It’s been a decade since I first witnessed Walter White’s transformation from a mild-mannered chemistry teacher to the notorious drug kingpin known as Heisenberg. Vince Gilligan’s masterpiece, Breaking Bad, captivated me with its unflinching portrayal of a man’s moral descent and the devastating wake left by his choices. But what started as a single, concentrated story has since expanded into what fans affectionately call the “Gilliverse” – a rich tapestry of interconnected narratives that span multiple series and a feature film.
Though I’ve only personally experienced the original series in its entirety, I find myself increasingly drawn to the expanded universe Gilligan and his collaborators have created. In this piece, I want to explore how Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, and El Camino connect to form a comprehensive saga about morality, transformation, and the ripple effects of our choices.
From Mr. Chips to Scarface: The Heart of Breaking Bad
At its core, Breaking Bad was about transformation. As Gilligan himself said, his goal with Walter White was to turn “Mr. Chips into Scarface.” This premise, deceptively simple, yielded one of television’s most complex character studies. What began as a desperate attempt to secure his family’s future quickly revealed itself as something far darker – Walter’s long-suppressed resentment and hunger for power.
Walter White’s journey remains fascinating precisely because we witnessed each incremental step into darkness. The show’s brilliance lay in making each moral compromise feel both shocking and inevitable. By the time Walt declared, “I am the one who knocks,” we’d been so thoroughly pulled into his perspective that this terrifying proclamation felt almost triumphant.
But Breaking Bad was never just the Walter White show. Jesse Pinkman’s journey from wayward former student to moral conscience provided the show’s beating heart. Their relationship – by turns paternal, manipulative, co-dependent, and destructive – gave the series its emotional backbone. While Walt descended, Jesse struggled toward something resembling redemption, making their final scenes together all the more poignant.
Better Call Saul: The Prequel That Became Its Own Masterpiece
I’ve yet to watch Better Call Saul, but by all accounts, what began as a spin-off centered on Bob Odenkirk’s sleazy lawyer has evolved into something that many critics consider equal to – and sometimes superior to – its predecessor. Initially conceived as a half-hour comedy, the show instead chose to tell a tragedy: the story of Jimmy McGill’s transformation into Saul Goodman.
What fascinates me most about Better Call Saul‘s premise is how it inverts Breaking Bad‘s formula. While Walter White started as sympathetic and gradually revealed his monstrousness, Saul Goodman was introduced to us as a morally bankrupt character who, we learn through the prequel, once had principles and decency. The tragedy isn’t just that Jimmy becomes Saul – it’s that we know exactly where his path leads.
But beyond Jimmy/Saul, the prequel series expanded the world of Breaking Bad in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. Characters who were supporting players in the original series – Mike Ehrmantraut, Gus Fring – became fully realized protagonists in their own right. And new characters like Kim Wexler, Chuck McGill, and Nacho Varga apparently add emotional and moral dimensions that enrich our understanding of the whole saga.
El Camino: Jesse’s Epilogue
When Breaking Bad concluded, Jesse Pinkman’s fate was left somewhat open-ended. We saw him escape captivity, speeding away in Todd’s El Camino, laughing and crying with equal parts trauma and relief. El Camino, Gilligan’s feature-length epilogue, picks up precisely where the series left off, following Jesse’s desperate attempts to disappear and start a new life.
The film apparently provides closure for Jesse’s arc, showing him wrestling with his past while trying to secure a future. It’s a fitting coda to one of Breaking Bad‘s most complex characters – a young man who, unlike Walter White, never fully surrendered his moral compass despite the horrors he both witnessed and participated in.
The Moral Universe of the Heisenberg Saga
What strikes me most about the expanded Heisenberg saga is its consistent moral framework. Unlike other sprawling television universes that can feel disjointed or contradictory, Gilligan’s world operates according to a clear set of principles: actions have consequences, moral compromises exact their toll, and redemption is possible but never easy.
Walter White’s famous line – “I did it for me. I liked it. I was good at it” – serves as a thematic lynchpin for the entire saga. Self-deception eventually gives way to harsh truth. The lie at the center of Walter’s journey – that he was doing it all for his family – mirrors Jimmy McGill’s self-deceptions about his legal career and Mike’s rationalizations about being a “criminal” but not a “bad guy.”
The shows suggest that our moral character isn’t determined by a single choice but by countless small decisions that either strengthen or erode our ethical foundations. Walt didn’t become Heisenberg in one moment; Jimmy didn’t become Saul overnight. Their transformations happened gradually, through a thousand tiny compromises.
Character Foils and Parallels
One of the most fascinating aspects of the expanded universe is how characters serve as foils for one another across the different series. The parallels between Walter White and Jimmy McGill are apparent – both are intelligent, underachieving men who harbor deep resentments about their station in life. But their trajectories differ in crucial ways: Walter embraces his darker impulses with increasing enthusiasm, while Jimmy’s transformation into Saul seems to involve a more complicated relationship with his moral decline.
Similarly, Jesse Pinkman and Nacho Varga function as characters caught in worlds not entirely of their making, trying to maintain some semblance of their humanity while navigating criminal environments. Mike Ehrmantraut and Gus Fring represent different approaches to criminality – Mike’s world-weary pragmatism contrasted with Gus’s methodical, almost corporate approach to the drug trade.
And then there’s Kim Wexler, who by all accounts emerges as one of the most compelling characters in the entire saga despite never appearing in Breaking Bad. Her relationship with Jimmy apparently forms the emotional core of Better Call Saul, raising questions about how someone seemingly so central to Saul’s life could be entirely absent during the Breaking Bad timeline.
The Albuquerque Setting as Character
Another element that unites the Heisenberg saga is its setting. Albuquerque isn’t just a backdrop for these stories; it’s practically a character in its own right. The stark, beautiful landscapes of New Mexico provide a distinctly American canvas for these modern Westerns.
The shows embrace the neo-Western aesthetic – from the dusty, sunbaked vistas to the themes of frontier justice and lawlessness. Walter White’s transformation into Heisenberg, complete with his black hat, deliberately evokes Western imagery. Better Call Saul apparently leans even more heavily into this aesthetic, with its deliberate pacing and visual style that recalls classic films of the genre.
The Artistry Behind the Camera
Although I’ve focused primarily on narrative and character, it’s impossible to discuss the Heisenberg saga without acknowledging the exceptional craftsmanship behind it. Breaking Bad set new standards for cinematography in television, with its distinctive visual palette and innovative camera work. The time-lapse sequences, the POV shots, the symbolic color schemes – all of these elements contributed to a unique visual language.
Better Call Saul, from what I understand, maintains this visual excellence while establishing its own identity. The prequel is reportedly more patient and methodical, reflecting Jimmy’s slower slide into corruption compared to Walter’s rapid descent. El Camino, with its feature film budget and scope, apparently takes this visual storytelling to new heights.
A Universe Without Heroes
Perhaps what makes the Heisenberg saga so compelling is its refusal to provide us with conventional heroes. Even the most sympathetic characters are deeply flawed, morally compromised, or tragically shortsighted. Walter White’s genius is matched only by his pride and resentment. Jimmy McGill’s charm and creativity are undermined by his inability to play by the rules. Jesse Pinkman’s fundamental decency is repeatedly tested by his addiction and poor decisions.
Yet rather than creating a nihilistic universe, this approach engenders profound empathy. We understand these characters even when we disapprove of their choices. We recognize the human weaknesses that lead them astray because we share those same frailties. The Heisenberg saga may not offer heroes, but it provides something more valuable: a mirror that reflects our own capacity for both moral courage and failure.
The Road Ahead
As someone who has only experienced Breaking Bad firsthand, I find myself increasingly eager to dive into Better Call Saul and El Camino. The prospect of returning to this morally complex universe, with its richly drawn characters and exceptional craftsmanship, is enticing. But I’m also aware that the expanded saga offers something more than just additional content – it promises new perspectives on familiar characters and events.
Better Call Saul wasn’t content to simply fill in backstory; it apparently creates a dialogue with its predecessor, enriching and sometimes recontextualizing what we thought we knew about characters like Saul, Mike, and Gus. El Camino offers closure for Jesse’s story while honoring the ambiguity that made Breaking Bad so compelling.
Conclusion: The Legacy of the Heisenberg Saga
In a television landscape increasingly dominated by expanded universes and franchise extensions, the Heisenberg saga stands apart. Rather than diluting the original’s impact, these additions have apparently deepened and enriched Gilligan’s moral universe. Where other franchises expand horizontally, adding more characters and plotlines without necessarily adding depth, the Heisenberg saga expands vertically – delving deeper into its characters and themes.
What began as a simple premise – a chemistry teacher turns to crime – has evolved into one of television’s most nuanced explorations of morality, identity, and the consequences of our choices. Whether we’re watching Walter White’s descent, Jimmy McGill’s transformation, or Jesse Pinkman’s quest for freedom, we’re ultimately witnessing variations on the same fundamental human struggle: the battle between our better angels and our darkest impulses.
And that, I suspect, is why the Heisenberg saga will endure. Beyond the memorable characters and the stunning craftsmanship, these stories tap into timeless questions about human nature. In Walter White’s famous words, they show us not just what we do, but why we do it. And in doing so, they hold up a mirror to our own capacity for self-deception, corruption, and – perhaps – redemption.