BEST TELEVISION EPISODES OF 2010
Overall, this past year was not nearly as strong as 2009. Most of my returning shows were only sporadically good (DEXTER, FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS, I'm looking at you), and the new Fall lineup was about as weak as I’ve ever seen it (minus BOARDWALK EMPIRE and THE WALKING DEAD). Jack Bauer and Jack Shepherd both rode off into the sunset, I finally gave 30 ROCK the boot and kicked THE OFFICE out of its live viewing perch, and if it wasn’t airing on Cable, I was far less likely to have watched it. But there were bright spots as always, and one of these shows had its best season yet, elevating its status amongst the all-time greatest series.
In case you're wondering, here's my judging criteria:
1) Effectiveness as an individual episode (with an emphasis on writing/acting/artistic achievements within the given episode)
2) Effectiveness as a part of a season/series narrative (with an emphasis on writing/acting/artistic achievements fitting into the season/series as a whole)
Also this year I’m dispensing with a ranking system (or a quota of ten), reflecting my dissatisfaction with the year’s output, as it’s pointless to compare apples to oranges. Entries are in alphabetical order by series, with my favorite of the year coming last.
“Half Measures” -- BREAKING BAD (3x12, 6/6/10)
Plot summary: Jesse has an issue with the way Gus is running things. However, although Gus seems to negotiate a fair deal, this isn't the case and when Jesse takes matters into his own hands, Walt has to take drastic action to intervene.
Written by Sam Catlin & Peter Gould. Directed by Adam Bernstein.
Normally I don’t put two episodes from the same series on my best of list, but rules were made to be broken, and “Half Measures” was just too damn awesome to leave off. Featuring not one, but THREE of the calendar year’s most indelible sequences - the gut busting “Windy” montage, Fixer Mike’s riveting monologue on why he’ll always choose a full measure, and the “Holy fucking shit, did I just see that” cliffhanger -- “Half Measures” was anything but.
From Donna Bowman’s review at AV Club:
And so Walter finally takes Mike the Cleaner's advice -- but opposite from what he intended. In the bar Jesse protests that Walter was ready to poison Tuco with ricin -- why not the dealers, then? Walter responds that "Tuco wanted to murder us; these guys don't. Apples and oranges." The plan to murder Tuco enabled them to stay alive and preserve their business. By contrast, "This achieves nothing. It accomplishes nothing." In other words, only provisional measures make sense. Nothing is to be done for its own sake; only to advance some larger end. "Sometimes compromises have to be made for the best of reasons," as Walter hisses to Jesse's voicemail. But Jesse is seeing through the other end of that telescope. Only things that are just and worthwhile in their own right, not as a step on the road to something else, make sense to do. Everything else is a half measure. And when Walter hears on the television that an eleven-year-old boy has become "yet another casualty of this city's ongoing war against drugs and the gangs who sell them," he finally see Jesse's point. It's time to take the advice that Jesse gives to Wendy, to do whatever it takes to protect a son. And this time, to do it in full knowledge and in honesty to one's self about why you're doing it. Saving Jesse even if it means sacrificing the other goals and principles that you'd been treating as ends. Acknowledging that Jesse himself is an end to be protected that trumps all the precious lies you've been telling yourself. Mike wanted Walter to stop taking half measures and acknowledge that Jesse is beyond redemption. Walter, instead, stops taking half-measures in that redemption effort. So that Jesse didn't have to be the murderer, Walter did the murder. It's not just getting home safe; it's doing things right.
Remember where we were at this time last season? Walter by the bedside watching as Jane choked to death. Inaction has become action. And just like that moment last year, Walter's made a choice that will change everything.
“There Is Another Sky”-CAPRICA (1x05, 2/26/10)
Plot summary: Joseph Adama reaches out to his son, while his daughter Tamara finds a new side of the virtual world. Daniel suggests a product for Graystone Industries.
Written by Kath Lingenfelter. Directed by Michael Nankin.
From my full review here:
Hot damn, that was a good one. While being touted as a series game changer (not quite, but almost) “There Is Another Sky” introduced a new aspect to the ever-expanding, ever-fascinating world building going on in this show, while keeping a tight focus on the main emotional fulcrum, namely the ongoing grieving process of Joseph and William Adama. Throw in what may be the most pivotal moment in the downfall of the 12 Colonies as the show’s C-plot, and you’ve got one hell of a show. Kudos to director Michael Nankin, the man behind my favorite single episode of 2009, BATTLESTAR GALACTICA’s incendiary “Sometimes A Great Notion”.
“Peter” - FRINGE (2x16, 4/1/10)
Plot summary: Walter remembers the events in 1985 to Olivia, including how Peter ended up where he is today and what happened to the boy's mother, Elizabeth Bishop.
Written by J.H. Wyman, Jeff Pinkner and Josh Singer. Directed by David Straiton.
After two seasons of putting if off (and to be honest, I just couldn’t add another mythology-intensive show to the brainpan while LOST was still on), I finally caught up with FRINGE on DVD shortly after the third season premiered in the fall. As I had suspected, the first season brought back uncomfortable X-FILES memories, but by the end of the second, the show had finally hit its stride. And even though I knew all the big plot twists in advance, their big info dump “Peter”, which aired midway through Season Two, proved to be a highly potent piece of character development mixed with a heavy, heady, dose of “answers” that helped the show find its focus, and more importantly, its heart, paving the way for a highly entertaining arc to come.
FRINGE CLIP HERE, EMBEDDING DISABLED FOR THIS PIVOTAL SCENE.
From Noel Murray’s review at AV Club:
Quite the full banquet on tonight’s Fringe, huh? Pathos, humor, action, explanations… the show came back with a sense of purpose and surety it’s rarely had, even at its best. In fact, I’d file “Peter” along with the top TV of 2010 so far….
This sets up the chain of events that we’ve known about since last season: Walter-1 stepping across to the other dimension to swipe Peter-2. Only it doesn’t happen in quite so nefarious a fashion. Walter’s intention is only to slip across and leave the stable curative, then slip back, secure in the knowledge that somewhere in the multiverse, a Peter is alive, and loved by a Walter and an Elizabeth. But it all gets bollixed thanks in part to Dr. Warren, who believes in two things: Lord God Almighty, and that there are some lines that scientists should not cross. So while Walter builds a generator-powered dimension-gate and drives it up to his lake house in upstate New York, Dr. Warren tips off Nina Sharp and the two ladies haul ass after him, to stop the experiment. Walter tries to deflect Nina's concerns by insisting that William Bell has been pushing for just this kind of bold move, but Nina’s having none of it, and wrestles with Walter just as he switches his gate on. The result? Nina loses a forearm (sort of), and Walter’s formula-bottle breaks.
So what choice does Walter have? He becomes a Peter-napper, after heartbreakingly promising poor trusting, ignorant Elizabeth-2 that he’ll bring the boy back once he’s cured.
It's those moments of poignant loss that make “Peter” such a strong episode. Mythology-wise, it was significant to see Walter actually breach the barrier between the two worlds, touching off the crisis that both realities find themselves in now. And it was intriguing to hear September, after pulling Walter and Peter-2 out of a frozen lake, tell Walter, “The boy is important. He has to live.” (A statement that will surely have more meaning as the series stretches into Season Three.) But none of that was as powerful as Peter-2 looking at Walter-1 and saying, in a somewhat panicky voice, “You’re not my father, are you?” Or hearing Walter-1 try to reassure Elizabeth by saying of their dead son, “He knew he was loved. Didn’t he?”
“Ab Aeterno” - LOST (6x08, 5/6/10)
Plot summary: Richard Alpert faces a difficult choice.
Teleplay by Melinda Hsu Taylor & Greggory Nations. Directed by Tucker Gates.
From my full review here:
I don’t think it’s too off the mark to see Richard Alpert’s dilemma in “Ab Aeterno” as a sneaky, effective microcosm of both the series’ grand narrative and fans’ increasingly polarized reactions towards it. On one side is Jacob, asking for trust but playing only by his own rules; on the other is The Man in Black, the man without a plan, or an ill thought-out one at best. Caught in the middle is a tired, exhausted man who only wants to believe, but will one day scoff heartily (and hilariously) at such a notion. I know what side I’m with on both sides of the camera, but where do you? Where does Alpert at episode’s end? Does that make him right, but the creators somehow wrong? Or vice versa? What other show demands such questions of it? For me, “Ab Aeterno” marks the third above average episode in a row and one of the highpoints (so far) of the final season. While the past three weeks have all fallen a bit short on concretely conclusive answers, they’ve remained utterly compelling character stories on their own terms, due to and in spite of their “Flashsideways” structure. As the remaining LOST fandom splits over this very narrative issue, I think it’s important to note that their purpose is twofold: they’re funhouse mirrors (distorted, of course) to such classic Season One character intros such as “Walkabout”, “Confidence Man” and “White Rabbit”, and they’re the answer to whatever the outcome of Season Six will be (remember that Fate/Destiny has always been one of the central themes of the show).
“Part Ten” (“Home”) -- THE PACIFIC (1x10, 5/6/10)
Plot summary: The Japanese have finally surrendered. Leckie adjusts to a normal life back at his old job after healing from his wounds at the hospital. Sledge returns home and is reunited once again with his good friend Sidney Phillips. Basilone's family is visited by Lena and an emotional meeting follows.
Written Bruce C. McKenna and Robert Shenkkan. Directed by Jeremy Podeswa.
Overall, I felt THE PACIFIC was much less effective and absorbing than BAND OF BROTHERS, but a second marathon viewing on Blu Ray (where I could finally see everything that was going in the pitch black battle scenes, and also knew what to expect, plot and pacing wise) has helped improved my overall opinion on the mini series. Regardless, Part Ten was the strongest installment of the series both times, a heartbreaking look at the survivors who made it home and their struggles to reintegrate into society. This was like a concentrated version of “The Best Years Of Our Lives” in every way and another showcase for Joseph Mazzello.
From Todd VanderWerff’s review at AVClub.com:
"Part Ten" is slower moving than any other chapter, and it's deliberately contemplative. On its surface, it's a simple story of what these men sacrificed for the betterment of humanity, but there are other things going on as well. If the main character of The Pacific is the Pacific, then this is the first episode where the Pacific barely appears. In a way, it's about how the Pacific is now a part of these men, the way that it infects them, destroying some and sparing others. There's a sight of Leckie's childhood home early in the episode as he approaches it for the first time in years, and it looks almost surreal, a place that doesn't seem like it should exist anymore after so many moments in the grit and grime. We haven't gone through one-thousandth of what these men went through, but we still begin to understand the shock of coming home, of having life slow down again to its normal pace.
I love where the story leaves Leckie and Sledge, how it deposits them gently on the shores of history and leaves them be to the rest of their lives. Watching Leckie talk himself into the newspaper job is a delight, but watching him talk his way into Vera's heart is even better. The final scene with him features him at the dinner table with his contentious family, talking about how he's going to buy a television, now, suddenly, able to ignore his family and their jabs at him, instead joking with Vera, staring deeply into her eyes. They create a unit unto themselves, and you can see how Leckie is going to come out of a life that held lots of trauma up until this point and how he's going to come out of it just fine. The Pacific is a part of Leckie, but it's a part that showed him what he was capable of, and others see that reflected in him.
It's harder for Sledge. It's always harder for Sledge.
Coming home from the front with his friends, Sledge is amazed at how quickly the country's other citizens have forgotten what he and his buddies gave up for them. Quietly, his friends leave him (and the scene where Snafu leaves but doesn't even wake him up to say goodbye is devastating), and then he's in a Mobile where everyone else is working to move on - Sid, in fact, is marrying the prettiest girl in town - and yet he simply cannot. We leave Sledge after he's only begun to heal, after he collapses to the ground and has to feel his father's arms around him before he can begin to release the pain of what he saw and who he became. He lifts a flower up to blot out the sun as he lays in a meadow, but the sun's glare is always present. You can try to cover up the stain of the past as best you can, but it will always be there. These things have a way of coming out.
“Star Wars Episode III” - ROBOT CHICKEN (12/19/10)
Written by Mike Fasolo, Douglas Goldstein, Seth Green, Tom Root, Matthew Senreich. Directed by Chris McKay and Seth Green.
Sheer hilarity, and what sealed the deal was watching the anemic “It’s A Trap” flounder about with some of the exact same material AND jokes the following week.
From Blair Marnell's review at CraveOnline.com:
The last two "Robot Chicken: Star Wars" specials were both some of the most entertaining spoofs of the franchise to emerge in years. Therefore, it shouldn't be a surprise that the third installment manages to live up to its predecessors and make the "Star Wars" jokes look easy. So, why does this show work so well and the recently released "Family Guy: It's A Trap!" fail so miserably?
For starters, it's not trying to be "Star Wars" with "Family Guy" crammed into it. And although the characters are more broadly comedic here, "Robot Chicken" is actually closer to the spirit of the source material without being subservient to it. While "Family Guy" seemingly held back its punches, "Robot Chicken" appears to have actually gone for the throat and created an unexpectedly ambitious show.
Unlike the previous specials, there's a narrative throughout the hour that follows the Emperor, Darth Vader, Boba Fett and Gary, the Stormtrooper who once took his daughter to work in a previous "Robot Chicken" episode. Even with the slight break in format, the episode retains its fairly quick comedy sketches. To a certain extent, it's still an A.D.D. show, but most of the jokes hit and its pretty hilarious all the way through.
"Family Guy's" Seth MacFarlane actually delivers the standout performance as the perpetually grumpy Emperor and even gets his own musical number about the 65 orders that came before the Jedi killing "Order 66."
“NS” - SONS OF ANARCHY (3x13, 11/30/10)
Plot summary: Both the ATF and the Russians prove obstacles as the club looks to heal old wounds.
Written by Kurt Sutter and Dave Erickson. Directed by Kurt Sutter.
Like most SOA fans, I felt the Charter’s Ireland vacation was one of disappointment and missed opportunities (but I have a feeling we’ll be eating those words at some point), but was nonetheless thrilled by the twisty, fulfilling antics in “NS”. Sure, there was a major narrative omission to be had, but that’s what made the episode so shocking to begin with. Regardless, Sutter’s finale left fans truly excited about the new year - a minor miracle considering the large amount of dissent Belfast left in the first place.
From Janie Logan’s review at Monster & Critics:
After a season that took SAMCRO to Ireland and back, the finale served as a bookend, with Jax laying his "NS" ring on his fathers headstone next to the "SO" he left there in the premiere. It marked the completion of his journey to find Abel, and the end of his soul-searching about the direction of the club, at least for the time being.
"I'm done listening to dead men," he declared in "Bainne", after learning that his father was not quite the heroic idealist he had built him up to be.
"NS" was a very satisfying episode, both emotionally and narratively, and did much to lessen the sense of restlessness many viewers felt this season. Between Stahl, Father Ashby, and Jimmy O, the Sons were manipulated and thwarted at every turn. No one could argue that Kurt Sutter and the writers were just arbitrarily throwing challenges at Jax and the club for the sake of tension.
On the contrary, they were perhaps too ambitious in stretching out the story to expand on the background of the Sons and their Irish history. So many characters were introduced from the Belfast charter and the IRA that it was difficult to become invested in them (although the iPhone app goes a long way towards filling in little gaps--a must-have for any Apple user/SOA fan).
But as Sutter explains, it was important to take the guys out of Charming and deepen the show's mythology. Based on the finale, I can see what he means by that, and I think that the so-called "unevenness" of Season 3 will be diminished in hindsight. Everything that happened has already taken effect on Jax and his relationships, with his family and with his club. That character development really grounded the storytelling this year, and Charlie Hunnam did his best work of the entire series.
“Kill Them All” -- SPARTACUS BLOOD AND SAND (1x13, 4/16/10)
Plot summary: Spartacus and Crixus are to battle at the ludus for the well-to-do of Capua. Bent on revenge, Spartacus enlists help for an uprising, but there is one man who can stop him.
Written by Steven S. DeKnight. Directed by Jesse Warn.
Yup. Pretty much what this guy says below:
From Rob Vaux’s review at Mania.com
If you had told me when Spartacus began in January that the season finale would constitute a high point in television viewing this year, I would have called you mad. The fact that the very same finale is so good when the original season premiere was so staggeringly, jaw-droppingly bad constitutes a minor miracle of the sort unseen in modern years. How did they do it? Nothing in the overall tone has changed; the sex and violence remain as gratuitous and exploitative as ever. And yet somewhere along the line, Spartacus found a genuine dramatic soul -- sucking me in no matter how hard I fought and leaving me cheering like a deranged football booster at the richly satisfying climax to a wild opening season.
[…] For the first half-hour, Spartacus searches for some way to turn his mortal enemy into his closest ally. Crixus balks, right through his poisoning and straight into their battle to the death in the ludus arena. The tension stays high, to the point where you wonder if they're ever going to let it break. Then, at almost the perfect halfway point, a vital shift takes place… and the rumble is on.
The resulting tsunami of CGI gore contains all of the guilty pleasures a bloodthirsty fan could want. It uses pure unfiltered button pushing to channel our emotions, trundling out every hateful two-faced Roman we've come to despite before dishing out rich, meaty chunks of well-deserved comeuppance. As an Ancient world variation on Death Wish, it attains a visceral emotional punch which sends the higher echelons of our brain on permanent vacation. We want these people dead just as much as Spartacus does, and while we can see how readily the show manipulates us, it just feels so good to watch them all get slaughtered like hogs.
A few stragglers escape--I daren't say who, though they'll be hard pressed to maintain their Machiavellian standards with such thinned ranks--but Warn ensures they squirm like live bait before finally attaining a measure of safety. The remainder serve as fodder for the butcher's shop…which ironically feels less exploitative than previous episodes. "Kill Them All" revels in the generalities, but not the specifics, holding the shock-and-awe moments in reserve and contenting itself simply with the quantity of kills rather than the quality. The single sex scene too, stays comparatively modest, as Spartacus finally consummates with Mira (Katrina Law) in order to win her vital aid. The key word is "comparative" of course--this is not a subtle show--but you could remove almost all the blood and guts, and still have a good story underneath. Spartacus labored long and hard to learn that particular trick.
“Guts” -- THE WALKING DEAD (1x02, 11/07/10)
Plot summary: Due to his gun-toting arrival in Atlanta, Rick causes a group of survivors to be trapped by walkers. The group dynamic devolves from accusations to violence, as Rick must confront an enemy that is far more dangerous than the walkers themselves.
Written by Frank Darabont. Directed by Michelle MacLaren.
From my full review here:
Well, that just put a big smile on my face, especially seeing as how some of the pre-season reviews indicated a big downshift in quality between Episodes 1 and 2. And from a certain point of view, I could see that criticism; but the true malleability and longevity of the zombie genre lies in its uncanny ability to cross and mix genre lines, to be equally scary and silly, profound and satirical, contemplative and unrelenting, and often all of those tones at once. Put another way, if “Days Gone Bye” essayed the creeping terror and claustrophobic nature of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, then “Guts” was a reflection of DAWN OF THE DEAD, a rollicking adventure played out on a bigger scale and laser focused on one simple motivating desire: escape.
And the best television episode of 2010 was (no surprise or serious challengers):
“One Minute” -- BREAKING BAD (3x07, 5/6/10)
Plot summary: Hank's increasing volatility forces a confrontation with Jesse and trouble at work. Skyler pressures Walt to make a deal. Gus' actions have severe consequences.
Written by Thomas Schnauz. Directed by Michelle MacLaren.
As awesome as “Half Measures” was, double that, and you have “One Minute”, a peerlessly acted and paced installment of a now all-time classic television series. And as with last year’s #1, I knew without a doubt that this was probably going to be my favorite show of the year as soon as it finished airing. The fact that “Half Measures” (and parts of “Full Measures”) came so close to matching its quality also help propel and keep BREAKING BAD as my favorite series of the year -- no other show even came remotely close.
It’s going to be a looong wait until next July….
From my full review here:
Once again, the cumulative weight of a multi-year show paid off in spades in this episode. At first, Hank was introduced as the stereotypical loutish macho law enforcement agent, all bluster, no bite. But as Season Two progressed, we got to see more and more shades to the man, as the show drew eerie parallels to his and Walt’s journeys Hank’s façade (and it is one, no doubt) and sense of self image has been stripped away and re-changed just as much as Walt’s has (and the irony is of course that it’s all because of Walt); and in some sense, the events of “One Minute” are a relief, as he no longer has to hide the torment he’s been undergoing by being forced to deal with it directly.
[…] “One Minute” was enough to change the life of all the characters this week, and it was an episode that firing on all cylinders during every scene, something we’re not privileged to see very often on episodic TV. In fact, the last two episodes I saw that had this sort of unrelenting intensity were BATTLESTAR GALACTICA’s “The Oath” and SONS OF ANARCHY’s “Service”. Three classic series, three classic episodes, two classic bald bad asses.
From Alan Sepinwall’s review at What’s Alan Watching
Um...
uh...
um...
WOW.
Sorry, just need another minute to pick my jaw up off the floor after that.
What an incredible, bananas finish to the strongest episode yet of this third season. As written by "Breaking Bad" newcomer Thomas Schnauz (another of many "X-Files" vets Vince Gilligan has brought in) and directed by Michelle MacLaren (who joined the staff full-time after last season's gorgeous "4 Days Out"), the parking lot climax was a perfect model of suspense filmmaking. We'd already been primed all episode to fear that the Cousins could hit Hank at any moment (every time the elevator doors opened, I know I gripped my armrest), but then to have someone(*) warn Hank ahead of time kicked things up several levels. Suddenly, we and Hank were in the same mindset, looking around every corner, jumping at shadows (and/or men with squeegees), waiting for the two men to come and wondering if an unarmed Hank possibly had a chance against those two unrelenting figures of death.
[…] But here's the thing: even without those crazy final minutes, "One Minute" still would have been one of the best "Breaking Bad"s to date.
What an amazing showcase for both Aaron Paul (who seems a lock to repeat his Emmy nomination next year, and possibly to win it if he submits this episode) and Dean Norris (who sure deserves to join Paul, but may not in what's always a crowded category).
From Donna Bowman’s review at AVClub.com
Perhaps the tension in "One Minute" was heightened for me by the fact that I watched it while the tornado sirens were blaring in my town and funnel clouds were being reported all around us. But I doubt you needed the threat of imminent natural disaster for this episode to put you on edge. As was presaged in "Sunset" last week, Hank takes center stage as the Cousins' target, and Walt and Jesse rejoin forces. That summary, though, does not justice to the explosive way these plot developments are handled. What continues to amaze about Breaking Bad is that it's both the journey and the destination. (Did any of you predict that one of the cousins would be taken out of action* by the end of the hour this week? Do any of you think that's the most important thing we learned?)
Seasons One and Two of this show were such potent explorations of existential dread that it seemed unlikely the mood could be sustained into different circumstances. Yet here I am whispering "oh no!" as events unfold on the screen, terrified as much of the psychological places the show is taking me as of the violence that's lurking around every corner.
From Tim Goodman’s review at SFGate
In one of those episodes that is simultaneously insular in its machinations and outsized in its breathtaking violence, "Breaking Bad" delivered one of its greatest hours on Sunday.
No doubt the "one minute" from the title - which slowly built up with tension and exploded with Hank and the Cousins in a death match, is what most people have on their minds. And indeed it's hard to think of anything else after seeing it. But all the interior elements were equally impressive as well, from the expansion of Hank's character (not only a self-realization of what he'd become but him honestly admitting his fears to Marie), to Jesse's verbal take-down of Walt in the hospital. Beyond those scenes, we got Walt and Jesse reunited and Gale removed from the lab, though some loose strings might be left there. And yet, for all of those keen developments, once again the thing that seemed so intricately detailed and beautifully shot was the color combinations in this episode. Seriously, from blue to purple (lots of purple) and onto black, this whole episode was saturated. Like a bruise.
From Ken Tucker’s review at EW.com
Last night’s Breaking Bad was more explosive than an RV meth-lab driving into a burning building. It was also one of the most beautiful-looking hours on TV this season.
The pre-credits sequence, in which we saw a flashback to the murderous cousins who’ve been tracking Bryan Cranston’s Walt as little boys, was a sun-flare bright sequence that set up the origin of these two, with Tuco Salamanca uttering the words that guided their present-day revenge quest: “Family is all.” So it is with Walt and his brother-in-law, Hank (the superlative Dean Norris).
This amazing episode, written by X-Files vet Thomas Schnauz, had major scenes for every major character. Just think of the early scene, with Jesse lying in his hospital bed, flanked by lawyer Saul (Bob Odenkirk) and Walt. The sustained vituperation let loose by Jesse, the fury mixed with anguish as he noted that, in a twisted-logic way, Walt has been responsible for every bad thing that’s happened to Jesse since they’ve met, was a bravura piece of acting and writing. (Note to Aaron Paul: Be sure to submit this scene for Emmy consideration.)
From Myles McNutt’s lengthy review at Cultural Learnings:
However, it was an episode that features some really fantastic dramatic acting from Dean Norris and Aaron Paul, who at this point are in a duel over who most deserves the Supporting Actor Emmy. In the case of Paul, the character only had two big scenes in the episode, but they were absolutely bloody fantastic ones - while Jesse doesn’t have a substantial narrative in the episode, we get two very different responses to his current situation as a result of Hank’s episode-opening decision to beat the living crap out of him. The first is pure anger and defiance, believing that Hank deserves to pay for what he’s done and that this only strengthens his resolve to keep cooking and to prove himself. However, the second scene (as Walt returns later to cut him into his gig with Gus) is a very different Jesse: he is still angry, but he is angry about his state in life, angry that ever since he started this journey he has lost everything that has mattered to him (his family, his friends, Jane, etc.). The Jesse we’ve seen to this point in the season has been cold and detached, sober but also resisting any sort of human connection: this is, I believe, what he thought it meant to be the bad guy, how he was supposed to succeed in his chosen (or determined, if you accept his argument) way of life. But in that second scene he is a damaged twenty-something left treading water as all remnants of his past life float face down, and Paul absolutely nails all of those intense emotions boiling to the surface. They’re two of the best scenes he’s done on the show, and are certainly Emmy worthy.
At the end of the day, though, I think I’m officially on “Team Dean” in this particular horse race. While I kept switching back and forth between the two actors as the hour went on, I’m still shocked at how what seemed like an unnecessary character in the first season has developed into someone both more sympathetic and more tragic than Walt has ever been. Norris wasn’t asked to do much early on, but in the wake of the chaos in El Paso he has absolutely been up to the task of fleshing out Hank as a man whose life was turned upside down by an event he still doesn’t entirely understand. Just as the episode sets up that everything is going right for Hank before we realize he’s about to be attacked by the Cousins, Tuco’s shooting tricked Hank into believing that life was about to get better before he realized that it was all a lie. Norris is not a flashy actor, but his pure anger in the opening scenes is so wonderfully contrasted with his breakdown in the elevator, or with the steely resolve he shows as he accepts his actions, finally admitting to Marie that he has been gripped by panic attacks since El Paso. His life has been unraveling, all the result of Walt pulling a thread out of the sweater that was his life, and Norris has been remarkable at drawing us into this character’s head when we thought it was empty when the series began.
In case you're wondering, here's my judging criteria:
1) Effectiveness as an individual episode (with an emphasis on writing/acting/artistic achievements within the given episode)
2) Effectiveness as a part of a season/series narrative (with an emphasis on writing/acting/artistic achievements fitting into the season/series as a whole)
Also this year I’m dispensing with a ranking system (or a quota of ten), reflecting my dissatisfaction with the year’s output, as it’s pointless to compare apples to oranges. Entries are in alphabetical order by series, with my favorite of the year coming last.
“Half Measures” -- BREAKING BAD (3x12, 6/6/10)
Plot summary: Jesse has an issue with the way Gus is running things. However, although Gus seems to negotiate a fair deal, this isn't the case and when Jesse takes matters into his own hands, Walt has to take drastic action to intervene.
Written by Sam Catlin & Peter Gould. Directed by Adam Bernstein.
Normally I don’t put two episodes from the same series on my best of list, but rules were made to be broken, and “Half Measures” was just too damn awesome to leave off. Featuring not one, but THREE of the calendar year’s most indelible sequences - the gut busting “Windy” montage, Fixer Mike’s riveting monologue on why he’ll always choose a full measure, and the “Holy fucking shit, did I just see that” cliffhanger -- “Half Measures” was anything but.
From Donna Bowman’s review at AV Club:
And so Walter finally takes Mike the Cleaner's advice -- but opposite from what he intended. In the bar Jesse protests that Walter was ready to poison Tuco with ricin -- why not the dealers, then? Walter responds that "Tuco wanted to murder us; these guys don't. Apples and oranges." The plan to murder Tuco enabled them to stay alive and preserve their business. By contrast, "This achieves nothing. It accomplishes nothing." In other words, only provisional measures make sense. Nothing is to be done for its own sake; only to advance some larger end. "Sometimes compromises have to be made for the best of reasons," as Walter hisses to Jesse's voicemail. But Jesse is seeing through the other end of that telescope. Only things that are just and worthwhile in their own right, not as a step on the road to something else, make sense to do. Everything else is a half measure. And when Walter hears on the television that an eleven-year-old boy has become "yet another casualty of this city's ongoing war against drugs and the gangs who sell them," he finally see Jesse's point. It's time to take the advice that Jesse gives to Wendy, to do whatever it takes to protect a son. And this time, to do it in full knowledge and in honesty to one's self about why you're doing it. Saving Jesse even if it means sacrificing the other goals and principles that you'd been treating as ends. Acknowledging that Jesse himself is an end to be protected that trumps all the precious lies you've been telling yourself. Mike wanted Walter to stop taking half measures and acknowledge that Jesse is beyond redemption. Walter, instead, stops taking half-measures in that redemption effort. So that Jesse didn't have to be the murderer, Walter did the murder. It's not just getting home safe; it's doing things right.
Remember where we were at this time last season? Walter by the bedside watching as Jane choked to death. Inaction has become action. And just like that moment last year, Walter's made a choice that will change everything.
Click to view“There Is Another Sky”-CAPRICA (1x05, 2/26/10)
Plot summary: Joseph Adama reaches out to his son, while his daughter Tamara finds a new side of the virtual world. Daniel suggests a product for Graystone Industries.
Written by Kath Lingenfelter. Directed by Michael Nankin.
From my full review here:
Hot damn, that was a good one. While being touted as a series game changer (not quite, but almost) “There Is Another Sky” introduced a new aspect to the ever-expanding, ever-fascinating world building going on in this show, while keeping a tight focus on the main emotional fulcrum, namely the ongoing grieving process of Joseph and William Adama. Throw in what may be the most pivotal moment in the downfall of the 12 Colonies as the show’s C-plot, and you’ve got one hell of a show. Kudos to director Michael Nankin, the man behind my favorite single episode of 2009, BATTLESTAR GALACTICA’s incendiary “Sometimes A Great Notion”.
“Peter” - FRINGE (2x16, 4/1/10)
Plot summary: Walter remembers the events in 1985 to Olivia, including how Peter ended up where he is today and what happened to the boy's mother, Elizabeth Bishop.
Written by J.H. Wyman, Jeff Pinkner and Josh Singer. Directed by David Straiton.
After two seasons of putting if off (and to be honest, I just couldn’t add another mythology-intensive show to the brainpan while LOST was still on), I finally caught up with FRINGE on DVD shortly after the third season premiered in the fall. As I had suspected, the first season brought back uncomfortable X-FILES memories, but by the end of the second, the show had finally hit its stride. And even though I knew all the big plot twists in advance, their big info dump “Peter”, which aired midway through Season Two, proved to be a highly potent piece of character development mixed with a heavy, heady, dose of “answers” that helped the show find its focus, and more importantly, its heart, paving the way for a highly entertaining arc to come.
FRINGE CLIP HERE, EMBEDDING DISABLED FOR THIS PIVOTAL SCENE.
From Noel Murray’s review at AV Club:
Quite the full banquet on tonight’s Fringe, huh? Pathos, humor, action, explanations… the show came back with a sense of purpose and surety it’s rarely had, even at its best. In fact, I’d file “Peter” along with the top TV of 2010 so far….
This sets up the chain of events that we’ve known about since last season: Walter-1 stepping across to the other dimension to swipe Peter-2. Only it doesn’t happen in quite so nefarious a fashion. Walter’s intention is only to slip across and leave the stable curative, then slip back, secure in the knowledge that somewhere in the multiverse, a Peter is alive, and loved by a Walter and an Elizabeth. But it all gets bollixed thanks in part to Dr. Warren, who believes in two things: Lord God Almighty, and that there are some lines that scientists should not cross. So while Walter builds a generator-powered dimension-gate and drives it up to his lake house in upstate New York, Dr. Warren tips off Nina Sharp and the two ladies haul ass after him, to stop the experiment. Walter tries to deflect Nina's concerns by insisting that William Bell has been pushing for just this kind of bold move, but Nina’s having none of it, and wrestles with Walter just as he switches his gate on. The result? Nina loses a forearm (sort of), and Walter’s formula-bottle breaks.
So what choice does Walter have? He becomes a Peter-napper, after heartbreakingly promising poor trusting, ignorant Elizabeth-2 that he’ll bring the boy back once he’s cured.
It's those moments of poignant loss that make “Peter” such a strong episode. Mythology-wise, it was significant to see Walter actually breach the barrier between the two worlds, touching off the crisis that both realities find themselves in now. And it was intriguing to hear September, after pulling Walter and Peter-2 out of a frozen lake, tell Walter, “The boy is important. He has to live.” (A statement that will surely have more meaning as the series stretches into Season Three.) But none of that was as powerful as Peter-2 looking at Walter-1 and saying, in a somewhat panicky voice, “You’re not my father, are you?” Or hearing Walter-1 try to reassure Elizabeth by saying of their dead son, “He knew he was loved. Didn’t he?”
“Ab Aeterno” - LOST (6x08, 5/6/10)
Plot summary: Richard Alpert faces a difficult choice.
Teleplay by Melinda Hsu Taylor & Greggory Nations. Directed by Tucker Gates.
From my full review here:
I don’t think it’s too off the mark to see Richard Alpert’s dilemma in “Ab Aeterno” as a sneaky, effective microcosm of both the series’ grand narrative and fans’ increasingly polarized reactions towards it. On one side is Jacob, asking for trust but playing only by his own rules; on the other is The Man in Black, the man without a plan, or an ill thought-out one at best. Caught in the middle is a tired, exhausted man who only wants to believe, but will one day scoff heartily (and hilariously) at such a notion. I know what side I’m with on both sides of the camera, but where do you? Where does Alpert at episode’s end? Does that make him right, but the creators somehow wrong? Or vice versa? What other show demands such questions of it? For me, “Ab Aeterno” marks the third above average episode in a row and one of the highpoints (so far) of the final season. While the past three weeks have all fallen a bit short on concretely conclusive answers, they’ve remained utterly compelling character stories on their own terms, due to and in spite of their “Flashsideways” structure. As the remaining LOST fandom splits over this very narrative issue, I think it’s important to note that their purpose is twofold: they’re funhouse mirrors (distorted, of course) to such classic Season One character intros such as “Walkabout”, “Confidence Man” and “White Rabbit”, and they’re the answer to whatever the outcome of Season Six will be (remember that Fate/Destiny has always been one of the central themes of the show).
“Part Ten” (“Home”) -- THE PACIFIC (1x10, 5/6/10)
Plot summary: The Japanese have finally surrendered. Leckie adjusts to a normal life back at his old job after healing from his wounds at the hospital. Sledge returns home and is reunited once again with his good friend Sidney Phillips. Basilone's family is visited by Lena and an emotional meeting follows.
Written Bruce C. McKenna and Robert Shenkkan. Directed by Jeremy Podeswa.
Overall, I felt THE PACIFIC was much less effective and absorbing than BAND OF BROTHERS, but a second marathon viewing on Blu Ray (where I could finally see everything that was going in the pitch black battle scenes, and also knew what to expect, plot and pacing wise) has helped improved my overall opinion on the mini series. Regardless, Part Ten was the strongest installment of the series both times, a heartbreaking look at the survivors who made it home and their struggles to reintegrate into society. This was like a concentrated version of “The Best Years Of Our Lives” in every way and another showcase for Joseph Mazzello.
From Todd VanderWerff’s review at AVClub.com:
"Part Ten" is slower moving than any other chapter, and it's deliberately contemplative. On its surface, it's a simple story of what these men sacrificed for the betterment of humanity, but there are other things going on as well. If the main character of The Pacific is the Pacific, then this is the first episode where the Pacific barely appears. In a way, it's about how the Pacific is now a part of these men, the way that it infects them, destroying some and sparing others. There's a sight of Leckie's childhood home early in the episode as he approaches it for the first time in years, and it looks almost surreal, a place that doesn't seem like it should exist anymore after so many moments in the grit and grime. We haven't gone through one-thousandth of what these men went through, but we still begin to understand the shock of coming home, of having life slow down again to its normal pace.
I love where the story leaves Leckie and Sledge, how it deposits them gently on the shores of history and leaves them be to the rest of their lives. Watching Leckie talk himself into the newspaper job is a delight, but watching him talk his way into Vera's heart is even better. The final scene with him features him at the dinner table with his contentious family, talking about how he's going to buy a television, now, suddenly, able to ignore his family and their jabs at him, instead joking with Vera, staring deeply into her eyes. They create a unit unto themselves, and you can see how Leckie is going to come out of a life that held lots of trauma up until this point and how he's going to come out of it just fine. The Pacific is a part of Leckie, but it's a part that showed him what he was capable of, and others see that reflected in him.
It's harder for Sledge. It's always harder for Sledge.
Coming home from the front with his friends, Sledge is amazed at how quickly the country's other citizens have forgotten what he and his buddies gave up for them. Quietly, his friends leave him (and the scene where Snafu leaves but doesn't even wake him up to say goodbye is devastating), and then he's in a Mobile where everyone else is working to move on - Sid, in fact, is marrying the prettiest girl in town - and yet he simply cannot. We leave Sledge after he's only begun to heal, after he collapses to the ground and has to feel his father's arms around him before he can begin to release the pain of what he saw and who he became. He lifts a flower up to blot out the sun as he lays in a meadow, but the sun's glare is always present. You can try to cover up the stain of the past as best you can, but it will always be there. These things have a way of coming out.
“Star Wars Episode III” - ROBOT CHICKEN (12/19/10)
Written by Mike Fasolo, Douglas Goldstein, Seth Green, Tom Root, Matthew Senreich. Directed by Chris McKay and Seth Green.
Sheer hilarity, and what sealed the deal was watching the anemic “It’s A Trap” flounder about with some of the exact same material AND jokes the following week.
From Blair Marnell's review at CraveOnline.com:
The last two "Robot Chicken: Star Wars" specials were both some of the most entertaining spoofs of the franchise to emerge in years. Therefore, it shouldn't be a surprise that the third installment manages to live up to its predecessors and make the "Star Wars" jokes look easy. So, why does this show work so well and the recently released "Family Guy: It's A Trap!" fail so miserably?
For starters, it's not trying to be "Star Wars" with "Family Guy" crammed into it. And although the characters are more broadly comedic here, "Robot Chicken" is actually closer to the spirit of the source material without being subservient to it. While "Family Guy" seemingly held back its punches, "Robot Chicken" appears to have actually gone for the throat and created an unexpectedly ambitious show.
Unlike the previous specials, there's a narrative throughout the hour that follows the Emperor, Darth Vader, Boba Fett and Gary, the Stormtrooper who once took his daughter to work in a previous "Robot Chicken" episode. Even with the slight break in format, the episode retains its fairly quick comedy sketches. To a certain extent, it's still an A.D.D. show, but most of the jokes hit and its pretty hilarious all the way through.
"Family Guy's" Seth MacFarlane actually delivers the standout performance as the perpetually grumpy Emperor and even gets his own musical number about the 65 orders that came before the Jedi killing "Order 66."
“NS” - SONS OF ANARCHY (3x13, 11/30/10)
Plot summary: Both the ATF and the Russians prove obstacles as the club looks to heal old wounds.
Written by Kurt Sutter and Dave Erickson. Directed by Kurt Sutter.
Like most SOA fans, I felt the Charter’s Ireland vacation was one of disappointment and missed opportunities (but I have a feeling we’ll be eating those words at some point), but was nonetheless thrilled by the twisty, fulfilling antics in “NS”. Sure, there was a major narrative omission to be had, but that’s what made the episode so shocking to begin with. Regardless, Sutter’s finale left fans truly excited about the new year - a minor miracle considering the large amount of dissent Belfast left in the first place.
From Janie Logan’s review at Monster & Critics:
After a season that took SAMCRO to Ireland and back, the finale served as a bookend, with Jax laying his "NS" ring on his fathers headstone next to the "SO" he left there in the premiere. It marked the completion of his journey to find Abel, and the end of his soul-searching about the direction of the club, at least for the time being.
"I'm done listening to dead men," he declared in "Bainne", after learning that his father was not quite the heroic idealist he had built him up to be.
"NS" was a very satisfying episode, both emotionally and narratively, and did much to lessen the sense of restlessness many viewers felt this season. Between Stahl, Father Ashby, and Jimmy O, the Sons were manipulated and thwarted at every turn. No one could argue that Kurt Sutter and the writers were just arbitrarily throwing challenges at Jax and the club for the sake of tension.
On the contrary, they were perhaps too ambitious in stretching out the story to expand on the background of the Sons and their Irish history. So many characters were introduced from the Belfast charter and the IRA that it was difficult to become invested in them (although the iPhone app goes a long way towards filling in little gaps--a must-have for any Apple user/SOA fan).
But as Sutter explains, it was important to take the guys out of Charming and deepen the show's mythology. Based on the finale, I can see what he means by that, and I think that the so-called "unevenness" of Season 3 will be diminished in hindsight. Everything that happened has already taken effect on Jax and his relationships, with his family and with his club. That character development really grounded the storytelling this year, and Charlie Hunnam did his best work of the entire series.
“Kill Them All” -- SPARTACUS BLOOD AND SAND (1x13, 4/16/10)
Plot summary: Spartacus and Crixus are to battle at the ludus for the well-to-do of Capua. Bent on revenge, Spartacus enlists help for an uprising, but there is one man who can stop him.
Written by Steven S. DeKnight. Directed by Jesse Warn.
Yup. Pretty much what this guy says below:
From Rob Vaux’s review at Mania.com
If you had told me when Spartacus began in January that the season finale would constitute a high point in television viewing this year, I would have called you mad. The fact that the very same finale is so good when the original season premiere was so staggeringly, jaw-droppingly bad constitutes a minor miracle of the sort unseen in modern years. How did they do it? Nothing in the overall tone has changed; the sex and violence remain as gratuitous and exploitative as ever. And yet somewhere along the line, Spartacus found a genuine dramatic soul -- sucking me in no matter how hard I fought and leaving me cheering like a deranged football booster at the richly satisfying climax to a wild opening season.
[…] For the first half-hour, Spartacus searches for some way to turn his mortal enemy into his closest ally. Crixus balks, right through his poisoning and straight into their battle to the death in the ludus arena. The tension stays high, to the point where you wonder if they're ever going to let it break. Then, at almost the perfect halfway point, a vital shift takes place… and the rumble is on.
The resulting tsunami of CGI gore contains all of the guilty pleasures a bloodthirsty fan could want. It uses pure unfiltered button pushing to channel our emotions, trundling out every hateful two-faced Roman we've come to despite before dishing out rich, meaty chunks of well-deserved comeuppance. As an Ancient world variation on Death Wish, it attains a visceral emotional punch which sends the higher echelons of our brain on permanent vacation. We want these people dead just as much as Spartacus does, and while we can see how readily the show manipulates us, it just feels so good to watch them all get slaughtered like hogs.
A few stragglers escape--I daren't say who, though they'll be hard pressed to maintain their Machiavellian standards with such thinned ranks--but Warn ensures they squirm like live bait before finally attaining a measure of safety. The remainder serve as fodder for the butcher's shop…which ironically feels less exploitative than previous episodes. "Kill Them All" revels in the generalities, but not the specifics, holding the shock-and-awe moments in reserve and contenting itself simply with the quantity of kills rather than the quality. The single sex scene too, stays comparatively modest, as Spartacus finally consummates with Mira (Katrina Law) in order to win her vital aid. The key word is "comparative" of course--this is not a subtle show--but you could remove almost all the blood and guts, and still have a good story underneath. Spartacus labored long and hard to learn that particular trick.
“Guts” -- THE WALKING DEAD (1x02, 11/07/10)
Plot summary: Due to his gun-toting arrival in Atlanta, Rick causes a group of survivors to be trapped by walkers. The group dynamic devolves from accusations to violence, as Rick must confront an enemy that is far more dangerous than the walkers themselves.
Written by Frank Darabont. Directed by Michelle MacLaren.
From my full review here:
Well, that just put a big smile on my face, especially seeing as how some of the pre-season reviews indicated a big downshift in quality between Episodes 1 and 2. And from a certain point of view, I could see that criticism; but the true malleability and longevity of the zombie genre lies in its uncanny ability to cross and mix genre lines, to be equally scary and silly, profound and satirical, contemplative and unrelenting, and often all of those tones at once. Put another way, if “Days Gone Bye” essayed the creeping terror and claustrophobic nature of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, then “Guts” was a reflection of DAWN OF THE DEAD, a rollicking adventure played out on a bigger scale and laser focused on one simple motivating desire: escape.
And the best television episode of 2010 was (no surprise or serious challengers):
“One Minute” -- BREAKING BAD (3x07, 5/6/10)
Plot summary: Hank's increasing volatility forces a confrontation with Jesse and trouble at work. Skyler pressures Walt to make a deal. Gus' actions have severe consequences.
Written by Thomas Schnauz. Directed by Michelle MacLaren.
As awesome as “Half Measures” was, double that, and you have “One Minute”, a peerlessly acted and paced installment of a now all-time classic television series. And as with last year’s #1, I knew without a doubt that this was probably going to be my favorite show of the year as soon as it finished airing. The fact that “Half Measures” (and parts of “Full Measures”) came so close to matching its quality also help propel and keep BREAKING BAD as my favorite series of the year -- no other show even came remotely close.
It’s going to be a looong wait until next July….
From my full review here:
Once again, the cumulative weight of a multi-year show paid off in spades in this episode. At first, Hank was introduced as the stereotypical loutish macho law enforcement agent, all bluster, no bite. But as Season Two progressed, we got to see more and more shades to the man, as the show drew eerie parallels to his and Walt’s journeys Hank’s façade (and it is one, no doubt) and sense of self image has been stripped away and re-changed just as much as Walt’s has (and the irony is of course that it’s all because of Walt); and in some sense, the events of “One Minute” are a relief, as he no longer has to hide the torment he’s been undergoing by being forced to deal with it directly.
[…] “One Minute” was enough to change the life of all the characters this week, and it was an episode that firing on all cylinders during every scene, something we’re not privileged to see very often on episodic TV. In fact, the last two episodes I saw that had this sort of unrelenting intensity were BATTLESTAR GALACTICA’s “The Oath” and SONS OF ANARCHY’s “Service”. Three classic series, three classic episodes, two classic bald bad asses.
From Alan Sepinwall’s review at What’s Alan Watching
Um...
uh...
um...
WOW.
Sorry, just need another minute to pick my jaw up off the floor after that.
What an incredible, bananas finish to the strongest episode yet of this third season. As written by "Breaking Bad" newcomer Thomas Schnauz (another of many "X-Files" vets Vince Gilligan has brought in) and directed by Michelle MacLaren (who joined the staff full-time after last season's gorgeous "4 Days Out"), the parking lot climax was a perfect model of suspense filmmaking. We'd already been primed all episode to fear that the Cousins could hit Hank at any moment (every time the elevator doors opened, I know I gripped my armrest), but then to have someone(*) warn Hank ahead of time kicked things up several levels. Suddenly, we and Hank were in the same mindset, looking around every corner, jumping at shadows (and/or men with squeegees), waiting for the two men to come and wondering if an unarmed Hank possibly had a chance against those two unrelenting figures of death.
[…] But here's the thing: even without those crazy final minutes, "One Minute" still would have been one of the best "Breaking Bad"s to date.
What an amazing showcase for both Aaron Paul (who seems a lock to repeat his Emmy nomination next year, and possibly to win it if he submits this episode) and Dean Norris (who sure deserves to join Paul, but may not in what's always a crowded category).
From Donna Bowman’s review at AVClub.com
Perhaps the tension in "One Minute" was heightened for me by the fact that I watched it while the tornado sirens were blaring in my town and funnel clouds were being reported all around us. But I doubt you needed the threat of imminent natural disaster for this episode to put you on edge. As was presaged in "Sunset" last week, Hank takes center stage as the Cousins' target, and Walt and Jesse rejoin forces. That summary, though, does not justice to the explosive way these plot developments are handled. What continues to amaze about Breaking Bad is that it's both the journey and the destination. (Did any of you predict that one of the cousins would be taken out of action* by the end of the hour this week? Do any of you think that's the most important thing we learned?)
Seasons One and Two of this show were such potent explorations of existential dread that it seemed unlikely the mood could be sustained into different circumstances. Yet here I am whispering "oh no!" as events unfold on the screen, terrified as much of the psychological places the show is taking me as of the violence that's lurking around every corner.
From Tim Goodman’s review at SFGate
In one of those episodes that is simultaneously insular in its machinations and outsized in its breathtaking violence, "Breaking Bad" delivered one of its greatest hours on Sunday.
No doubt the "one minute" from the title - which slowly built up with tension and exploded with Hank and the Cousins in a death match, is what most people have on their minds. And indeed it's hard to think of anything else after seeing it. But all the interior elements were equally impressive as well, from the expansion of Hank's character (not only a self-realization of what he'd become but him honestly admitting his fears to Marie), to Jesse's verbal take-down of Walt in the hospital. Beyond those scenes, we got Walt and Jesse reunited and Gale removed from the lab, though some loose strings might be left there. And yet, for all of those keen developments, once again the thing that seemed so intricately detailed and beautifully shot was the color combinations in this episode. Seriously, from blue to purple (lots of purple) and onto black, this whole episode was saturated. Like a bruise.
From Ken Tucker’s review at EW.com
Last night’s Breaking Bad was more explosive than an RV meth-lab driving into a burning building. It was also one of the most beautiful-looking hours on TV this season.
The pre-credits sequence, in which we saw a flashback to the murderous cousins who’ve been tracking Bryan Cranston’s Walt as little boys, was a sun-flare bright sequence that set up the origin of these two, with Tuco Salamanca uttering the words that guided their present-day revenge quest: “Family is all.” So it is with Walt and his brother-in-law, Hank (the superlative Dean Norris).
This amazing episode, written by X-Files vet Thomas Schnauz, had major scenes for every major character. Just think of the early scene, with Jesse lying in his hospital bed, flanked by lawyer Saul (Bob Odenkirk) and Walt. The sustained vituperation let loose by Jesse, the fury mixed with anguish as he noted that, in a twisted-logic way, Walt has been responsible for every bad thing that’s happened to Jesse since they’ve met, was a bravura piece of acting and writing. (Note to Aaron Paul: Be sure to submit this scene for Emmy consideration.)
From Myles McNutt’s lengthy review at Cultural Learnings:
However, it was an episode that features some really fantastic dramatic acting from Dean Norris and Aaron Paul, who at this point are in a duel over who most deserves the Supporting Actor Emmy. In the case of Paul, the character only had two big scenes in the episode, but they were absolutely bloody fantastic ones - while Jesse doesn’t have a substantial narrative in the episode, we get two very different responses to his current situation as a result of Hank’s episode-opening decision to beat the living crap out of him. The first is pure anger and defiance, believing that Hank deserves to pay for what he’s done and that this only strengthens his resolve to keep cooking and to prove himself. However, the second scene (as Walt returns later to cut him into his gig with Gus) is a very different Jesse: he is still angry, but he is angry about his state in life, angry that ever since he started this journey he has lost everything that has mattered to him (his family, his friends, Jane, etc.). The Jesse we’ve seen to this point in the season has been cold and detached, sober but also resisting any sort of human connection: this is, I believe, what he thought it meant to be the bad guy, how he was supposed to succeed in his chosen (or determined, if you accept his argument) way of life. But in that second scene he is a damaged twenty-something left treading water as all remnants of his past life float face down, and Paul absolutely nails all of those intense emotions boiling to the surface. They’re two of the best scenes he’s done on the show, and are certainly Emmy worthy.
At the end of the day, though, I think I’m officially on “Team Dean” in this particular horse race. While I kept switching back and forth between the two actors as the hour went on, I’m still shocked at how what seemed like an unnecessary character in the first season has developed into someone both more sympathetic and more tragic than Walt has ever been. Norris wasn’t asked to do much early on, but in the wake of the chaos in El Paso he has absolutely been up to the task of fleshing out Hank as a man whose life was turned upside down by an event he still doesn’t entirely understand. Just as the episode sets up that everything is going right for Hank before we realize he’s about to be attacked by the Cousins, Tuco’s shooting tricked Hank into believing that life was about to get better before he realized that it was all a lie. Norris is not a flashy actor, but his pure anger in the opening scenes is so wonderfully contrasted with his breakdown in the elevator, or with the steely resolve he shows as he accepts his actions, finally admitting to Marie that he has been gripped by panic attacks since El Paso. His life has been unraveling, all the result of Walt pulling a thread out of the sweater that was his life, and Norris has been remarkable at drawing us into this character’s head when we thought it was empty when the series began.