The word "pivotal" doesn't even begin to describe this episode. When it was over, I let out a "Jimmy H. Carter!" so loud that it freaked out my fiancee -- imagine another name with the initials "J.C." instead of "Jimmy Carter" and you'll get the idea.
So much stuff went on in this episode that it might be good for us to go in reverse order. Let's start by mourning the loss of a friend, one that's been with us from the very beginning of the series, back when Walt and Jesse were just two crazy kids trying to cook blue meth in the middle of the desert...
Friends, it's time to mourn the passing of the RV. After all that happened this week, it was necessary that it had to go, but it was still sad to see it get crushed.
The scenes when Jesse and Walt were watching their meth factory get picked apart and crushed were actually a little bit moving; they both could and should have gotten the hell away from that scrap yard as quickly as possible after Saul lured Hank away, but they a) wanted to make sure the job was done, and b) pay their respects to the RV itself. That respect, accompanied by the Mexican elegy used as music for the scene, made it feel more like a funeral than the mere crushing of a vehicle.
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