'Better Call Saul' Saved Its Best Con For Last

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The second flashback moves from “Bagman” to a time before Breaking Bad’s “Granite State.” As Saul and Walter White prepare to be whisked away by Ed the Disappearer to their newfound fates, Saul asks the same question. In typical Walt fashion, he responds by cutting Saul down about the logistics of time travel and instead identifies the question for what it is: a chance to talk about regret. And so he does, kvetching about how he was (unfairly) ousted from Gray Matter. Also, in typical Walt fashion, the choice was the fault of someone else, not the consequences of his actions. Saul’s response sees him travel back in time to when he pulled a slip-and-fall that permanently hurt his knee. Walt, in disgust, lashes out: “So you were always like this.”

The third flashback seemingly takes place as an immediate prologue to the first episode of Better Call Saul. Chuck (a returning Michael McKean) stumbles through his darkened house with a lantern as Jimmy comes over with the evening’s assortment of groceries. As Jimmy unloads, we’re treated to an inversion of the typical McGill brothers’ tête-à-tête; instead of Jimmy yearning for a connection with Chuck, it’s the other way round. But just like Chuck often found Jimmy’s choices at odds with his own, so Jimmy bristles at the very thought. But before he departs, Chuck sincerely states that it’s never too late to change one’s path.

This triple trip through time is the final of many flourishes throughout “Saul Gone” that highlight just how difficult it’s been for Jimmy McGill to have a sincere moment of self-reflection and change the trajectory of his life. Each scene illustrates the point that, much like Walter White, Jimmy McGill was always Saul Goodman throughout his life—no matter how often he lied to himself.

The elegant beauty of “Saul Gone” lies not only in this exploration but in how it works to deconstruct it and rebuild something new. In the wake of an attempt to strangle Marion (national treasure Carol Burnett), Gene finds himself on the run, endeavoring to outmaneuver the Omaha police—only to be caught in a dumpster like the cockroach Lalo said he was. But like that famed cucaracha, Jimmy has one more trick up his sleeve. Cackling inside his cell like Walter White once did in a tight space, Saul Goodman is born again with a plan to avoid the multiple life sentences he’ll likely face. In front of a fleet of government prosecutors and a (surprising!) return of Marie Schrader, Jimmy spins a web of deceit about how he was an unwilling pawn to Heisenberg’s reign of terror; if Walter White could murder almost a dozen people without a hitch, how easy would it be for him to axe Saul Goodman, too? 

The gathered group doesn’t buy the lie, but Saul is like Superman in front of a blazing yellow sun; he knows all it will take to have the government’s case fall apart is to convince one person his lies are facts. The government begins to yield to his demands—until he goes too far. In an attempt to trade a sweeter (the fate of Howard Hamlin) for a sweeter (Jimmy wants his Blue Bell mint chocolate chip ice cream; having grown up in the South eating Blue Bell, I can say he’s spot on), Jimmy discovers Kim has already offered up the whereabouts of Howard in an affidavit she provided to Cheryl, Howard’s widow. As a result, Kim is facing losing everything in civil court. Looking for one last way out, Jimmy states he’s willing to provide information about Kim under testimony. 

Only, Jimmy’s working a con within a con. At the hearing, with Kim in attendance, Jimmy is compelled to come clean. He unburdens himself about everything, admitting that he felt Walter White was a cash cow he could leverage, and willingly went into cahoots with him. Jimmy further states that he was responsible for the circumstances behind Chuck’s eventual suicide and expresses the guilt over Howard’s murder. Turns out the one person Jimmy needed to convince was Kim, who understands her ex-husband well enough to know he’s not lying about any of it and that he’s finally doing what he couldn’t all those years ago.

As the judge addresses him as “Mr. Goodman,” Jimmy insists his name is McGill. It’s here where Better Call Saul further mirrors Breaking Bad with “Saul Gone” becoming a reflection of “Felina.” The Breaking Bad finale saw Walter White go down in a blaze of glory. Saul Goodman’s fate charts a similar course—as Jimmy’s declaration effectively kills Saul in the process. So, yes, Jimmy will spend the rest of his life in prison, but he’ll do so as a free man from a moral perspective. He won’t be able to get away from the scheming he did, not entirely at least. But on the other side is Kim, who managed to escape, so it’s fitting we see the two halves of this coin together once more. The scene reflects their first on-screen moment together: a shared cigarette over wordless glances that convey unknown depths of understanding. The moment finally provides a moment of color in what’s otherwise been a series of black-and-white sequences; as Kim sparks the lighter, the flame is rendered in its natural hue, highlighting the eternal flame they carry for one another.

But Better Call Saul, like Jimmy, has one more trick up its sleeve. As Kim exits the prison, she spots Jimmy in the prison yard, where he draws his finger guns for one last duel. Those fingers were instrumental in the schemes of Slippin’ Jimmy, whether to indicate a germinating scheme or as a way of starting the show. Kim subtly returns the gesture out of love for this man, who was finally able to break free of his badness—even if he doesn’t regret all of his cons.

Therein lies the brilliance of Better Call Saul and why it transcends the series it spun off from all those years ago. The show was initially positioned as a prequel to the cartel elements of Breaking Bad but became a show about the love between Jimmy McGill and Kim Wexler and the changes you can make to yourself in service of those you love—anchored by two absolutely masterclass performances by Bob Odenkirk and Rhea Seehorn. Saul also frequently embodied that unspoken connection between the two in its storytelling, becoming a meditative piece that trusted its audience to find the brilliance in the quiet. Where else could you have a whole sequence about doc review that’s just as compelling as a shoot-out? To trojan horse something this poignant and impactful inside a Breaking Bad prequel is nothing short of a con Slippin’ Jimmy himself would pull. I’m just as charmed by it as Kim is by Jimmy. 

One last moment in the flashback between Chuck and Jimmy strikes me. As Chucks shuffles off into his house, he snags his copy of H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine. It’s not the first time we see this book. It appears on Jimmy’s nightstand and as one of the items seized by the feds in the cold open for Season 6. But there’s a quote from that book that elegantly describes the series: “We should strive to welcome change and challenges,” it states. “Because they are what help us grow.” The Time Machine isn’t the time machine Jimmy wished for all those years ago in the desert—but the effect remains the same: by embracing change, Jimmy McGill is finally capable of finding growth.