Nippy

I think “Nippy” loses something by being shot in black and white. Stylistically, there are good reasons for it. It maintains consistency with Gene’s other appearances. It highlights a dissonance between the Gene who we know to live in constant fear of having his identity discovered and the Gene of this episode, who demonstrates that Jimmy’s con-man instincts were dormant but unquestionably still alive. And it allows for a monochrome twist on the signature Better Call Saul montage by way of the joyous Cinnabon sequence. But at a basic sensory level, leaving the episode without color can’t help but sap some of the vibrancy from even something as inherently fun as a mall heist.

More generally, “Nippy” feels overly beholden to the opening vignettes of the previous seasons, which seemed to aspire more toward mood-setting than plot-building. And although it comprehensively weaves together elements from all of themthe police radio, the dumpster room, the security guard who caught the shoplifter, that same guard’s help calling the EMTs, and the cab driver who recognized him, there’s a sense that the episode merely does the best it can within the constraints set by Gene’s cliffhanger from season five. “Nippy” evokes the spirit of Jimmy’s earliest cons; the nostalgia is pleasant, but it also means we’ve seen this all play out before, in one form or another. The episode is so self-contained that it lacks the urgency I’ve come to look forward to after the breakneck pace of this season.

Saul’s “Baby’s First Heist” series of mnemonics made me smile. The greatest delight of the episode is the moment Jeff moves beyond the rhymes from the obstacle course trial run to the first one we haven’t heard yet: “Seven, spendy dresses sent from heaven!” There’s more!

The Cinnabon montage cuts between progress and repetition to great effect. We see Gene gradually become an expert on college football, along with the increasingly familiar ways he gets buzzed into the security room, anchored against the constancy of the stopwatch close-ups and shots of the cinnamon rolls being prepared.

Even on rewatch, it’s an open question for me how much of Gene’s smokescreen – loneliness, anonymity, and especially his mention of his brother – is drawn from a place of truth.

I didn’t expect there to be much room this season for Saul’s story post-Breaking Bad, but his renewed spirits at the Cinnabon and his wistful pairing of the suit and tie leave the door open for more. After “Nippy”’s promising ending, if you told me that Better Call Saul’s last three episodes were Gene episodes, I’d believe the show’s creators could pull it off.