How to Watch Television, Second Edition. Группа авторов
upon the imitative tradition primarily by evoking memories of Breaking Bad, reminding viewers of the Albuquerque setting, echoing themes of morality and character change, and reintroducing two familiar faces. Beyond the title character, we first get a glimpse of an old character at the fourteen-minute mark—Mike Ehrmantraut appears in an unpredictable locale, working as the parking lot attendant at the Albuquerque courthouse. This appearance provokes numerous questions for fans of the earlier series, as it seems far from what we’d learned of Mike’s backstory as a police officer, and how we’d come to know him as an enforcer and investigator for a criminal drug enterprise. Although this is Mike’s only scene in the episode, actor Jonathan Banks’s name in the opening credits signals that the character will serve a major role in the ongoing series. The second character returning from Breaking Bad is more of a surprise, appearing only in the last moment of the pilot: Jimmy is held at gunpoint by Tuco Salamanca, a minor but memorable character from Breaking Bad’s early seasons. This reveal concluding the episode certainly triggers a wave of fan memories of Tuco and excitement to see his backstory before his death early in the original series, and feels like a direct continuation of the tone and genre of Breaking Bad’s crime story, rather than Better Call Saul’s originality as a character-driven legal drama.
Other moments in Saul evoke Breaking Bad through subtle parallels and continuities, primarily targeting hardcore fans who obsess over televisual details; such commitment to “forensic fandom” is a hallmark of narratively complex television. For instance, Jimmy meets clients at the diner Loyala’s, an Albuquerque location that had appeared twice on Breaking Bad. The episode also provides parallels between Jimmy and Walter White, with actions echoing across the series—Jimmy’s car windshield is fractured in an accident, evoking a repeating Breaking Bad trope where Walter’s windshield was cracked three different times throughout the series. Similarly, Jimmy kicks and dents a chrome garbage can when leaving his brother’s law firm, echoing Walter punching and denting a metallic paper towel dispenser. These minor parallels could be seen as formulaic rehashes from the original series, but they function more to convey character parallels and themes, entering the more prestigious realm of “allusion.” Such intertextual references can be regarded as either lowbrow imitations or highbrow storytelling devices to subtly convey meanings—or both. Saul alludes to its own imitative history, as Jimmy quotes an iconic monologue from the 1970s film Network, an acclaimed critique of the television industry’s lowbrow appeals and formulaic content: “You have meddled with the primal forces of nature!” By referencing Network, Saul winks to knowing viewers by acknowledging the commercial motivation of a spinoff, while also proclaiming its own cultural legitimacy through allusion to a celebrated film.
As of this writing, Better Call Saul has run for four seasons and established itself as one of television’s most acclaimed dramas on its own terms, rather than just as a spinoff. It won a prestigious Peabody Award in 2017, one of only a handful of scripted spinoffs to accomplish that feat, along with Frasier and Lou Grant. Many critics and fans contend that it has eclipsed the original as their favorite series, suggesting that the shadow of imitation can be escaped. As co-creator Vince Gilligan recounts, the goal was just “to not be AfterM*A*S*H. That’s about as high as we had set our sights: We wanted to not embarrass ourselves. We wanted our spinoff series to not take anything away from the original, to not leave a bad taste in the mouth of the fans of the original.”7 Beyond accomplishing this modest ambition, it is clear that Better Call Saul has created true originality through imitation, forging the unique hybrid of the prestige spinoff.
FURTHER READING
Mittell, Jason. Complex TV: The Poetics of Contemporary Television Storytelling. New York: New York University Press, 2015.
Newman, Michael Z., and Elana Levine. Legitimating Television: Media Convergence and Cultural Status. New York: Routledge, 2011.
Wanat, Matt, and Leonard Engel, eds. Breaking Down Breaking Bad: Critical Perspectives. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2016.
NOTES
1 1. Quoted in Fred Allen, “All the Sincerity in Hollywood …”: Selections from the Writings of Radio’s Legendary Comedian, ed. Stuart Hample (Golden, CO: Fulcrum, 2001), 64.
2 2. Todd Gitlin, Inside Prime Time (original 1983; revised edition, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), 71.
3 3. Ibid., 69.
4 4. June Thomas, “Why the Saul Goodman Spin-off Is a Bad Idea,” Slate, April 9, 2013, https://slate.com.
5 5. Michael Arbeiter, “‘Breaking Bad’ Saul Spin-off: Worst Idea or Best Idea?” Hollywood.com, April 9, 2013, www.hollywood.com.
6 6. Alan Sepinwall, “Better Call Saul Creators on the ‘Purposely Sh—ty’ Opening Title,” UProxx, March 16, 2015, https://uproxx.com.
7 7. Quoted in Alan Sepinwall, “A Candid Conversation with Vince Gilligan on ‘Better Call Saul,’” Rolling Stone, August 3, 2018, www.rollingstone.com.
2
Empire
Fashioning Blackness
RACQUEL GATES
Abstract: The popular television show Empire has attracted a huge following for its over-the-top storylines, memorable characters, catchy music, and distinctive fashions. In particular, Taraji P. Henson’s character “Cookie” stands out, partly for her character’s emotional complexity, as well as for her eye-catching fashions, which blend haute couture with signature markers of urban style. In this essay, Racquel Gates analyzes the ways that fashion on Empire conveys important information about race, class, and politics both on television and in American culture more broadly.
When the predominantly African American, primetime soap opera Empire premiered on FOX in 2015, the show immediately pulled viewers into its world of lush visuals, contemporary music, and dramatic storylines. An hour-long drama that focuses on the fictitious Lyon family and their music industry empire, Empire draws inspiration from the aesthetic and narrative conventions of predominantly white 1980s soap operas like Dallas and Dynasty, and the sensational plots and characters on contemporary African American cast reality television shows. Moreover, Empire’s representations of African American lives and experiences are connected to a much longer, complicated history of black representation on television and in film. These influences matter, as they establish Empire at the intersection of several related, yet uniquely distinct, cultural reference points, each of which carries its own code for referencing blackness and making blackness legible to viewers.
This essay focuses on one particular aspect of Empire: fashion. From the very first episode of the series, the fabulous and extravagant clothing worn by the characters on the show has captivated fans, journalists, and style bloggers. In particular, the over-the-top fashions worn by the character Cookie—the family matriarch played by actress Taraji Henson—have inspired the most attention. Yet fashion is more than just adornment on Empire. Instead, the clothing and accessories that various characters wear provide important information about their personality traits, serving as a kind of narrative shorthand for viewers. Indeed, mise-en-scène in the form of costuming serves this purpose throughout television, as a way of conveying important information without sacrificing limited storytelling time. We might think of King of Queens character Doug’s parcel carrier uniform, a constant reminder of the character’s, and the show’s, representation of a working-class identity. Likewise, Regine’s wigs on Living Single served as a visual marker of the character’s vanity. In addition to providing significant character information, the fashion on Empire connects the show to other black cultural reference points, such as Motown in the