I Like to Watch

Jan. 20, 2008 | Remember the midlife crisis? It was all the rage 20 years ago. Suddenly confronted with their crow's feet and their irrelevance in a youth-dominated culture, 40-something men and women across the country joined the gym, dumped their spouses, purchased sparkly metallic-colored Japanese sports cars with sunroofs, and attended the Forum seminars in which they tearfully confessed that they'd been living like obedient livestock all these years (aggressively led to this realization, of course, by their overbearing, authoritarian Forum leaders).

These days, we're far too self-involved and far too aware of our status as suffering, braying, googly-eyed moo-cows to be susceptible to such a dramatic epiphany. Instead of waking up and smelling the shit hitting the fan after 35 or 40 years in the dark, we face down our demons and wrestle with our bad habits and tackle big, important existential questions at least once a day. The midlife crisis has been replaced -- by the midafternoon life crisis.

Here's how it works: At around 2 p.m. each day, the caffeine levels in our blood drop precipitously, while all of the blood in our brains is diverted to our digestive systems in order to tackle that burrito the size of a handbag we ate for lunch. At around the same time, we stop idly perusing our e-mail and come to the realization that we're not going to accomplish even half of we what set out to that morning. The stress of this realization, paired with our compromised physical state, creates the illusion that we cannot possibly continue to toil away at such a pointless job for another second (let alone another day!), which in turn causes our hands to sweat and our minds to race at the thought of wasting what little time we have left on Earth half-assing a bunch of meaningless, arbitrary tasks while steadily falling behind financially despite our best efforts to get ahead. Finally, we focus our merciless, under-caffeinated minds on our bossy spouses, our ungrateful children and our hopelessly self-involved friends (who, unbeknownst to us, are experiencing their own midafternoon life crises in sync with ours). As our disillusionment and disappointment and angst and fidgety stress grow, we feel a sudden urge to take action!

Three hours later, we quit out of YouTube, dust off the crumbs from our Very Special Emergency Glazed Donut, and go home with a stomachache vowing to get more work done first thing tomorrow.

Dancing in the dark
Now, I know what you're wondering: Does the midafternoon life crisis lead to real, lasting life changes the way the midlife crisis did?

The answer is no. While the midlife crisis led to a new job, a new body, a new wardrobe, a new condo and a brand new trophy wife, the midafternoon life crisis only leads to heartburn and hours of wasted time reading speculative psychological profiles of Britney Spears.

In fact, studies show that, like a pressure gauge that lets off excess steam to prevent an explosion, the midafternoon life crisis indefinitely delays the sort of sweeping epiphany that might incite an honest attempt to improve ourselves and our standing in life. (Of course, some researchers feel strongly that it's the increased consumption of glazed doughnuts that thwarts any attempt at self-improvement.)

Walter White, the lead character of AMC's latest original drama series, "Breaking Bad" (premieres at 10 p.m. on Sunday, Jan. 20), may be experiencing a midlife crisis, but he's determined to skip the soul-searching and handle his problems with all of the distracted, grabby mania typically used to tackle a midafternoon life crisis. Warning: Some spoilers ahead! Instead of telling his pregnant wife, Skyler (Anna Gunn), that he can't stand teaching chemistry to bored, uninterested high school students and he wants to quit his afternoon job at the car wash, instead of letting her know that he's been diagnosed with lung cancer and he only has, at most, two more years to live, Walter (Bryan Cranston) gets an idea, the kind of idea that's about as carefully considered as the Very Special Emergency Glazed Donut: He'll go into business with one of his former students, Jesse (Aaron Paul), and make crystal meth!

This very bad decision soon brings a new kick to Walter's step. He seems temporarily liberated, his demeanor echoing the memorable words of Ellsworth, from "Deadwood": "I may have fucked my life up flatter than hammered shit, but I stand here before you today beholden to no human cocksucker."

Even so, from the very start, Walter and Jesse are a match made in hell. While Jesse alternately swaggers and whines and can't wait to smoke their product, Walter seems determined to create the world's most responsible meth lab: "This is lab safety equipment," he pertly explains to Jesse. "We're also going to have an emergency eye wash station!"

And just when you think they might actually succeed in their efforts, just when you think this life as a meth dealer might be vaguely exciting and empowering for poor Walter, everything starts falling apart. The tragicomic kick of the pilot episode gives way, in the second episode, to an unrelenting sensation that there's no way out of this mess for him. Our minds race, our hands sweat and we ask ourselves: Does it pay for us to invest more than an hour or two of our viewing time on such a desperate, depressed, dying man?

Yes, dark dramedies about criminals struggling to live the good life are all the rage these days, but much like overrated indie bands and poorly written graphic novels that no one can shut up about, we're expected to think that these sad, desperate tales are exciting simply because they're edgy, even though they're ubiquitous at this point, even though we don't always like the characters and don't think it's hysterical when the dead body falls down the stairs or the neighbors come over just as our hero is trying to poison his boss. While Showtime's "Dexter" and "Weeds" are two of the obvious standouts in this category, the less compelling contenders include FX's "The Riches," Showtime's "Meadowlands" and FX's "Dirt." All have the same old poorly realized characters making the same zany, ill-considered mistakes that are supposed to have us rolling on the floor. It's like being forced to watch "Trainspotting" over and over again. These pathetic but lovable ne'er-do-wells just won't bloody grow up and live the straight life!

"Breaking Bad" falls into some of the same predictable traps: Partners in crime, bickering about what to do with a dead body? Sorry, that's not automatically funny, and there's a little too much of it here. Straight-laced chemistry teacher dad, getting high? Also not a recipe for instant laughs. And let's not forget the requisite body falling down the stairs. How many times have you seen that one? By the time Jesse plunges his hand into the toilet to save his crystal meth, I'm jonesing for a Very Special Emergency Glazed Donut.

But "Breaking Bad" shows serious promise nonetheless. About halfway through the second episode, Walter is panicking over the stresses of the drug trade while his wife is getting an ultrasound. Finally, she demands to know what his problem is, and he makes up a lie -- which only makes her more angry. Unable to take it anymore, Walter takes a deep breath, grits his teeth and turns to her:

"I haven't been myself lately, but I love you. Nothing about that has changed, nothing ever will. So right now, what I need is for you to climb down out of my ass. Can you do that? Will you do that for me, honey? Will you please, just once, get off my ass? I'd appreciate it. I really would."

Whether he's cutting the crusts off a sandwich for a drug dealer or lecturing Jesse on refusing to follow his very clear instructions, Walter is an undeniably great character: a cautious, careful man whose life is careening out of control. Bryan Cranston embodies Walter's average-guy rage with believability and restraint. While the darkness of the second and third episodes were a disappointment after the careful tragicomic balance of the pilot, it'll take a little time to see whether this series develops the right mix of comedy, thoughtful moments and tragic turns. With its imaginative take on a midlife (or end-of-life) crisis, let's hope "Breaking Bad" can avoid becoming just another empty, dark dramedy to add to the messy, growing pile.

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