Breaking Dad
Brad Gyori / Tribeca Flashpoint Media Arts Academy
Remember when TV dads were strong, intelligent and wise? Programs such as Father Knows Best (1954-1960), The Donna Reed Show (1958-1966), Leave it to Beaver (1957-1963), Bachelor Father (1957-1962), Make Room for Daddy/The Danny Thomas Show (1953-1965) and The Andy Griffith Show (1960-1968) featured father figures that elicited the admiration, identification and emulation of young male viewers. These squeaky clean, all-knowing patriarchs were whitewashed caricatures of paternal poise. Unfortunately, such uncritical celebrations of fatherhood came at the expense of maternal figures. Early television represented women in a manner that was often condescending, if not openly sexist.
By the 1970s, the rise of the counterculture and second wave feminism challenged patriarchal commonplaces. Within a decade, these social forces had altered the root assumptions of televisual discourse. Today, young men and women are portrayed in a slightly modified way. While young female characters remain sex objects, young males are increasingly objectified as well. A far more striking change is the radical inversion of traditional gender roles regarding older male and female characters. For the last five decades, negative maternal stereotypes have been rejected and positive maternal stereotypes have been championed. Meanwhile, the once flawless patriarch has become TV’s buffoon of choice, culminating in the character of Homer Simpson, a simple-minded locus of appetites and self-involvement who makes Falstaff look like Prince Hal in comparison.
For decades, TV dads have been the ultimate “fair game,” targets deserving mockery and willing and able to accept it. This may have helped to level the playing field and create more equality and opportunities for female workers, who have certainly made remarkable strides since the 1970s. Yet along with many powerful socioeconomic forces, popular representations of fictional patriarchs have likely contributed to the current crisis of masculinity with many real world and televisual repercussions.
Enter “Walter White.” Even the name is as bland as boiled celery. So how can this middle-of-the-road, middle class father figure possibly be transformed into a badass super villain? The idea sounded improbable at first, even ludicrous, yet that is exactly the challenge Breaking Bad creator Vince Gilligan set for himself when initially conceptualizing AMC’s critically lauded series. In 2011, Gilligan told the New York Times that the original goal was to turn “Mr. Chips into Scarface.”
In the show’s debut episode, viewers are introduced to a familiar image of the television patriarch: a bumbling doofus, incapable of properly providing for this family, weak, ineffectual, comically inadequate, married to a feisty intelligent, attractive wife, who can be a bit overbearing at times, but hey, someone has to wear the pants! Actor Brian Cranston had played a similar role in the Fox series Malcolm in the Middle. By casting him in Breaking Bad, Gilligan provided an intertextual-shorthand for viewers, allowing them to instantly recognize this sweet but foolish figure. The portrait is quickly skewed, however, when in the same episode, Walt is diagnosed with cancer and something inside of him snaps. Soon, this underachieving high school chemistry teacher begins manufacturing crystal methamphetamine and his alter ego, “Heisenberg,” is born. The name is an allusion to the German physicist, but it is also a nod to his famous “uncertainty principal,” a theory about the fickle nature of perception. Werner Heisenberg famously asserted that the closer we observe one aspect of a quantum phenomenon, the less we can know about its other characteristics. In other words, the very act of focusing on a single characteristic prevents us from seeing the whole picture. In a similar sense, the more Breaking Bad’s narrative pins down Walter White as silly and ineffectual, the more the nature of his reckless outlaw bravado seems to elude us, and yet…from another perspective, it all seems perfectly inevitable.
In 2010, two years after Breaking Bad’s debut, the Atlantic reported that the recent “Great Recession” had cost Americans eight million jobs and that over 3/4ths of the newly unemployed were men. That same year—for the first time in U.S. history—more women were employed than men. The Atlantic additionally projected that the trend was likely to continue because for every two men who receive a B.A. annually, three women do the same. What’s more, of the fifteen U.S. job categories projected to grow the most in the next decade, women primarily occupy all but two. The postindustrial economy appears to value traits traditionally associated with women, including social intelligence, open communication, and multi-tasking.
Nonetheless, in some quarters, male privilege is as entrenched as ever. Above the glass ceiling, the immense wealth of the billionaire boys club radically skews income statistics. Male executives continue to horde power and thwart the advancement of female executives. The imbalance is so great that the average woman is told that she makes 30% less than the “average man.” Via this number crunching slight of hand, wealthy males share all of the blame but very little cash with the vast majority of working men who inhabit a very different landscape below the glass ceiling.
As familiar gender roles continue to turn upside down, the American patriarch has good reason to identify with his bumbling television counterpart. He too is a failure on many fronts. He fails to support his family with a single income. He fails to increase his wages apace with the skyrocketing cost of living. If he loses his job and becomes “Mr. Mom,” he will be stigmatized as less than masculine. And if he is fair-minded enough to care about gender equality, he is expected to call himself a “feminist.” Still, he is unlikely to complain about any of this because that would seem “unmanly.”
So what is the appropriate response? Retreating to one’s “man cave” and accepting the Neanderthal-like male caricatures served up by reruns of Home Improvement and The Man Show? Lashing back with the reactionary zeal of Rush Limbaugh? Rejecting fatherhood altogether and joining the deadbeat dad epidemic? Clinging to adolescence, like the Peter Panish man-boys cleverly lampooned by the films of Judd Apatow? Or maybe it’s better to simply dive into the heart of darkness and accept the role of ultimate evil personified? Given a choice between feckless fool and criminal kingpin, Walter White increasingly opts for the latter.
This is certainly not “your father’s father figure.” In fact, it is hard to imagine early television viewers identifying with Walter White in any respect. The undisputed head of a single income household would not know what to make of this patriarchal anti-hero’s slide into darkest villainy. He would likely view Walt as nothing more than a freakish aberration, a creature whose manhood is easily threatened and whose pride is constantly injured, clearly suffering from terrible self-esteem issues. So why are contemporary male viewers so fascinated by this character?
Breaking Bad’s narrative structure centers on two opposing trajectories: Walt’s descent into hell and Heisnberg’s rise to power. This central paradox is a key ingredient of the show’s addictive appeal. Male viewers who’ve been downsized, marginalized, laid off and underemployed may experience more than moral indignation when watching the show. Consider a key moment from episode six, season four. Walt’s criminal life and domestic life are beginning to converge, and his wife, Skyler, fearing the threat of eminent violence, begs him to consider the safety of his family. Walt responds by asking: “Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see?” These are ontological questions, cutting to the very core of his being. They speak to, and perhaps for, a generation of American males searching for some type of renewed social significance. Walter continues, “Do you know how much I make a year? Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work, a business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up, disappears. It ceases to exist without me.” Walter isn’t exaggerating. He actually has become a significant economic force, albeit through illicit means. Next comes a staggering revelation that resonates with the shows central paradox, equal parts shameful confession and prideful boast. “No, you clearly don’t know who you are talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I am the danger.” When Walter White, the disempowered, disrespected high school chemistry teacher, speaks these words, he is, in some respects speaking for a largely male audience eager to reclaim some notion of self-respect by any means necessary.
Breaking Bad’s high ratings, multiple Emmy wins and critical plaudits indicate that this gangster-patriarch strongly resonates with today’s audience, especially the men (like AMC’s other top series, Mad Men, Breaking Bad has a primarily male demographic). Thus, long after Walter White has imploded into a fireball of inglorious self-loathing, characters like him will surely continue to colonize the popular—and the private—imagination.
Image Credits:
1. Father Knows Best
2. Homer Simpson
3. Walter White
Please feel free to comment.
This is great. As a father, I’m not one to bemoan the loss of the father’s of the 50s and 60s, nor care too much about the idiot fathers on TV that are there to get smacked in the nuts for laughs, I know they are both falsehoods and I don’t identify with either. But Walter white is something different. I feel his pain. I feel the pull to bang my chest and kill antelope myself to feed it to my family like he does, but I know I am limited by the society I live in and the way I was raised, and will always, at some level, feel bad asking for help. Luckily, I’m not as stupid as walter and I can ask for help and accept it when I need it instead of doing unthinkable things. I appreciate this contextualization of Walter White because it allows me to find a place as a father in a society that, as you point out, has learned to largely ignore our contributions.
While I agree with much of your thesis about the series and the way it taps into the overarching sense of male angst that has been building in America since the late 1970s and has only increased since the 1990s I disagree with your reading that the show offers men a positive outlet for their frustrations. Instead I would argue that Walter’s transformation is illustrative of how hegemonic masculinity continues to dictate gender norms and in the process harm all men’s hopes of embracing the positive qualities of feminism and including them in their own lives. As Michael Kimmel has repeatedly pointed out this notion of American masculinity based on stoicism, control, and violence is one that we must challenge and ultimately eradicate if there is to ever truly be a sense of gender equality in this nation.
The male ego is something that is difficult to break, which is something that is clearly shown in the show Breaking Bad. Although Walter White should never be considered anything close to a role model, you can’t deny that his intentions were honorable, which has started to become a conundrum in the male society today. Times have changed where the male figure doesn’t have to be the main bread winner, but male ego is a strong presence, and leaves men in a position where making rash decisions could be the only method of one retaining his honor. This article explains how Breaking Bad personifies this well, but in a very extreme manner. Not very many people well established in society would turn to cooking meth to get by instead of taking help, but in the end of the day asking another man for directions while lost in something no man enjoys doing. That is why Breaking Bad gets so many male viewers, because as men we like to know that if everything went wrong, we’d be able to make something right out of it in the end.
I think the transformation the TV Dad has endured throughout the last fifty years of TV history culminates in the character of Walter White. His dual personality and the dichotomy between his journey downward in his personal life and his rise to the top of the drug world makes for excellent drama. Before reading this article I had never really thought of how the TV dad has changed over the year, but it was very interesting to think of how the modern male can be in such a state of identity crisis. Walter’s refusal for to ask for help illustrates the most classic of dramatic flaws, Hubris. The shift from strong TV dad’s to the ever in crisis modern dad is a fascinating thing to research.
There is more to Walter’s backstory in terms of his quest to reclaim his position as head of the household. Not only does he struggle with the more recent social and economic inversion of traditional gender roles, he also experiences a personal struggle as a human being. His bout with cancer and the fact that he lost his stake in a major corporation that he helped develop both threaten a sort of natural right that he feels entitled to. As a highly intellectual person, his sense of social entitlement goes beyond issues of male and female. Sure, there is a part of him that feels emasculated, but he was born with a mind that is worthy of more than cleaning cars for peanuts. He knows this and lives with the bitter resentment of regret. He feels that his superior knowledge of chemistry is being grossly misused and knows that his menial life could have been more fulfilling had he chose another path.
As a human being, having cancer heightens his world perception and provides him with a greater sense of urgency. He wants to get more out of his life, not just financially, but emotionally. Walter realizes that the cancer will kill him soon and if he continues to live the way he has been, meagerly and undervalued as an individual, there is no point in fighting to live at all. He wants to make his mark on the world but his decisions have led him to achieve this in a less popularly desired manner.
Although I agree that certain threats to his masculinity such as not being able to provide for his family, not being assertive, and failing to make a man out of his son are legitimate driving factors for his behavior, I feel that there is more to his character’s wants and needs on a human level than just merely repositioning himself in a more traditional gender role.
Walter White is seemingly much more than rebuttal to the “typical TV dad.” While he certainly strays off the path of TV dads in the past, Walter represents more of the struggle of the fading American dream, in a much bleaker reality that we currently live in. In a world of winners and losers, Walter refuses to be that “loser” by any means necessary. Life has beaten him down mentally, physically and spiritually and it has turned him into something frightening. Ultimately Walt is the transformation of the darker side of our capitalistic society, the ugly epitome of the “self-made man.” Asking for help would be an act of cowardice, admitting weakness is unacceptable and there is no such thing as “too much.” The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and Walt’s aspirations certainly go along with that saying.
Brian above disagrees with the claim that “the show offers men a positive outlet for their frustrations.” I also disagree with that claim, which is why I didn’t make it. What I said is, “Breaking Bad’s high ratings, multiple Emmy wins and critical plaudits indicate that this gangster-patriarch strongly resonates with today’s audience, especially the men.” This isn’t a value judgment, it’s a conclusion regarding the show’s critical and popular reception related to ratings, demographics, awards and reviews. Actually, although I am a fan of the show, I do find its portrayal of the modern patriarch unsettling, which is why I chose to write this piece. It’s interesting that a reader should assume I am uncritically celebrating Walter White’s decent into hell as a “positive outlet” for male frustrations. Is Brian seeing something that I’m not? Or conjuring something that isn’t there? And if so, why?
This is a fascinating read! I, myself, have identified greatly with the Walter White character as I am struggling to secure a career path in a crippled economy while supporting a loved one who is employed herself. It seems that the story of Walter White is a metaphor for the grueling uphill battle for the current young generation, who struggle with unemployment that leads to a emasculating state of being.
Another important element of the show is Walter’s brother in law, Hank Schrader, who represents these very “above the glass ceiling” elites you mentioned in your article. He works for not only the very force that could destroy Walter, but for the government itself. Despite acting sympathetic toward Walter’s problems, he seems to care far more about his own family’s well-being and wealth and the power of his position in life. Much like the dynamic contrast between the wealthy and those below the glass ceiling.
TV HISTORY CTCS 504
Flow Comment #1
Brad Gyori begins “Breaking Dad” by reminiscing about a TV time long past when fathers were “strong, intelligent and wise,” and “elicited the admiration, identification and emulation of young male viewers” — but not at any cost, as the female characters’ portrayal was often “condescending, if not openly sexist.” Gyori’s focus is on examining the degradation of the patriarchal male figure over time and the championing of maternal stereotypes. He highlights two fathers: Homer Simpson (“TV’s buffoon of choice”) and Walter White (TV’s “middle-class father figure … transformed into a badass super villain”).
Gyori describes “Walter White as a “bumbling doofus.” This description was used to compare Mr. White to Homer Simpson; however, I argue that there is a significant and notable contrast between these two characters. Walter White is not a “bumbling doofus,” but is portrayed complex, intelligent teacher and a hardworking, committed father. While Mr. White does transform into a villain (or an egotistical drug dealer with an inflated sense of pride), I would say that this character description it isn’t that black and white. The audience is slowly introduced to this alter ego over time, providing us with situations where we can feel compassion for his character.
According to Gyori, Executive Producer Vince Gilligan said he was looking to turn “Mr. Chips into Scarface.” But the way that this transition occurs adds complexity to Breaking Bad. During a Q&A session with Howard Rosenberg at University of Southern California’s Television Symposium in the Fall of 2012, writer and producer of Breaking Bad, Sam Catlin, emphasized how the key to this transition is for the audience to understand where Walter White is coming from so that this character isn’t demonized but rather the audience feels empathetic toward him. This series allows us to see the complex nature of the human experience that doesn’t always offer easily answered solutions to complicated moral and economical dilemmas. Gyori says “in fact, it is hard to imagine early television viewers identifying with Walter White in any respect;” however, according to Sam Catlin, the whole point is for the audience to be able to identify with Walter White in order to empathize with his cleverly calculated but morally degradable decisions.
I would like to add to Gyori’s discussion by offering an analysis of the degradation of father figures in television. This degradation mirrors a larger trend toward the increased portrayal of controversial characters in television historically sparked by technological innovation. From cable to remote to VCR to DVR, the economic model, production and audience viewership of television has been changed by these technologies. Beginning with the shift from a sponsorship model to one that offers multiple commercial advertisement spots, this transition allowed the companies and brands that funded the production of television to no longer be directly associated with the content, giving the networks an increased freedom to produce more controversial content. The proliferation of multiple channels across a variety of distribution platforms in the Post-Network Era contributed to an ever increasing niching and narrowcasting of audiences, allowing for a variety of interests to be addressed across hundreds of channels. Those patriarchal familial constructions, while initially a staple of broadcast situational domestic sitcoms, ruptured into a various array of characters who complicated traditional gender roles.
Since Sopranos in 1999, television networks and advertisers saw that a male anti-hero could attract large audiences. With Don Draper in Mad Men and Walter White in Breaking Bad, we are able to watch complex father figures. It is because of its subscription model that HBO was able to create anti-hero Tony Soprano, as HBO is able to seek critical acclaim instead of having to cater to advertisers’ taste.
While Gyori’s post contributes to a very much needed discussion of gender role transitions in television, attributing some of this move to the “Great Recession” and increased male unemployment, I argue that historical technological innovations paved the way to further character experimentation in television. There is an ever-mounting demand for “new” characters and content because of the increased competition and lengthening air times for channels. Historically, the television sitcom needed to cater to traditional notions of fatherliness since advertisers wouldn’t want to sponsor or monetarily support such controversial depictions of families for sake of positive brand associations. Now, power has shifted to a content-seeking audience whose ratings show their interest in viewing the Tony Sopranos, Don Drapers and Walter Whites.
While there are more controversial father figures depicted in television, I also would like to point out that there are also still positive portrayals of male characters on TV who aren’t stereotypical: think Parenthood’s Crosby Braverman (Dax Shepard), for example. So while Gyori in “Breaking Dad,” begins his discussion by reminiscing about a TV time long past when fathers were “strong, intelligent and wise,” a time when “father figures elicited the admiration, identification and emulation of young male viewers,” I would argue these fathers still exist, but because of technology offering multiple channels and distribution platforms, television can also offer unstereotypical, complex father figures.