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Over the course of its previous 55 episodes, Breaking Bad has presented us with some unquestionably brutal viewing: the melting corpse of Season 1, the slit throat of Season 4, the parade of prisoners, stabbed and beaten like piñatas just one year ago. And let's not even get into all the unspeakable things Walter Jr. has been doing to a stack of pancakes every morning. But none of that carnage was as difficult to watch as what transpired last night between Marie and Skyler.

I'm honestly not sure if this most unstable of shows has ever unsettled me more. The scene between the two sisters lacked box cutters, but it was plenty sharp. There was no acid, but it burned just the same. Breaking Bad is, itself, such a wonderfully elaborate fiction that it has often been possible to forget the scrim of lies and make-believe that's been wrapped around the main characters all this time. But now the truth is raining down like pieces of Wayfarer 515 and the wreckage is just as gruesome. Last week Hank and Walt dodged the debris with busted noses and macho bluster. But Marie and Skyler just let it all crash into them. There were barely any words, just Skyler's nodding head pushing the knife in deeper and deeper. Yes, she knew about Walt when the DEA had them all under lockdown. Yes, she knew when the two cartel cousins shot Marie's husband to hell. Marie's entire existence has been about putting a bright, purple smile on even the most hopeless situations; whatever pain she kept for herself was subsumed first in the illicit rush of petty thievery and then in the micromanaging of her husband's rehabilitation. Over the course of this single one-sided conversation, every bit of optimism and sunshine was stolen right out of her. Source and More Details