Harold, They're Flung Out Of Space.

what Helen did was 100% a violation of Carol’s privacy and autonomy - there’s a reason why Carol’s first assumption was that the sensor was the Hive’s doing instead of hers

what Helen did was also 100% driven by her love for Carol, and her concern for both their future and the future of their unborn child. there is a version of their future where they do have that child, and Helen eventually admits to what she did, and Carol would likely come to agree that what she did was for the best

it’s a choice that came from her deep understanding of who Carol is from decades of knowing her, in extremely stark contrast to Carol’s mom putting her through conversion therapy, which came from a fundamental misunderstanding of who Carol is and what she wants

this sort of gray area is something all of us will sooner or later encounter in our lives. is it wrong to monitor the finances of an aging parent who’s terrible at handling money without their knowledge? is it wrong to look through your child’s search history when you can see that they’re suffering in silence but they refuse to talk to you?

Still thinking about these parallel shots.

this is probably the only sex gif i will every reblog, because for some reason i feel like it’s more than just sex. i don’t know if it’s how they’re actually looking at one another or the way they can’t get close enough. he’s actually looking at her like a person and not just a sex object. 

Manousos and what he represents -- the substantial, the real, the human -- is slowly replaced by the intangible, ephemeral, ever-shifting reflection of Zosia's legs on the water's surface.

We then get this shot of her in the water, in a blue bathing suit, while Carol sits to the side in a yellow/warm-toned dress.

Zosia's not beckoning Carol into the water just yet. There's still a separation between them. Carol raises her head to look at her with a slight smile, but then goes back to reading. Zosia doesn't acknowledge Carol at all.

Next, there's this.

This moment in particular feels the most dream-like of the whole montage. They're walking on the shore together. Carol closes her eyes, and the second she does, Zosia turns her back on her. Carol feels present and happy, and she's started to see Zosia as the key for that (hence Zosia wearing yellow). But the reality that Carol is oblivious/asleep to is that Zosia is distant, faceless, and carries the scars from the fight Carol has forgotten as prominently as she wears the yellow.

She opens her eyes to see the reality of Zosia walking away from her. And once again, she's alone.

Zosia doesn't look back; Carol has to chase after her.

Here they are, the pirate lady leading the walk off the deep yellow sand and into the big blue sea.

After that, they're in the water together.

...so of course Carol is fully blue in the next scene.

When they walk, she's the one taking the lead because Zosia no longer has to. But they're never side by side. Zosia is still distant.

While Carol seems to take a deep breath, looks up, looks down, and finally lets herself grin, Zosia retains the same detached smile as she looks straight ahead the entire time.

The only change in her is when Carol turns to face her with that grin and she reciprocates. It's so very different from Carol's holidays with Helen. There's no friction, which is why there are no real sparks there either, despite what Carol might be telling herself.

But why is Zosia wearing red? Why depart from the colour scheme? Well, uh.

(Typically, when you put a character in red and stick a fire behind them, there's something specific you're trying to convey.)

After everything Carol goes through, it's only human for her to cave to the devil's temptations. She comes so close to unwittingly selling her soul for moments of genuine happiness and the illusion of love. But in the end, she still has that one streak of yellow on her sweater, and that's enough.

It got to a point where she had to write this:

PLAYING Skyler White on the television show “Breaking Bad” for the past five seasons has been one of the most rewarding creative journeys I’ve embarked on as an actor. But the role has also taken me on another kind of journey — one I never would have imagined.

My character, to judge from the popularity of Web sites and Facebook pages devoted to hating her, has become a flash point for many people’s feelings about strong, nonsubmissive, ill-treated women. As the hatred of Skyler blurred into loathing for me as a person, I saw glimpses of an anger that, at first, simply bewildered me.

For those unfamiliar with the show: Skyler is the wife of Walter White, a high-school chemistry teacher who, after learning he has lung cancer, begins cooking and selling methamphetamine to leave a nest egg for Skyler, their teenage son and their unborn daughter. After his prognosis improves, however, Walter continues in the drug trade — with considerable success — descending deeper and deeper into a life of crime.

When Skyler discovers what Walter has been up to, she tries to stop him, to no avail. She is outraged by the violence and destruction of the drug world, fearful for her children’s safety, disgusted by the money Walter brings in and undone by the lies and manipulation to which he subjects her.

Because Walter is the show’s protagonist, there is a natural tendency to empathize with and root for him, despite his moral failings. (That viewers can identify with this antihero is also a testament to how deftly his character is written and acted.) As the one character who consistently opposes Walter and calls him on his lies, Skyler is, in a sense, his antagonist. So from the beginning, I was aware that she might not be the show’s most popular character.

But I was unprepared for the vitriolic response she inspired. Thousands of people have “liked” the Facebook page “I Hate Skyler White.” Tens of thousands have “liked” a similar Facebook page with a name that cannot be printed here. When people started telling me about the “hate boards” for Skyler on the Web site for AMC, the network that broadcasts the show, I knew it was probably best not to look, but I wanted to understand what was happening.

A typical online post complained that Skyler was a “shrieking, hypocritical harpy” and didn’t “deserve the great life she has.”

“I have never hated a TV-show character as much as I hate her,” one poster wrote. The consensus among the haters was clear: Skyler was a ball-and-chain, a drag, a shrew, an “annoying bitch wife.”

I enjoy taking on complex, difficult characters and have always striven to capture the truth of those people, whether or not it’s popular. Vince Gilligan, the creator of “Breaking Bad,” wanted Skyler to be a woman with a backbone of steel who would stand up to whatever came her way, who wouldn’t just collapse in the corner or wring her hands in despair. He and the show’s writers made Skyler multilayered and, in her own way, morally compromised. But at the end of the day, she hasn’t been judged by the same set of standards as Walter.

As an actress, I realize that viewers are entitled to have whatever feelings they want about the characters they watch. But as a human being, I’m concerned that so many people react to Skyler with such venom. Could it be that they can’t stand a woman who won’t suffer silently or “stand by her man”? That they despise her because she won’t back down or give up? Or because she is, in fact, Walter’s equal?

It’s notable that viewers have expressed similar feelings about other complex TV wives — Carmela Soprano of “The Sopranos,” Betty Draper of “Mad Men.” Male characters don’t seem to inspire this kind of public venting and vitriol.

At some point on the message boards, the character of Skyler seemed to drop out of the conversation, and people transferred their negative feelings directly to me. The already harsh online comments became outright personal attacks. One such post read: “Could somebody tell me where I can find Anna Gunn so I can kill her?” Besides being frightened (and taking steps to ensure my safety), I was also astonished: how had disliking a character spiraled into homicidal rage at the actress playing her?

But I finally realized that most people’s hatred of Skyler had little to do with me and a lot to do with their own perception of women and wives. Because Skyler didn’t conform to a comfortable ideal of the archetypical female, she had become a kind of Rorschach test for society, a measure of our attitudes toward gender.

I can’t say that I have enjoyed being the center of the storm of Skyler hate. But in the end, I’m glad that this discussion has happened, that it has taken place in public and that it has illuminated some of the dark and murky corners that we often ignore or pretend aren’t still there in our everyday lives.

--

Vince had to speak out back then too.

When "Pluribus" started airing, he once again talked about how people missed the point of his own series, "Breaking Bad," but also the point of "The Sopranos."

How those antiheroes are worshipped while their wives (Carmela, Skyler) are hated passionately.

(And I'd add how both shows deconstruct white male entitlement in their own ways.)

He might not be talking much nowadays and sharing his opinions, but when he does, he throws pearls like this one.

"I like Carol. She's our flawed heroine. [...] Isolating her like that felt biblical. [...] That's why in episode 8 she sleeps with the devil."

(He doesn't like what the hivemind is doing with the animals either.)

See how many people refuse to accept now that the hivemind's behavior is straight up abusive, but anything that Carol does in self-defense is read in the worst faith possible.

He's not stupid, he knows he's talking to his old "Breaking Bad" fans.

Carol, your average white woman being thrown in extreme situations and reacting to the horrors, feels very, very pointed @ those kinds of people.

Like, "Can you get it this time? What I'm saying here without having to spell it out?"

Suffice it to say, they cannot. They say Carol is worse than Skyler.

the amount of times I've seen/heard Rhea get frustrated and defend Carol because professional journalists kept questioning whether her character is really a heroine that wants to help save the world or whether she "only cares about herself"...

The writer of episode 7, also a woman, had to spell everything out, including:

"Yes, she's still our heroine."