
As show creator Vince Gilligan routinely puts it, Walt is going from Mr. It’s less a character arc than a plunge down a moral elevator shaft. Unlike nearly every character in the history of television, Walter White is changing beyond recognition over the show’s 62 episodes. And it’s like, mostly people back off.”īreaking Bad is, at its core, a story of transformation. “You know, it’s great to see how much you can intimidate just by lowering your voice and giving a stare. “It’s started to rub off on me,” he says, in his calming, actorly baritone.

We’re heading to a bar about a mile away, and he’s trying to goad me into taking a helmetless ride on the back of his Quadrophenia-ready silver Vespa scooter, giving me a taste of Walter White’s persuasive powers in the process. He emerged a couple of minutes ago from one of the production trailers, where he changed from Walter’s unstylish khakis, button-down and Clark Wallabee shoes into his own slim-fit dark jeans, leather high-top PF Flyers sneakers and polo shirt. He’s just Bryan Cranston, an avuncular 56-year-old actor at the end of another 13-hour day of playing what he calls “the role of my life,” the one that’s won him three Emmys and counting. The moment passes, and he smiles under his sinister goatee. “You a scaredy-cat?” He’s not even Walter now – he’s his alter ego, meth kingpin Heisenberg, and in his pitiless blue eyes, I’m everything weak and human and in the way. “You chicken?” he asks, freshly razored scalp gleaming under a distant streetlight.

It’s just before midnight, and we’re facing off in the dusty shadows of an Albuquerque, New Mexico, parking lot, between rows of white trailers.
