No one can break your heart — or your will — like kin. And as we reach the Better Call Saul Season 1 finale knowing Chuck sabotaged Jimmy’s law career from the get-go, preferring his baby brother serve as his errand boy and not his equal (and, worse, that Big Brother McGill has every intention of profiting further from the Sandpiper Crossing case), it’s a stinging reminder that no matter how your adult years go, family has a knack for keeping you the kid who crashed the Chrysler right up unto the grave.
The revelation leaves Jimmy at a crossroads. The only family member he has left thinks he’s a schmuck, even if Jimmy knows better. The Sandpiper case is stratospheres out of his league as a solo jurist. And a lifetime of elder law, practiced from the meager office he could manage with his $20K payout from HHM, seems to be all that awaits.
What to do?
For Jimmy, the answer appears to be to seek out the company of the one guy who always believed Slippin’ Jimmy hung the moon.
We open “Marco” in flashback back in Cicero. Jimmy, in his mullet and trademark disco shirt, has come to his favorite watering hole to say goodbye to Marco, his partner in petty crime. Marco begs his pal to go on one last bender, but Jimmy says no. Chuck is waiting in a taxi outside and Jimmy must go begin his new life as a mailroom clerk in Albuquerque.
“It’s like watching Miles David give up the trumpet,” says Marco, sadly.
No, says Jimmy. It’s an opportunity and he has to grab it.
Cut to the present, where Jimmy sits forlornly on an HHM bench, waiting to hand over Sandpiper Crossing to Howard, whom he now knows is not the root of his troubles. Kim sits down beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” Jimmy asks his friend. “Because I didn’t want you to hate your own brother,” she tells him.
Upstairs, Howard tells Jimmy he truly didn’t want things to go the way they did. “If it were up to me, we would have at least …”
Jimmy stops him. Bygones are bygones. He knows who the real villain was and if Howard has any trouble getting the Sandpiper residents to work with him, he should call and Jimmy will set them straight.
Oh and by the way? Jimmy’s sorry he called Howard a pig-f**ker.
Howard hands over Jimmy’s “of counsel” fee and says his general fund payout should be a fine sum, too, when it comes. Jimmy has one last item of business to tend to. He hands Chuck’s supply list to Howard and gives him a brief rundown. Knowing Chuck’s opinion of Jimmy, Howard is stunned at everything Jimmy has done for his brother for more than a year. He promises to have the job done right.
“I always liked you, Jimmy,” Howard says as Jimmy turns to leave. “Remember I used to call you Charlie Hustle?” Jimmy remembers.
In the parking lot, Kim wonders why Jimmy has stayed so calm, right down to seeing to it that Chuck gets his supplies. Jimmy looks resigned. “He’s a sick man,” he says. “He’s my brother. He thinks I’m a scumbag. There’s nothing I can do to change that.” Kim compliments his maturity.
Back at the bingo hall, Chuck is calling out numbers for the elderly crowd. A succession of Bs proves his undoing. B for Betrayal. B for Brother. B for Belize, to which he will never get to go. He wades out into the perplexed crowd.
Who here has heard of a Chicago Sunroof? (Everyone remember the Chicago Sunroof as the mystery offense that landed Jimmy in the slammer back in Cicero?) Well it’s a real thing. And here’s why Jimmy pulled one.
Seems there was a guy back then named Chet who owed Jimmy money and slept with his wife, to boot (there was a Mrs. Slippin’ Jimmy?!). So one day Jimmy spots Chet’s shiny pearlescent white BMW double parked outside the local soft-serve stand. Jimmy decided to serve Chet some revenge in the form of some soft-serve of his own making — a.k.a. said Chicago Sunroof. He hopped atop the car, dropped his drawers and well … defecated through its open top. Problem was —unbeknownst to Jimmy because of the car’s (illegally) tinted windows — Chet’s kids were waiting for their dad in the back seat and they witnessed the whole thing. Hence the indecent exposure and sex offense charges, when Jimmy only meant to demonstrate what he thought his rival was.
A simple (albeit gross) act of revenge by a brokenhearted man.
“And I’ve been paying for it ever since,” says Jimmy.
He tells the seniors to take the spoils on the table — kittie notebooks for everyone — then drops the microphone and takes his leave.
Cut to Jimmy admiring a rust-bucket Cutlass outside the same tavern from the opening shot. Myna’s stepson has taken over as bartender, but sure enough — Marco is still there, conked out cold at the bar. Jimmy wakes him and greets him and after some catching up, they spy a well-dressed stranger and decide to do a little business for old time’s sake.
Jimmy fishes a coin out of his pocket and the pair move from their booth to the bar before the guy can spot that they’re together. Once the slickster is in place across the way, they get to work, Jimmy attempting to let his “new acquaintance” in on one heck of a deal. Seems he has a half-dollar with President Kennedy facing west instead of east — one of only a couple thou remaining on the planet. It’s easily worth $800, but Jimmy will let “Alvin” have it for a hundred bucks flat. Marco/Alvin hems and haws convincingly and Jimmy says he can think it over while he goes to the restroom. Jimmy safely out of earshot, Marco asks to use the phone. He pretends to make a call to a coin dealer and get some jaw-dropping news about the coin’s value. The business guy bites. When Jimmy returns from the can, a bidding war ensues and — well, I’ll be! — the stranger comes out on top, scoring the coin for a cool $150 before beating a hasty retreat.
Cut to a Vegas-style montage of Marco and Jimmy knocking off a week’s worth of their Greatest Hits scams. Which includes scoring a bit of bar wench booty by claiming that Jimmy’s Kevin Costner and Marco is his business manager — a ruse that falls apart nicely with the morning sun.
After the ladies leave, Jimmy fishes out his cell phone and listens to a few messages from the seniors. A shadow passes over his face. And when Marco appears, he tells his old friend that it’s been a great week, but he has to go back to New Mexico, because, well, he’s a lawyer now. And Chuck needs him.
Marco says the hell with Chuck — he needs something, too, before Jimmy goes. One last go at the fake Rolex swindle. Jimmy says no. No no and no. No, Marco. No. “I don’t need the money,” Marco says wistfully at his pal. “I need this.”
Cut to Marco in his three-piece suit waiting by the dumpster in the alley. But Jimmy doesn’t come. Marco coughs painfully and looks around. Suddenly there’s a howl. Then another one. The ruse is on.
But this time, when Jimmy and his new acquaintance come upon Marco’s wallet and then Marco, Jimmy’s old pal is oddly still. Jimmy falls to his knees beside his friend. The other guy bolts with the goods, leaving Jimmy to frantically call 911. Marco comes to long enough to tell Jimmy that their week together was the greatest of his life. Jimmy’s biggest fan dies with a serene smile on his face.
At the funeral, Marco’s mom gifts Jimmy with her boy’s pinky ring — and millions of Breaking Bad fans enjoy a nice a-ha moment.
Jimmy’s about have one, himself. As he’s about to head back into the service, his phone rings. It’s Kim. Interesting news. The Sandpiper case has gotten so big that they, too, are handing it off — to a firm called Davis & Main. And guess what else? They don’t just want the case — they want Jimmy, too. Partner-track position AND he gets to complete his own hard work.
“Chuck wouldn’t like it,” says Jimmy.
“Howard’s been pushing for this, too,” Kim says.” A meeting is set for Thursday. Be there ready to impress.
Speaking of Chuck, a poor HHM lackey named Ernesto has been handed the job as his keeper and has come by with Granny Smith apples instead of the in-season Fuji that Chuck prefers. Also, he would like to try soy milk, so if Ernie could please bring that by, too, that would be super.
As Ernie heads for his car to leave, he spots another car, curbside. Jimmy’s, with Jimmy inside. Through the blinds, Chuck spies his brother, too, but as he reaches tentatively for the doorknob, Jimmy pulls away.
Did he come to rub the pending job offer in Chuck’s face? Seek permission to take it and prove Chuck wrong? Kiss this chapter of his life — Chapter McGill — one final goodbye?
In his courthouse toll booth, Mike is considering another job offer when Jimmy pulls up. Checking his hair in his side mirror, Jimmy heads for the building, rehearsing his Davis & Main greeting as he goes. Then he freezes in his tracks, closing his eyes and running his thumb over Marco’s ring secured on his pinky. He has done the right(ish) thing so many times, trusted so many people to be noble partners in his success, tried so damned hard for ten long years. And where has it gotten him?
Moments later, he pulls up to Mike’s booth. What stopped them from keeping the Kettleman cash, he asks his former nemesis. He had 1.6 mil on his desk that no one knew he had. They were set. Mike says he recalls Jimmy saying something about doing the right thing. Jimmy (understandably) doesn’t know what that means anymore.
“Me personally,” says Mike, knowing only too well where taking cash that doesn’t belong to you can lead. “I was hired to do a job. I did it. That’s as far as it goes.”
“Yeah,” says Jimmy, Marco’s ring and the fake Rolex glinting. “Well, I know what stopped me. And you know what? It’s never stopping me again.”
And with a smile on his face, his ring-clad hand on the wheel and humming Marco’s favorite tune, Smoke on the Water, Jimmy burns down the road to the future … his future. For better (call Saul) or for the worse — so much worse — we know is coming.
Were you happy with the Better Cal Saul Season 1 finale? With the season as a whole? Were you surprised to be in Jimmy McGill’s company for the duration with only the merest mention of Saul, and glimpses of Nacho and Tuco? Were you rubbled by Jimmy’s bingo-hall monologue — or thrilled? What’s your take on why he skipped out on one last chance at the big leagues? And ultimately — was Slippin’ Jimmy destined to become Saul Goodman all along — or is he a construct of Chuck’s betrayal? Sound off in the comments section below.
Photos: Ursula Coyote/AMC
