We’re in the final days of the synchronous national conversation about Breaking Bad. After next week, the production of weekly analyses, heartbreaking videos, and impassioned op-eds will come to an end. Instead of worrying about ego-driven meth kingpins in Albuquerque, we’ll be thinking and writing about bipolar former CIA agents in Virginia, pioneering sex researchers in St. Louis, deluded aristocrats and their chippy servants in Yorkshire, and whatever new thing comes along after that. It’s the circle of TV life.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have one more supersized episode of Breaking Bad before the picture fades to black. And the predictions for what will happen are flying fast and furious. You can even claim credit for your cockamamie theory on a single-purpose blog set up by NPR’s Linda Holmes. So what am I looking forward to on Sunday night?
To being surprised. After years of close readings, predictions, and complaints, for me the days before a series finale are like the “quiet period” before a company goes public: It’s time to shut up and just watch. The show may not be perfect, but Vince Gilligan has earned enough trust for me to let go, let Vince.
What do I want to see? I would love to see Walt suffer, Jesse redeemed, Marie released from her misery, and Holly allowed to leave the house without a woolly hat on her cute little head. But I will take whatever Gilligan gives me—and while I can’t promise that I won’t be back to my old complaining self at 10:15 on Sunday night, I’m not too worried about being let down.
Mostly, I’m looking forward to sharing those final 95 minutes with millions of other Americans. Until then, I’d like to savor the anticipation.
Missing you already,
TODAY IN SLATE
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