For people asking whether or not they should watch the entirety of "Breaking Bad" before seeing this film, the answer, in short, is yes. There is much in "El Camino" to captivate the interest of those who haven't embraced the famous, five-season methamphetamine epic, but you may still be somewhat lost. The entire film focuses on Jesse Pinkman's consternation (and, eventually, deliverance), and without knowing him as fully as "Breaking Bad" has illustrated, you will at times just be following a PTSD-ridden adult with scars on his face.
As a stand-alone piece, "El Camino" suffers from this. The film is tied directly to its predecessor, and while it cannot exist without the TV show, the reverse does not apply. At the end of the day, this is a crowd-pleaser - one that is completely unnecessary, but that satisfies anyways, as long as you're a fan. Luckily, the filmmakers understood this. It received a Netflix release instead of theater distribution, it features a narrow-scoped story, and the words "A Breaking Bad Movie" are literally in the title. This self-awareness liberates the film from having to be some revelatory character study that can be shown to the masses. It is an add-on; a brief dessert if you so love Vince Gilligan's style.
To be sure, "El Camino" is still a well-made film. Gilligan wrote and directed it, with his deft understanding of all the characters involved and keen eye for a good shot. It is also a great personal joy to revisit the scenic vista of the great Southwest, and the cinematography that has come to be associated with the Breaking Bad universe always aims to enchant - or, in some more suspenseful cases, intimidate. I felt palpable dread on multiple occasions as Jesse traversed his new hyperattentive world, one which is out to get him at every turn. At other times, I could sigh at the rustic, cantaloupe-colored deserts we've learned to distrust so much, deserts which make bold reappearances here. I would also venture to say that every appearance of a known character was pulled off with tact and grace; even with the cameo of a particularly special person, there were no groans to be had.
Now, the man himself, our Captain Cook - Aaron Paul as Jesse Pinkman. He's a star with serious ability, and graduating from supporting character to lead role suits him well. He will play curiously with an insect, even after all the torture and loss he's experienced, reflecting Jesse's soft internal nature. He will also kill, with extreme reluctance, in order to survive. It doesn't come across as the smoothest character examination in recent history, but it's believable, and, perhaps more importantly, consistent with the meth cook we've come to root so hard for. The film does not, however, try to build on new storylines. Instead, it closes ties, and feels like a 120-minute addition to the original "Breaking Bad" finale. Because of this, I predict nobody will talk about "El Camino" years from now, or even in the next few months. It just wasn't a groundbreaking film in any sense of the word. Given this, would I say that Vince Gilligan achieved the maximum potential for the film he WAS creating? Maybe. I guess we'll never know. There is no bad taste in my mouth, but no lasting impression either. It was just... Decent.
6.5/10 for the enjoyable vasectomy of Jesse Pinkman's story.
As a stand-alone piece, "El Camino" suffers from this. The film is tied directly to its predecessor, and while it cannot exist without the TV show, the reverse does not apply. At the end of the day, this is a crowd-pleaser - one that is completely unnecessary, but that satisfies anyways, as long as you're a fan. Luckily, the filmmakers understood this. It received a Netflix release instead of theater distribution, it features a narrow-scoped story, and the words "A Breaking Bad Movie" are literally in the title. This self-awareness liberates the film from having to be some revelatory character study that can be shown to the masses. It is an add-on; a brief dessert if you so love Vince Gilligan's style.
To be sure, "El Camino" is still a well-made film. Gilligan wrote and directed it, with his deft understanding of all the characters involved and keen eye for a good shot. It is also a great personal joy to revisit the scenic vista of the great Southwest, and the cinematography that has come to be associated with the Breaking Bad universe always aims to enchant - or, in some more suspenseful cases, intimidate. I felt palpable dread on multiple occasions as Jesse traversed his new hyperattentive world, one which is out to get him at every turn. At other times, I could sigh at the rustic, cantaloupe-colored deserts we've learned to distrust so much, deserts which make bold reappearances here. I would also venture to say that every appearance of a known character was pulled off with tact and grace; even with the cameo of a particularly special person, there were no groans to be had.
Now, the man himself, our Captain Cook - Aaron Paul as Jesse Pinkman. He's a star with serious ability, and graduating from supporting character to lead role suits him well. He will play curiously with an insect, even after all the torture and loss he's experienced, reflecting Jesse's soft internal nature. He will also kill, with extreme reluctance, in order to survive. It doesn't come across as the smoothest character examination in recent history, but it's believable, and, perhaps more importantly, consistent with the meth cook we've come to root so hard for. The film does not, however, try to build on new storylines. Instead, it closes ties, and feels like a 120-minute addition to the original "Breaking Bad" finale. Because of this, I predict nobody will talk about "El Camino" years from now, or even in the next few months. It just wasn't a groundbreaking film in any sense of the word. Given this, would I say that Vince Gilligan achieved the maximum potential for the film he WAS creating? Maybe. I guess we'll never know. There is no bad taste in my mouth, but no lasting impression either. It was just... Decent.
6.5/10 for the enjoyable vasectomy of Jesse Pinkman's story.