doesn’t solely focus on Jimmy’s legal resolution. It also features interwoven flashbacks of Jimmy/Saul asking Mike and Walter where they would go if they had a time machine. Mike’s initial response is “December 8th, 2001”, likely the day he told his son not to accept the dirty money. He then corrects himself and says “March 17th, 1984”, the day he took his first bribe. He marks this date as the turning point of his life, which put him on a bad choice road that ultimately led to his son’s death. This serves as an exceptional conclusion to his character arc in Better Call Saul, reinforcing his repentance and the pain stemming from a choice that gave away his integrity.
As for Walter, he initially refuses to answer Saul’s question, instead fixating on the scientific impossibility of a time machine, which underscores his manic state at this point in the series—reminiscent of Breaking Bad’s “The Fly” (S3E10). He eventually gives a disingenuous response, focusing on his regret at leaving Gray Matter and lamenting the fortune he could have made—as if he didn’t make more money with his drug empire. However, there is a notable shot of the wristwatch Jesse gave Walter for his birthday in Breaking Bad’s “Fifty-One” (S5E04), subtly suggesting that Walter’s real regret was his treatment of Jesse.
In both conversations, Jimmy/Saul gives insincere answers to conceal his true inner struggles, which disappoint both Mike and Walter, especially the latter. When Saul tells Walter that his biggest regret is that he broke his knee in a slip-and-fall outside Marshall Field’s, Walter replies, “So you were always like this?”—echoing Chuck’s line, “People don’t change! You’re Slippin’ Jimmy!“. Likewise, Jimmy tells Mike that he would go back to the time when Warren Buffet took over Berkshire Hathaway, a materialistic reply that disappoints Mike because it avoids reciprocating his genuine and painful reflection.
The penultimate scene of the show, however, reveals Jimmy’s true regret through a masterful use of show, don’t tell. While this approach is prevalent throughout the franchise, this particular moment is one of its most powerful executions.
This flashback takes place just before the first episode of the series, implied by Jimmy bringing the Financial Times to Chuck in “Uno” (S1E01). As a minor detail, there is a chronological inconsistency in the scene because Jimmy is wearing Marco’s ring, which he doesn’t obtain until “Marco” (S1E10).
Had Jimmy expressed his doubts and listened to Chuck’s advice, Better Call Saul—and by extension, Breaking Bad—would never have existed. Chuck, who is occasionally seen reading H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine, and who explicitly tells Jimmy there’s no shame in changing paths, would likely have been more receptive to discussing Jimmy’s inquiry than the people he asked. This begs the question: did Jimmy really enjoy being a lawyer, or did he pursue it out of envy for Chuck and his success in the field? Based on Jimmy’s bitter reaction, I’d lean toward the latter, although he definitely found solace in his success as a lawyer.
In the final scene of the Breaking Bad universe thus far, Kim visits Saul in the federal prison. They share what is likely their last cigarette together, a poignant callback to their first scene together, smoking in the courthouse parking lot in “Uno” (S1E01). The silence during their encounter speaks volumes about their shared history and the bond that still exists between them, despite everything. Kim leaves the prison, and the final shot shows Jimmy standing in the prison yard watching her walk away, a moment that made me burst into tears. There is no reconciliation or happy ending, but there certainly is a sense of closure. Jimmy has finally taken responsibility for his actions, and Kim acknowledges the man he once was, even if they can no longer be together. Also, it’s kind of ironic that the main lawyer in the Breaking Bad universe is the only character to be prosecuted and incarcerated.
The final shot of Jimmy making a finger-gun gesture to Kim is a throwback to when she did the same to him in “Something Unforgivable” (S5E10) as a sign of her confidence in her plan against Howard. This time, Jimmy is confident in his choice, and though Kim doesn’t return the gesture as enthusiastically, she still subtly mimics it with her hand—an important detail I initially missed.3 Kim’s measured acknowledgment of her complicity in the gesture, coupled with her reluctance to return it effusively, signifies that she is moving on from their relationship without denying their mutual complicity.
While the resolution of Breaking Bad focuses on the consequences of a man’s corruption fueled by power and selfishness, the ending of Better Call Saul emphasizes personal responsibility and redemption. It offers a more introspective and morally complicated conclusion, aligning with the series’ character-centric nature. Jimmy’s confession and decision to serve a life sentence is his way of stating that people can change, but only through great personal sacrifice and the commitment to do what is right—not by escaping or manipulating the system, but by fully accepting the consequences of his actions.
Simply put, Better Call Saul is the best TV show I’ve ever seen. It stands as a testament to Vince Gilligan and Peter Gould’s ability to transform a supporting character, originally intended for comic relief in the murky world of Breaking Bad, into a deeply complex individual. In the end, Jimmy is neither a villain nor an antihero; rather, he is both a relatable and flawed individual whose questionable choices lead him down a bad choice road. In many ways, his journey reflects our inner struggles, which we tend to suppress or bury to avoid the discomfort of confronting them. Choosing to ignore them may seem easier in the short term, but the burden they create can grow to the point of imprisoning us in our own misery. Even by the time we try to make amends, it may be too late, and the debt for all the destruction wrought can be incalculable—just as every choice Jimmy made led him to end up into such a situation.
We all make our choices. And those choices, they put us on a road. Sometimes those choices seem small, but they put you on the road. You think about getting off. But eventually, you’re back on it.
— Mike Ehrmantraut
“People” YouTube channel (May 27, 2022). “‘Breaking Bad’ Full Cast Reunion ft. Bryan Cranston, Bob Odenkirk, Aaron Paul & More | PEOPLE”. youtube.com.
MacInnes, Paul (May 19, 2012). “Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan: the man who turned Walter White from Mr Chips into Scarface”. theguardian.com.
u/Birdgrape (Aug 17, 2022). “For anyone who was bummed that Kim didn’t do finger guns back, look closer.”. reddit.com.