Hello everyone, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. I actually didn’t get to any noteworthy films this week, but that’s largely because I’ve been devoting most of my free time to two acclaimed TV shows, both of which I attempted and failed to finish once before, and both of which I’m determined to complete this time. Powering through arcs of Steven Universe and Breaking Bad at the same time has made for a somewhat unorthodox media diet, but they’re both very interesting in their own ways, and it’s been illuminating getting a better grasp on the whole “prestige TV” genealogy. Meanwhile, Deca-Dence remains excellent, and I’m also continuing my rewatch of Oregairu, which you can follow through my first honest-to-god twitter thread. There’s plenty of media to break down, so let’s not waste any more time, and jump right into the Week in Review!

First off, in the last two weeks, I’ve powered through about a season and a half of Breaking Bad, carrying me from the finale of the second season and all the way into season four. I was initially worried to be picking the show back up two seasons in, but to be brutally honest, very little actually happens in the first two seasons of Breaking Bad. Walt is a largely static character whose flaws are clear from the first episode, and he never learns any lessons from his mistakes (except for the persistent “I guess I gotta hit ‘em harder next time”) – meanwhile, the show’s larger conflicts tend to just sort of marinate from season to season, offering incentives for the characters to engage in reckless, exciting behavior, but rarely changing the core dynamic of the show.

All that is to say is that there is not much for me in Breaking Bad when it’s trying to methodically investigate the emotional lives of its characters, because its characters are fairly static and mostly designed to provoke cliffhanger-friendly ultimatums. Fortunately, as a work of pure, page-turning spectacle, Breaking Bad is a highly watchable and frequently inspired experience. The largely static nature of the show’s conflicts only really hurts when you look at the big picture; in the midst of an episode, the show is very good at maintaining dramatic momentum.

On top of that, the show’s cinematography is excellent, and all of the leads are strong, dynamic actors, meaning they’re frequently able to draw more poignancy out of their circumstances than their scripts would naturally imply. While only the Rian Johnson-directed “Fly,” a gorgeous bottle episode that also possesses the show’s by-far best script, is what I’d qualify as “great television,” Breaking Bad on the whole is consistently filling popcorn entertainment.

Meanwhile, Steven Universe has charmed me just as much the second time through, with a more regular watch schedule working wonders to shepherd me through the continuity-heavy later seasons. Steven Universe’s first season feels like a long summer vacation, as the young “Crystal Gem” Steven slowly learns about the circumstances surrounding his unique existence, but mostly just wanders around Beach City, seeing what his various neighbors are doing. Along with Steven’s human father Greg, he is guided by three alien gems that were friends of his mother – Amethyst, Garnet, and Pearl. Amethyst is a sloppy mess, Pearl is an anxious mess, Garnet mostly has her shit together, and I love them all.

Steven’s early episodes might drag a bit if you’re not accustomed to the light charms of children’s cartoons, but even from the start, the show possesses a fun sense of humor, a clear structural intent, and a willingness to embrace some truly bizarre, monstrous horror conceits. Early on, Steven’s oblivious youth essentially shields him from the strange, often uncomfortable consequences of his actions – but as the show goes on, the cracks in his world’s facade begin to show, and his would-be protectors reveal they have far less control than he might hope.

Eventually, the show transforms as Steven’s responsibilities and place in his world do, with the emotionally generous Steven shifting from a dependent to one of the few people holding his family together. Steven Universe explores depression and anxiety, self-loathing, gender identity, the mechanics of both toxic and healthy relationships, and a great deal else, using its rich and deeply wounded characters to tell stories ranging from the heartbreaking and personal to the fantastical and hilarious.

Within the first season, my own favorite moment comes when Steven, wishing to regain the trust of the gems, demands a “test” of his abilities – and then soon learns the obstacle course they construct for him is fake, and basically impossible to fail. However, while spying on his three moms discussing the test, he learns the true purpose of this exercise: knowing that Steven has been knocked down for his failures, they’re simply hoping to give him an easy win, as a way of showing how proud they are. And so Steven, swallowing his own anxieties regarding his worthiness as his mother’s heir, puts on a big show of saying how much fun he had with the test, and how confident he now feels. Steven Universe is full of moments of emotional clarity and genuine kindness like that; it’s a smart, pretty, and altogether lovely little show.

Finally, Deca-Dence reached what feels like the conclusion of its first arc, as Natsume and her fellow warriors fought valiantly to at last definitively defeat the Gadol menace. Deca-Dence’s remarkable production was more than up to the task of animating a battle intended to read as its entire world’s gamified climax; both the early battle against the fog-spewing Gadol and later clashes with the final behemoth were brought to life through stunning displays of animator acumen, more than validating Yuzuru Tachikawa’s ambitious recruiting efforts. The show’s ability to evoke a sense of mythic scale is second to none, and the production team seem to understand that for messy, visceral fights like this, only traditionally animated monsters will do.

And yet, as always, all of this episode’s theatrics were confined to a theater that ensured they were less than meaningless. I’m not sure any show this year has captured the feeling of living in 2020 quite like Natsume turning towards the rising sun, exhausted, and seeing all of her efforts have been invalidated by a fresh fleet of new monsters. With the veil having been at least momentarily lifted, I’m eager to see how this show’s two worlds finally meet.