One could figure that Jimmy coming across such clear legal violations could be too convenient for the series’ cunning plotters. However, “RICO” is so eager to portray Jimmy as someone that earns our pity that we do not mind the swift justice. During the course of the episode, he tries to scrounge for paper shredding in the gooey Sandpiper garbage, one of the sole bits of slapstick Better Call Saul has attempted so far. Jimmy also scribbles legal demands on one-ply toilet paper, only to be mocked about his unorthodox efforts by Sandpiper attorney Rick Schweikart (a gloriously glib Dennis Boutsikaris).
Episode director Colin Bucksey, who also helmed “Hero” earlier this season, mines a lot of sympathy for Jimmy through framing him in the distance. As his rusty yellow car approaches the Sandpiper headquarters or as he listens intently to the arguments by that company’s lawyers, Jimmy never owns the frame. He is still an island looking for a support system. The good news is, he finally is getting the admiration (and a well-needed boost) from the brother who has cracked wise about Jimmy in the past.
The one factor that gives this reviewer pause is the rate that Chuck recovers from his phobias and sensitivity, which could feel abridged for the sake of television plotting. Regardless, it also shows a reinvigoration that should give Michael McKean more good scenes as the series continues. The final scene in the arid New Mexico suburb where Chuck behaves normally in the midst of an electro-magnetic environment is, aesthetically, a sharp contrast to the musty hermitage that housed much of the rest of “RICO.” It also brought a newfound clarity to how the brothers see each other, while also serving as a callback to Chuck’s pat-on-the-back, feigned enthusiasm from the cold open. Many scenes from the past few episodes have emphasized dim lighting to mirror the discomfort and lack of mobility of the characters. Chuck’s adjustment outside suggests a brighter future, both in storytelling and aesthetics.
Every week, it seems that the urine-soaked title cards for Better Call Saul – ones that indicate a show with a more wry tone and comic sensibility – are becoming more out of place. Sure, the series has bursts of lighthearted energy from Jimmy’s droll callbacks to popular culture (“Making Soylent Green back there?”) and Odenkirk’s folksy charm. But the snake oil salesman type that stole scenes from underneath an Emmy-winning cast is but a glimmer in the Albuquerque sun. The descent into Saul Goodman cannot be complete until Jimmy McGill, Esquire has reached his peak. To our surprise, a Breaking Bad knock-off is reaching greatness through showing a man’s good side.