Mad Men Season 7, Episode 1, “Time Zones”

Season 6 ended with Don and Megan’s marriage seemingly on the rocks: Don had completely lost interest in her, and his indifference had driven Megan to the point where she appeared ready to give up as well, especially once he reneged on his promise to move to Los Angeles with her. Thus it is somewhat surprising that Don and Megan begin season 7 in the midst of a seemingly happy routine: Megan lives in Los Angeles, pursuing her acting career, while Don makes time to visit from New York. Had Don and Megan somehow healed the distance between them and recommitted to each other in the time between seasons? Are they really in a happier and healthier place?

Tremé, Season 4, Episode 5: “…To Miss New Orleans”

And so ends David Simon’s latest treatise on the American city. Tremé never had the narrative hooks that drove The Wire, but I never found the show less enthralling for it. The Wire was bleak; it offers little hope at real change and reform, instead showing time and time again that people who wish to do good deeds and effect genuine change are either ground down by their institutions, or are driven out of those institutions altogether, no matter what institution they belong to: the police, dock workers, politicians, educators, newspapermen, and even drug dealers. Tremé was significantly more positive. Certainly, its characters were ground down by institutions. The cops are mostly corrupt, as are the contractors and city officials in charge of restoring New Orleans in the wake of Katrina. But New Orleans also has music. And food. And Mardi Gras. Tremé was never about the failure of the institutions that govern the American city the way The Wire was; instead, it was about how life and culture persevere despite a city’s institutions and other flaws.

Nowhere was this clearer than in the way narrative often took a backseat to other concerns, particularly music. Tremé was always a fabulous showcase for the massive melting pot of New Orleans jazz, featuring scores of real life local musicians, and often lingering on scenes of musical performances well past the point where any other show would have cut away from them. If you found yourself checking your watch during the music scenes, then you were missing a part of the point of the show. Savoring these performances was a crucial part of the pleasure of Tremé, just as much as was watching Antoine shuck and jive his way from gig to gig, or laughing at the feuds and arguments Davis started (and usually lost), or watching LaDonna give someone the stink eye.

Nevertheless, characters were still important. Characters on Tremé persevered in face of adversity, and were even allowed small victories from time to time, which is especially clear if you examine the way many characters grew over the course of the series. Annie goes from a busker to an up-and-coming Nashville musician (even if she has to make some compromises along the way); Janette finally gets her own restaurant off the ground (and thanks to Nelson, she gets to keep her name on it); Delmond comes to terms with his roots, finding a balance between his New York jazz and his New Orleans upbringing; Sonny quits drugs and finds peace with his wife and her Vietnamese family; Antoine finds more meaning than he ever could have imagined in becoming a middle school music teacher; Toni manages to bring down a crooked cop, and even Davis finally matures (if only a little bit).

In the end, Tremé is about what makes New Orleans a special place, in both its charms and its dysfunctions, and this sensibility is captured perfectly in the series’ final scene. The show ends with an image of the makeshift mannequin Davis created at the start of the season to warn motorists of a giant, car-wrecking pothole in the middle of the road. Except now, post-Mardi Gras, the mannequin is covered in beads, feather boas, masks, and other party paraphernalia. It's a perfect synecdoche for the show's take on New Orleans culture: just like any other city, there are a lot of messed up and broken things, but the people who live there still make it their own, turning even its idiosyncrasies into a vibrant part of city life. The pothole is no longer a pothole, but a celebration of the things that make New Orleans unlike any other place in America. It’s a great end to a great show.

Other thoughts:

- Nelson was always somewhat of a disaster profiteer, but I'm glad he was able to win one for the angels in the end, selling Janette's asshole ex-partner a stake in the DOA jazz center in exchange for Janette's rights to name her restaurant after herself.

- The scene in the penultimate episode where Davis tries to get Nelson to invest in Davis' idea to open a jazz club was hilarious for many reasons (Davis' enthusiasm, Nelson's incredulity), but I laughed hardest at the scene's conclusion, when they adjourn their meeting and each head in different directions, Nelson getting into his hot little sports car, and Davis hopping on his bicycle. The two shots of them leaving are completely unnecessary for conveying the idea that the scene is over, but their different means of transportation speak volumes about the differences between their characters. Nevertheless, they were still able to form an unlikely bond through their love of Janette's food and New Orleans jazz. Food and music are each a hell of a thing.

- A sad end for Albert, but I enjoyed all of his and Delmond's scenes tremendously. It got quite dusty in my living room when Delmond played the song he had been working on for Albert.

- It's tough to choose, but Antoine is probably my favorite of the show's characters. David Simon is great at crafting characters that I simply want to spend time with from week to week (which is another part of the reason I wasn't too bothered by the show's lack of interest in plot). I greatly enjoyed the way he grew to love his students more than his own music career these past seasons. Quite a sea change in his character, but he never lost any of his swagger. He just grew a heart to accompany it, and in the process, became the man Desiree probably always knew he could be (even if he still has somewhat of a wandering eye).

- LaDonna's story is the only one that really seemed to peter out without much closure. She seemed to become more of an ancillary figure in the lives of Albert, Delmond, and Antoine. Although at least she got to reopen her bar.

- There were a number of nice moments in the final musical montage (including Terry railing against his sons buying Colts jerseys while he sports a Saints jersey), but my favorite was probably Annie telling off her producer when he tried to interfere with her recording session. She offers him her violin and clearly mocks him by asking something like, "You want to play it?" Way to stand up for yourself, Annie.

Breaking Bad, Season 5, Episode 16 “Felina”

Wow. The final episode of this magnificent series is nothing short of a masterpiece. There are many reasons for its greatness, the first being that it neatly resolves all of the series’ plotlines, both longstanding and recent. In the end, Walt wins. He accomplishes most of his goals, or he does his best to see that they are carried out: he manufactures a way for Flynn to receive and even possibly accept the money Walt has left (even if he can ensure neither that Flynn will use it as Walt wishes, nor that its source will remain concealed)*; he settles scores with both Lydia and with the Aryans; he gets to say goodbye to his wife and daughter; he frees Jesse and makes a sort of peace with him; he dies on his own terms, and most importantly, he gets to keep what has always been most important to him - his reputation, and in turn, his pride. I’m sad Breaking Bad has to end, but an ending this rich and rewarding is worth much more than being unable to enjoy more new episodes.

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 15, “Granite State”

I thought last week’s episode went about as far as Breaking Bad would go in destroying the lives of its characters, but the penultimate episode has proven me wrong, as this week, things fall to pieces even further: Walt must flee New Mexico and hide out in a cabin in New Hampshire; he loses what little connection he thought might still remain between himself and his family, as well as what little pride he had left in his accomplishments, and he also inadvertently invites into Skyler's life the threat of danger that so terrorized her when she first began to learn about Walt’s life as a meth cook.

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 14, “Ozymandias”

Many points of no return are finally reached in this week’s amazing episode: Walt finally tells Jesse he watched Jane die; Skyler finally listens to her conscience and breaks with Walt; Walt Jr. finally finds out the truth about his dad; Walt finally gets found out by the greater law enforcement community, and he also finally has stripped away from him the last vestiges of the illusion that he can survive the consequences of his actions with his family intact. These were plot points I hoped and suspected that Breaking Bad would hit eventually, but despite the show’s excellent track record, I was still unprepared for how stellar (and devastatingly) they would be handled. This episode is unequivocally the best of the season so far, and perhaps the very best of the entire series.

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 13, “To’hajiilee”

This whole final season (in fact, much of the entire series) is like a five or six-way chess game, with characters making moves and counter-moves and thinking three turns ahead. Or perhaps a better analogy is that Walt is playing multiple games of chess at once, like a Bobby Fischer prodigy: currently, Walt’s game with Skyler involves keeping her placated by containing Jesse’s rage; his game with Jesse has always involved manipulating Jesse into doing what Walt wants; his game with Hank revolves around not getting caught, and he put Hank in check two weeks ago with his false video confession. This week, Hank and Jesse are maneuvering the pieces to try to nail Walt with evidence, while Walt sets up a defense, trying to flush out Jesse by contacting Andrea and Brock. Walt’s play with Andrea is a good one, and probably would have worked too, but Hank has foreseen it, and has preemptively put Jesse’s communication with the world on lockdown, snuffing out the threat.

Breaking Bad Season 5, Episode 12, "Rabid Dog"

This is a sad episode for Walt, possibly one of the saddest of the series, as it shows how thoroughly Walt has lost the trust of nearly everyone to whom he’s closest. He’s manipulated everyone so fully for so long that no one trusts him anymore, even when he’s being genuine. He’s a bizarro version of the boy who cried wolf (bizarro because in his case, the lie is that everything has been normal, rather than calamitous). Admittedly, Walt has been lying a lot lately, as evidenced by the song and dance he does for Skyler and Walt Jr. when he realizes he’ll be unable to completely hide Jesse’s break-in from them. He pours gas on his clothes, splashes it in his car, and then makes up a half-baked story about spilling gas on himself at a gas station. The story isn’t even good enough to fool Walt Jr., who senses Walt is lying, but doesn’t understand why (he thinks it’s to cover up for passing out again). Skyler sees right through the entire story, however, and when she forces Walt to tell her the truth, she encourages him to kill Jesse. Saul does the same thing earlier in the episode, and each time, Walt is shocked and dismayed by the suggestion.