Why did they give up $1.6m so easily? Mike knows why he did – his strict code of only doing what he was paid to do without feeling Chuck looking over his shoulder, Jimmy is not so sure doing the right thing was the right thing… Without the fear of Chuck (or need to get his approval) hovering over him, the part of him that felt so alive riffing with Marco sees the Kettleman case with fresh eyes: he drives straight back out of the car park for a last chat with Mike. It’s a good deal: the kind of legit path to making the “big bank” Marco assumes he must be earning when he finds out Slipping Jimmy has become a lawyer. And, as she points out, he’d be able to check in with the Sandpiper residents who’ve been asking for him – he may be a natural born grifter, but he’s also a natural with them. So he’d be working on the case he built, but without having to deal with Chuck. The Sandpiper case is too big for HHM alone, they’re bringing in another firm to share the grunt-work, and they’re interested in hiring Jimmy for a partner-track position. Photograph: Ursula Coyote/AMC/AMC ‘I know what stopped me and it’s never stopping me again’ As before, they set up for the “Rolex in the alley” con, with one unfortunate difference: Marco’s out cold for real this time. Marco’s gutted – it’s the most fun he’s had in ages – and he can’t let Jimmy slip off without one last big haul. They’re in a groove – but Jimmy’s clients start to weigh on his mind when he checks his phone messages: time to go home.
As we saw back in Hero, Jimmy’s a natural born grifter (“Hey everybody, next round’s on us!”), and soon it’s time for a montage as Jimmy and Marco zip through a selection of classic cons involving Irish sweepstakes, African princes, rare violins, customs officers, black ink on “out of circulation” dollar bills, pretending to be Kevin Costner and so on. Their mark – a stranger in the bar sitting within earshot – takes the bait.
They pick up where they left off – spinning a story about a rare coin, “a Kennedy half dollar facing west”, that Jimmy just happens to have in his possession. Jimmy heads back home to Cicero, Illinois, where he finds old con partner Marco (Mel Rodriguez) pretty much right where he left him – face down in a bar at 4pm. No wonder Jimmy is having trouble coming up with another “B” for the bingo numbers - he’s broken and needs a break.
As we see Jimmy unravelling in public here, it’s the slow – really slow – burn of sibling rivalry that has so much force, with the full impact of Chuck saying the unsayable, pulling the darkness of a lifetime of simmering family resentment into the light giving this scene its power. Chuck’s betrayal last week wasn’t played for laughs, it’s not the mwah-ha-ha reveal of a Buffy-style Big Bad hidden in plain sight, or the high stakes drama of a cop show pulling the rug from under us. Bob Odenkirk was credited with bringing some of the lighter moments to Breaking Bad with scenes like this he proves just what a versatile presence he can be. But what’s so interesting is how underplayed it is – hilarious, full of unnerving contrasts, using the bingo hall setting to full, excruciating effect – but also full of pathos. First he baffles the seniors with references to The Hills Have Eyes, then he starts telling them the story of the “Chicago sun roof” incident that got him in trouble back home (too scatological to repeat in a family newspaper, so let’s just note it’s not the first time Better Call Saul has made a nice toilet gag and move on). He’s distracted, off his game, and soon he drifts from his smooth bingo numbers patter and gags about Nancy Reagan into an unhinged monologue. It’s a weight that’s sitting heavy on that Matlock suit. Chuck may be a “stuck-up douchebag” as his buddy Marco says later, but he’s still Jimmy’s brother. Back in his bingo master role, Jimmy’s calling out the numbers – but all the B-balls he pulls out remind him of Chuck (“B as in betrayal”, “B as in brother”…).