Film Review: “El Camino” is a functional, elegant coda for the outlaw Jesse Pinkman
The finale of Breaking Bad ended with young Jesse Pinkman, filthy and brutalized, hoofin’ it like a mad man to god knows where. The optimistic viewer assumed he was heading somewhere better. The pessimistic viewer could only assume he was heading to more heartbreak, more brutality, if not jail or the grave. Still, we all couldn’t help but wonder – “What happened to Jesse Pinkman?”
Creator Vince Gilligan has re-teamed with Aaron Paul and the rest of the craftspeople who made Breaking Bad the premium entertainment it was to give us an answer in El Camino.
Your mileage may vary, but what I always found so addictive and enthralling about Breaking Bad was its sturdy foundation of one question: “How the hell are they going to get out of this one?” It was the question that fueled almost every iconic scene of the show’s run. It’s a simple question – elementary, even. However, so many other pulpy genre shows forgo this question in favour of wading through the morass of solemn affectations and mature textures and various other bits of pretentious gobbledygook (see: The Walking Dead ). Breaking Bad’s fundamentals are strong, though, and so it endures and is endlessly rewatchable.
It’s this question that powers El Camino, only this time it’s ever so slightly different: “How the hell is he going to get out of this one?”. This time, there is no “they”, because Walter White is obviously dead.
Jesse Pinkman, with few friends left who can bail him out, has to summon those inner resources and earn his freedom. It’s a compelling idea. He’s a guy who never had the fortitude to extricate himself completely from The Life. But he also displayed more sensitivity and compassion than everyone else. In a flashback scene, he wonders aloud to the old-timer Mike if he could ever make things right. Mike characteristically gruffly shuts that question down, but you only need to glance at him to know he’s speaking facts. It’s a beautiful melancholy scene – gorgeously photographed and performed.
But this opening scene has a real function to it, too: Vince Gilligan is telling us that this won’t be a story about redemption. After all, we are reminded a few times that Jesse has his whole life ahead of him. And you can only figure out that kind of thing in serenity instead of desperation.
So it’s a fight for survival movie, sometimes managing to be as thrilling and darkly comedic as Breaking Bad was at its best. But Breaking Bad lent itself so beautifully to episodic structures, so El Camino feels somewhat constrained and oddly paced at times. On the other hand, El Camino takes advantage of its movie-sized budget, with a smart Western influence pervading many scenes, including a fist-pumping climax; think Sergio Leone meets the Coen Brothers.
If you can’t tell a Jesse Pinkman from a Walter White, this film assuredly isn’t for you. For the rest of us, El Camino is a treat.
