When I was a bookseller, and a customer would come in asking me just for a great thriller, I would always hit them with A Simple Plan, by Scott Smith.
For those who haven’t read it or seen the movie, the book follows three ordinary men out in the woods who stumble upon a place crash with no survivors and a bag full of money. Two of the men are broke and need the money desperately, and manage to convince the third to keep the cash. Thus begins a very Treasure of the Sierra Madre type thriller as the trio turn against each other just as the law seems to be inching closer to them.
What I truly loved about the book is the almost instantaneous change within the main character, Hank Mitchell. At the start he is a shop owner expecting his first child with his wife. But almost immediately after finding the money, which he is reluctant to keep at the beginning, he kills to protect himself and the money. As the novel goes on, Hank slowly gives in to darker and more cold blooded impulses, but whether it is to stay out of prison or if it is to keep the money is open for interpretation.
Ultimately the book becomes about a man embracing the darkness that lies within, but once he does, it begins to take over and ultimately he is left with less than he started with. It’s a story that has stuck with me over the years.
Now, the reason I bring this up isn’t to just recommend a great book, but because I was struck by the similarities when I watched the first season of Breaking Bad a few weeks ago.
At first glance, Breaking Bad seems to be the latest in the trend of cable shows about darker lead characters like The Shield, Dexter, and The Sopranos. But Breaking Bad flips the script in many ways, because rather than discovering these antiheroes (and I use that term loosely) fully formed, here we watch just how a normal person can quickly be seduced by the dark side of the soul.
Walter White (yeah it’s not a subtle name) is a high school chemistry teacher working two jobs to support his pregnant wife and handicapped son. When he is diagnosed with lung cancer and given two years to live, he becomes obsessed about providing for his family after he is gone. To this end, he decides to make and sell crystal meth.
As the series progresses (and as of this writing, I have only seen the first season, not the second), Walter’s decision leads him down the moral slippery slope. By the end of the first episode, he has already killed one person in a blin
d survival instinct panic. But soon he commits a more calculated murder. By the end of the season, he is threatening drug dealers and building a criminal empire.
Of course some of these crimes are committed under the pretense of providing for his family, but as it progresses, we see that Walter is beginning to enjoy the criminal life. In one episode, he begins to feel up his wife during a parent teacher meeting, leading to them rushing out to have sex in the back of their car. When his wife asked why it was so amazing, he simply replies “Because it was illegal.”
That’s the beauty of this show; we can so easily identify with Walter. Who hasn’t felt that thrill of breaking a rule and getting away with it, that tingle when we do something we know we shouldn’t? It’s played out on a much more dramatic scale here, but as opposed to shows like The Sopranos or The Shield, where we are more consciously aware of the differences between us and them, here we feel a little closer to this teacher turned dealer, because he is an everyman. He is just like us, struggling to do what he feels he has to for his family. It’s uncomfortable and yet familiar.
Ultimately all of us have that dark side within us. Most of us choose to keep it in check, to try and be good people. But even good people will get that devil on our shoulder from time to time. No one is perfect. Who hasn’t thought from time to time about just how far you would go?
