Final Essay Outline

Topic: Patriarchal Entrapment in “Breaking Bad” and “Mad Men”

I.               Introduction

a.     Briefly summarize what Mad Men and Breaking Bad are all about

b.     Connect both shows thematically by bringing up Male Entrapment

II.             Breaking Bad

a.     Examine Walt’s trapped situation

                                               i.     Look at factors that have led him to his entrapment

                                              ii.     Determine if he’s the bringer of his own entrapment or if it is forced upon him

b.     Track the course of his entrapment throughout all four seasons of Breaking Bad

c.      Look at Skylar’s character and determine how the show portrays the matriarch (negatively, for the most part)

III.           Mad Men

a.     Examine Don’s trapped situation

                                               i.     Look at factors that have led him to his entrapment

                                              ii.     Determine if he’s the cause of his own entrapment of if it was forced upon him

b.     Track the course throughout the four seasons of Mad Men

c.      Look at Betty’s character, her development, and the stance the show has taken on her character.

IV.            Connecting the two

a.     Examine how each male reacts to his suburban entrapment

b.     Examine how each character has respectively created their very own “trapped” state through their reactions to their original state of entrapment.

V.              Conclusion

a.     Solidify the link between the two shows

b.     Connect with other modern art depicting patriarchal entrapment

c.      Do these things point to a sign of the times? Are we all sympathetic to the Male’s roles of responsibility in society?

Breaking Bad Season 3, Episode 10: "Fly" Review

Breaking Bad Season 3, Episode 10: "Fly" created by Vince Gilligan

Breaking Bad is a show that thrives when it embraces elements of a high-octane thrill ride. Every action sequence in the series thus far has been perfectly choreographed, and the narrative twists and turns employed by the show’s writers have always provided for some of the most compelling television currently hitting the small screen.

Midway through the third season, Breaking Bad has tossed aside their old formula for success. During the season’s 10^th episode, the writers backed away from their penchant for big thrills and showed their true prowess of the craft in an episode titled, “Fly.”

There is no action in “Fly.” There are no plot twists or surprises. In fact, the two main characters Walt (Bryan Cranston) and Jesse (Aaron Paul) barely leave their meth-lab. The episode mostly consists of one long conversation between Cranston and Paul that occurs while they’re trying to catch a fly that has infiltrated their lab. Walt’s pursuit of the rogue insect borders on madness. The actual threat posed by the presence of the fly is minimal, but Walt asserts that order must be kept by destroying the winged intruder. Jesse confusedly aids in this pursuit, helping his clearly maniacal partner in his quest for control.

With “Fly,” Breaking Bad’s writers have boiled down the essence of Walt’s character up to this point in the series. Walt craves power and control, and the fly’s presence in their working environment denies him both. His resultant mania to catch the fly is the ultimate expression of his frustration and stress with factors in his personal life. His inability to kill the fly is akin to his inability to control many elements of his own life.

Acting and dialogue drive the episode – and both find themselves in top form. The pacing of the conversation is impeccable. Revelatory bits of information about Walt and Jesse are tactfully peeled away, giving the conversation an air of reality. Cranston and Paul’s chemistry is near perfect, each actor bouncing off the other in perfect harmony with the feelings and thoughts of their characters. There’s an intensity these two bring to their performances in this episode that remains unmatched throughout the rest of the series.

There’s always a risk when a show decides to take on an episode in this manner. The “chamber-piece” format may alienate fans of the show who crave a revved up narrative full of twists and turns. This episode’s success relies on the deep, complex characters that the show has crafted up to this point. Every word in Walt and Jesse’s conversation is filled with rich subtext asking further thought and exploration. The tone of the episode is contemplative and metaphorical – something representative of larger ideas. While some may find “Fly” off-putting, astute viewers attempting to key into the arcs and emotions of the characters will not be disappointed. 

A Chemist Lifting with Extreme Precaution the Cuticle of a Grand Piano Review

"A Chemist Lifting with Extreme Precaution the Cuticle of a Grand Piano" by Salvador Dali, 1936

There’s no question that Salvador Dali is one of the most influential painters of all time. His landmark surrealist works push the boundaries of the painted image, and create a world unlike any other previously seen. The Art Institute of Chicago’s “A Chemist Lifting with Extreme Precaution the Cuticle of a Grand Piano” (1936) stands as one of his most arresting works, utilizing his trademark otherworldly style to create an image that transcends space and time.

“A Chemist” depicts (in classic Dali style) a dream-like landscape occupied by various characters. The space they occupy is blank and bare, with clouds in the background. A chemist lifts a piano, a child holding a rope looks on, an undetermined womanly figure stands relaxed, a man leans lazily in the foreground, and a wizened old man who seems to be melting stares intently to away from it all. Far off in the distance we see a character meandering through the blank landscape – purposeless and barren.

The beauty of Dali is that his characters function both symbolically and viscerally. The painting’s greatest strength is its unexplainable emotional grab. The muted colors and flowing composition draw viewers into the world of Salvador Dali. Everything in the painting seems like it’s melting, and Dali’s sense of amiable line lets shapes bleed into the background and one another. The emotional effect of the piece is one of quiet reflection and austerity. We’re looking at the edges of the human mind, peering at characters created by the subconscious. They are frozen in time – the still products of a mind in contemplation.

The characters can also be read symbolically. The title of the piece suggest particular attention be paid to the chemist and his actions. Here Dali presents us with surreal duality – a man of science barely lifting a product of art. The piano can be molded and configured, suggesting music’s inherent scientific infusion. The rest of the characters provide less-obvious symbolic functionality. They act as observers to the chemist, but also seem to stand in as individual thoughts. We’re gazing at the freely associative subconscious of a surreal genius, and our very own intuition assigns symbolic meaning to these ghostly images.

The feeling of aimless wandering achieved through the colors and composition gives the painting its trademark among the vast Dali canon. There’s an incredible duality to the figures presented. They seem to be at once purposeful and purposeless. They function as symbols and emotional catalysts. They hint at concrete definition, yet avoid it at every turn. Dali’s success is in his elusiveness. “A Chemist Lifting with Extreme Precaution the Cuticle of a Grand Piano” is affecting because of its haunting dreamscapes, surreal emotional power, and, ultimately, its inability to be concretely defined.

Almost Famous Review

Nostalgia, in art, is often a tricky subject to tackle. Attempts to immortalize the past can often fall flat. One man’s romantic depiction is another man’s sentimental swill. Cameron Crowe’s “Almost Famous” occupies an area in between, though it leans towards the latter description. Filled to the brim with hollow acting, rampant predictability, and a nauseating “feel good” attitude, “Almost Famous” simply tries too hard.

Largely autobiographical, “Almost Famous” tracks main character William Miller’s (Patrick Fugit) introduction into the wild world of 1970’s rock n’ roll criticism. Through meeting a series of larger-than-life personalities on tour with rock band Stillwater, William is introduced to the ethical pitfalls of journalism and criticism.  While faced with these professional questions, he falls in love, makes friends, and everything generally comes up roses for everybody.

The film’s nauseatingly predictable story is the least of its problems. The empty, vapid portrayals of the clichéd characters force the whole nostalgic experience to fall flat. Fugit’s performance lacks any of the verve or life that the character calls for. Even worse is Kate Hudson’s portrayal of “band-aide” Penny Lane. The character functions as the prototypical “free-spirited female that changes the main character’s life,” and Hudson’s unbearably cheesy performance gives audiences little reason to care about her character.

Crowe paints the past romantically. There’s a sweeping energy and genuine love for the time period that clearly comes across. The attention to detail and love for the subject matter finds Crowe’s intentions in the right place (the production design is phenomenal) – the final product just falls short. The emotions dealt with are cookie-cutter and forced, and the story resolves itself all-too-easily.  

Little attention is given to the most interesting theme dealt with: the journalistic ethics of reviewing the artistic output of close friends. Too much time is spent caught up in Cameron’s romantic view of the lifeless, oftentimes unbearable characters, and not enough to the intellectual struggles of a journalist in crisis. Crowe lingers too long on the clichéd characters and emotions, and not enough on the real conflict. Perhaps it’s simply the result of unlikeable characters or hollow acting, but the dramatic stakes of the film feel low throughout. There isn’t much at stake here for any character, and keying into their emotional problems is difficult without any identification.

Here, nostalgia has done Crowe a disservice. His need to romanticize the past results in a predictable, flat, typical Hollywood film. Everything about “Almost Famous” screams “conventional,” something I’m sure the film was trying to vehemently avoid.