Jimmy McGill is a guy who just wants to be good. Or maybe he just wants to look like he's being good so the people he loves will finally give him a pat on the back. By the time we hit Better Call Saul Season 2, that distinction becomes a messy, blurred line that defines one of the best tragic comedies ever put on television. If you’re coming over from Breaking Bad expecting explosions and meth labs every ten minutes, this season probably felt like a bit of a shock. It’s quiet. It’s deliberate. Honestly, it’s mostly about document filing and elder law. But it's also where the soul of Saul Goodman is actually forged.
Vince Gilligan and Peter Gould didn’t rush. They let the characters breathe. In the second season, we see Jimmy trying his absolute hardest to play by the rules at Davis & Main, a posh law firm in Santa Fe. It’s painful to watch. He’s got the Cocobolo desk. He’s got the yellow Mercedes (which barely fits in the parking garage). He’s got everything he thought he wanted, but he’s miserable because he has to keep his "colorful" tendencies in a box.
The Davis & Main Experiment: Why Jimmy Couldn't Just Sit Still
Season 2 kicks off with Jimmy hiding out at a resort under the alias "Viktor with a K." He’s scamming stockbrokers for expensive tequila alongside Kim Wexler. It’s his happy place. When he finally takes the job at Davis & Main, it feels like a death sentence disguised as a promotion.
The friction here isn't about villains with guns. It's about a light switch. You remember that scene in the premiere? Jimmy sees a switch with a piece of tape over it that says "Do Not Turn Off." He stares at it. He agonizes over it. Then, he flips it anyway. Why? Because Jimmy McGill cannot help himself. He has an inherent need to see what happens when you break the rules. This small moment is more indicative of his character than any grand monologue.
Kim Wexler is the Real Heart of the Story
We need to talk about Rhea Seehorn. In Better Call Saul Season 2, Kim moves from being a supporting player to the absolute emotional center of the series. Her relationship with Jimmy is fascinating because it’s not built on typical TV romance tropes. It’s built on shared cigarettes in a dark parking garage and a mutual love for the hustle.
When Jimmy airs that unsanctioned commercial for the Sandpiper Crossing lawsuit, he doesn't just put his own job at risk. He drags Kim down with him. Seeing her relegated to "doc review"—the soul-crushing basement work at HHM—is devastating. It highlights the fundamental difference between the two: Jimmy breaks rules and usually lands on his feet; Kim breaks a rule once and her entire career is jeopardized. The stakes feel massive because they are personal.
Mike Ehrmantraut and the Birth of a Criminal Underworld
While Jimmy is busy trying to fit into a corporate suit, Mike is descending into the Albuquerque underworld. This is where the season provides that "Breaking Bad" DNA we all crave. His conflict with the Salamanca family, specifically Hector, is a masterclass in tension.
- Mike refuses to kill Tuco.
- He chooses a beatdown over a murder.
- He thinks he can solve problems with logic and restraint.
But as we see throughout the season, the cartel doesn't play by those rules. The introduction of Mark Margolis as Hector Salamanca brings a terrifying gravity to the show. The way Mike’s storyline eventually intersects with the mysterious "Don't" note on his windshield is the kind of storytelling that keeps you up at night. It’s the first real hint of Gus Fring’s shadow looming over the series.
Chuck McGill: The Villain Who Thinks He’s a Hero
Michael McKean is brilliant. There’s no other way to put it. Chuck is the most frustrating antagonist in modern television because, technically, he’s usually right. He knows Jimmy is a "Slippin' Jimmy" at heart. He knows that "lawyers with a law degree from the University of American Samoa are like chimps with machine guns."
The climax of Better Call Saul Season 2 revolves around the Mesa Verde files. Jimmy sabotaging Chuck’s work—changing "1261" to "1216" on legal documents—is a petty, small-scale crime. But the fallout is nuclear. It leads to the confrontation in the season finale, "Klick," where Chuck tricks Jimmy into confessing on tape. It’s a betrayal that feels worse than a physical blow because it plays on Jimmy’s one redeeming quality: his love for his brother.
The Complexity of "The Fiddle"
A lot of fans argue about who was "right" in Season 2. Was Jimmy justified in sabotaging Chuck to help Kim’s career? Or was Chuck right to go to such extreme lengths to stop a man he viewed as a threat to the integrity of the law?
The truth is somewhere in the middle. Jimmy’s actions are fueled by a twisted sense of loyalty. Chuck’s actions are fueled by deep-seated jealousy. It’s a sibling rivalry played out with high-stakes legal consequences. This isn't a show about good vs. evil. It's a show about two broken men who don't know how to love each other without hurting each other.
Technical Brilliance: More Than Just a Script
The cinematography in this season is genuinely breathtaking. Think about the "Inflatable" montage. We see Jimmy wearing increasingly loud suits—mustard yellow, bright orange, neon green—trying to get himself fired from Davis & Main so he can keep his bonus. The visual storytelling tells us everything we need to know about his state of mind without a single line of dialogue.
Then there’s the sound design. The buzzing of the lights in Chuck’s house. The desert wind. The click of a tape recorder. Every sound is intentional. It creates an atmosphere of mounting dread that contrasts sharply with the sunny, bright Albuquerque exterior.
Actionable Insights for the Better Call Saul Superfan
If you're revisiting Better Call Saul Season 2 or watching it for the first time, keep an eye on the details. This isn't background TV. It demands your full attention.
🔗 Read more: Season 16 Dr. Phil: Why This Specific Year Still Haunts Daytime TV
- Watch the backgrounds. The showrunners love to hide "Easter eggs" and references to the Breaking Bad universe. Look at the names on the office doors or the products on the shelves.
- Focus on the color palette. Jimmy often wears "vibrant" colors when he's being dishonest, while Kim and Chuck are usually draped in blues and greys. This visual language is consistent throughout the entire series.
- Analyze the "scams." Most of Jimmy's cons in this season aren't about money. They're about validation. Ask yourself why he’s doing a particular trick, and you’ll understand his character much better.
- Listen to the music. Dave Porter’s score is subtle, but the licensed tracks—like the upbeat "Scorpio" during the document sabotage—add a layer of irony to the dark themes.
The beauty of this season is that it doesn't try to be anything other than a character study. It’s a slow burn, sure, but the fire it builds is one that eventually consumes everyone involved. By the end of the ten episodes, the stage is set for the inevitable transformation. Jimmy is still Jimmy, but Saul Goodman is screaming to get out.
If you really want to appreciate the craftsmanship, go back and watch the episode "Fifi." The opening four-minute tracking shot at the border crossing is a technical marvel that rivals anything you'll see in a big-budget Hollywood movie. It’s a reminder that even when the plot feels small, the ambition of the show is massive.
The next step for any fan is to dive into the "Insider Podcast" for this season. Kelly Dixon and the writers break down exactly how they broke the story for each episode. You'll learn that the "tape recorder" twist in the finale wasn't even the original plan—it evolved naturally out of the characters' motivations. Understanding that process makes the show even more impressive upon a second viewing. Tighten your tie, grab a coffee from the nail salon, and pay attention to the fine print. In this world, the fine print is exactly where the tragedy lives.