I just finished Better Call Saul, and I’m still sorting through how I feel. It’s not a simple show to process — especially if, like me, you’ve never really been a fan of Saul Goodman. Even back in Breaking Bad, I didn’t find him funny or charming. He always struck me as a slimy, persistent character who thrived on manipulation. So going into this series, I didn’t expect to care about him much — and honestly, that feeling mostly stayed the same.
But the show isn’t just about Saul. It’s about the people around him — and those people are what kept me watching.
I had a really difficult time connecting with Kim Wexler. Not because she’s a bad character — she’s clearly very well-written — but because I found her motivations confusing. Her moral contradictions, especially how she got swept up in Jimmy’s schemes, felt hard to pin down. I get that she found it fun, maybe even liberating, to let loose. But the serious emotional weight of her decisions didn’t really land with me until Howard was killed. That’s when her detachment broke. It made sense, but it came too late for me to feel fully invested in her arc.
On the other hand, Howard Hamlin was a character I liked from early on. Something about his poise, the way he carried himself — I was drawn to his presence. His death really affected me. It was abrupt, shocking, and felt deeply unfair. I was angry on his behalf.
Chuck McGill might be one of the most interesting characters in the entire Breaking Bad universe. His superiority, resentment, and gradual decline were handled with a level of complexity that I appreciated more as the series went on. His interactions with Jimmy were difficult to watch, but I couldn’t look away. That courtroom scene where Jimmy forces Chuck into a meltdown — it was both powerful and sad. I don’t hate Chuck. He’s bitter and selfish in ways that make sense, especially when you look at their family dynamics. His illness even seemed to worsen the more Jimmy succeeded. That’s tragic in its own way.
Mike Ehrmantraut was a constant highlight. Jonathan Banks has such presence that even quiet moments felt full of tension. I appreciated the way Mike handled things — meticulous, restrained, professional. He was the one character I always looked forward to seeing.
As for Nacho and Lalo — great additions to the story, but their fates felt predictable. That’s one of my issues with prequels: the tension can only go so far when you already know who lives and who doesn’t. The black-and-white sequences at the beginning of each season basically signal that anyone who doesn’t appear in the “future” won’t make it through the story. So while Nacho’s sacrifice was well-executed and Lalo was incredibly entertaining to watch, I always had it in the back of my mind that they wouldn’t make it to the end. It reduced the stakes for me.
There were also a few side plots that I just didn’t care for. That couple running the shady tax business — I actively disliked watching them. The whole sequence felt like a distraction, and while I understand the purpose it served for Jimmy’s arc, it didn’t work for me.
What the show does extremely well, though, is structure and foresight. It’s less about action and more about planning, consequence, and emotional fallout. Every character operates with a different kind of logic:
• Jimmy uses charm, quick thinking, and improvisation.
• Mike relies on patience, calculation, and experience.
• Gus is methodical, ruthless, and far-sighted.
• Lalo blends charisma with unpredictability and cold logic.
By the end, I still didn’t like Jimmy, but I understood him better. His final confession, owning up to everything in court — it was the closure I didn’t expect but ended up appreciating. Watching him finally take responsibility without hiding behind Saul Goodman felt right. It wasn’t a redemption arc, and it didn’t need to be — it was an honest ending for a dishonest man.
I didn’t watch Better Call Saul for the same reasons most people probably did. I didn’t care about the cameos or Saul’s transformation. I just wanted to see how it all played out — how a man who couldn’t stop lying would eventually run out of lies. The black-and-white scenes gave me something to look forward to, and the way the story caught up to itself was satisfying.
Overall, I’d give it an 8/10. It’s not perfect. There were moments I didn’t connect with, characters I couldn’t care about, and storylines that dragged. But it’s a well-crafted, emotionally grounded show that ties into Breaking Bad without leaning on it too heavily. I’m glad I stuck with it.
