“The past is never dead. It's not even past” – William Faulkner

How do you follow up a masterpiece?

We’ve seen many great shows come and go in this so-called Golden Generation of Television, and many folk left pondering that very question. What next? Well, there are a few tried and true options:

1. Retire and live off the hype. You keep up the average and, hey, you’ve got nothing to prove anyway. Let the rookies take the risks.
2. Try repeat the dose with something similar, but not quite the same. New setting, new characters, familiar old themes. Probably won’t be great, but it definitely won’t be terrible.
3. Go in a completely different direction. Break the shackles, give the audience something they won’t expect. It’ll keep you from getting pigeonholed, though it also might suck indiscreetly.
4. Use your newfound clout to follow that passion project you’ve been working on since you started college. Who cares what they’ll think, this one’s for you.

Or there’s that other option. The road less travelled, barely even considered. You take your finished, polished masterpiece, and you spin it off in a new direction. Guaranteed hype, but a huge chance of spoiling all that you’ve achieved so far. Like painting highlights on the Mona Lisa.

This is because the fabled spin-off is one of those antiquated ideas from the old days of network telly. An easy cash flow milked from another show’s success. The realm of sitcom and sundry; the illegitimate child of creativity. Definitely not something that the dedicated, sophisticated geniuses of the HBO & Beyond Era would ever consider.

At least until Vince Gilligan. He’s a man who’s been around the game before, working as a contract writer and paying his dues. Gilligan knows that there’s no guarantee he’ll ever capture that lightning in a bottle that was Breaking Bad ever again, so why not go back to the old well? Why not? He’s found an angle and a purpose for this spin-off, he’s built it as a prequel, and guess what? It’s really, really good.

Oh, man, and it’s all still there. That ol’ magic. From the distinctive direction, the camerawork, the signature perspective shots… to the fascination with crappy cars, moustaches, the unfulfilled lives of middle aged men and hilariously petty criminals. Saul Goodman (it’s all good, man) - or Jimmy McGill as he’s still known at the start of this show - has more than a little in common with season one’s Walter White. The difference being that we know where he’ll end up. We won’t get to see his downfall. This is the story of how a talented but struggling lawyer came to cross fates with The Man Who Would Be Heisenberg.

It’s still all about Mr White. Heisenberg’s shadow stretches far and wide across this unknowing city, even if we probably won’t be seeing Bryan Cranston in this series. Like, a 99% chance we won’t be. And a 95% chance that we won’t see Jesse either. But a familiar Mike the Cleaner pops up briefly in the pilot, which is worth more than a pleasant smile. As does another familiar face from the Breaking Bad run who wasn’t so expected, nor so joyously received.

And that’s where the nature of the prequel comes in. These are all characters that, for better or worse (so… for worse), are defined by their future dealings with Mr White. He is a dark, avenging angel of chaos soon to lead them all to their doom, if not literally then in every other regard. We’ll follow these characters each week, getting in and out of whatever troubles they find themselves in, savouring the small victories and mourning the heavy losses… but we know the path they’ll end up on. We know where that path leads and who stands, dark in sunglasses and a pork pie hat, waiting at its end.

That adds a dark dimension to Better Call Saul that would still be there in parts, but is amplified by the knowledge of what is to come. We know that Saul/Jimmy will live to fight for justice another day, no matter what predicament he finds himself in. We also know that these are the decisions that will alter his fate to the point where he’s working at a Cinnabon in Omaha, Nebraska, moustachioed and fearful of anyone who casts a second glance his way. Living in black and white.

(That’s a cool trick, by the way. The future is in black and white while the past/present - the show takes place in 2002 - exists in Technicolor. It’s the reverse Wizard of Oz.)

Breaking Bad had many full and fleshed out characters, but at its heart it was a study of one man. One broken, desperate man who finally made good on his genius but never knew where to stop. His rise and his fall. A modern day Greek tragedy, a Scarface of the suburbs.

Even after just a couple episodes, Better Call Saul will affect your perception of Breaking Bad. Not in any negative way, in fact probably in exactly the way that Vince Gilligan and Co. want. Walter White finally reunited with his Felina in the finale. He was a badass. He was The Danger. The message of corruption and greed and ego were there throughout the series’ run but it was easy to miss them if you got caught up in it all and honestly how the hell could you not? Walter was a bastard. Seeing these characters in their relatively unspoiled naivety (relative because we all know that Mike Ehrmantraut must’ve gotten his sleeves dirty back in his cop days*) gives you a fresh perspective on how complete the path of destruction was that Mr White left behind him.

(* Which are pre-BCS, so maybe Vince follows this show with a Mike the Cleaner prequel to the prequel? Boom, yes please!)

Saul/Jimmy is the hero of his own story. He’s not a classic hero, he’s just a guy in a tough spot, driven by pride and desperation to… well, to stop taking half measures. A realisation that leads him right into the arms of El Diablo.

Vince Gilligan is clever enough to know that he’ll never get out of the shadow of Breaking Bad. Neither will Better Call Saul, but it doesn’t matter. That’s exactly where it wants to be.