Primetime television has had no shortage of male antihero protagonists at the forefront of momentous conflict in recent memory. Breaking Bad, The Sopranos, Mad Men and countless others have all brought forth the egocentric alpha male archetype that seems to spiral into this conflict due to the nature of character. If you go back and rewatch any of these, you’d be quick to notice that the narrative is presented with a solution very early on in the running.
For Walter White, all he’d have to do to resolve his main conflict is accept the job he’s offered by Elliot Schwartz to avoid destabilizing the New Mexico meth economy and support his treatment and family. For Tony Soprano, it’s simply about being open-minded. Therapy tries to help him in this notion, but preoccupation with lust and a refusal to see the world differently than his peers would obstruct him from this. Going back into any of these male-driven dramas it’s obvious that rather than conflict being presented initially in a clear-cut way, it’s presented simply due to the temperament of its main character, who ends up creating or exacerbating the conflict. This is because, in the case of our previous hard-headed mainstays, that temperament values its pride above all else.
Enter Bill Hader as Barry Berkman, an ex-Marine turned hitman who, despite his job title, is rather unassuming and would prefer it to be that way, no thanks to the circumstance. The show Barry centers around its namesake whose occupation brings him to Los Angeles to kill an actor; Barry stumbles into joining his acting class and actually finding fulfillment, but in his search of meaning, he discovers that his past demons have followed along on his journey to Hollywood.
Barry is tasked with taking out this member of his acting class, something that proves difficult as Barry continues to pursue what he feels is his true purpose outside the one laid out for him by his boss, Fuches, and the dark past that leads his peers to associate him with violence. As the series progresses, his two occupations begin to creep closer in relation to one another, even as our protagonist tries to distance himself from his history of violence.
Barry is a Show About Redemption
Warner Bros. Television
Barry’s ultimate conflict, both for the character and the audience, is one of redemption. The crux of the narrative presents this idea immediately, with the first real exposure to Barry’s occupation coinciding with the solution to the version of the character we’re presented with in the pilot episode. Barry is almost painfully self-aware of his tendencies and the flaws he automatically brings to the table, but it’s that awareness that acts as the driving force for his development. Redemption and proving his own worth to others is at the forefront of Barry’s priorities throughout the entire show, doing whatever it takes to prove he can be a truly good man while being required to smear his ledger red more and more as time goes on.
How Barry Handles Anxiety
HBO
However, his line of work is not really one that is fond of its workers leaving while still alive, and although Barry may not be all bad, he is far from a hero. Rather than pride obstructing progress like our aforementioned leading men, for Barry it’s actually subservience. It becomes painfully clear that once he finds true purpose, acting, his drive starts to wane in regard to his current job. However, to put it simply, Barry has no boundaries at the start of the show. This changes with time as the relationship with classmate Sally Reed (played by Sarah Goldberg) progresses, but on principle he’s just not a guy well accustomed to saying the word “no.”
This is partially accredited to Barry’s anxiety disorder, which Bill Hader told The Hollywood Reporter was based on his time on Saturday Night Live, which leads him to let others do the talking for him. His “manager," Monroe Fuches, is seen to set Barry’s limitations for him as a way to make sure his aspirations don’t get in the way of operations at hand. First outright barring Barry from acting, Fuches reluctantly agrees with the promise he’ll still do the dirty laundry.
As well as a lack of purpose, Barry Berkman starts out not knowing what he wants entirely, until opportunity makes its grand entrance. A far cry from the likes of Tony Soprano and Walter White, who instead of shying away from controversy, steamrolled their agendas into the forefront of the narrative regardless of who it hurt, including their family and friends, only to realize the consequences of their pride after the deed was done.
Corruption and its Relationship With Male Protagonists
Sony Pictures Television
The other major subversion this male-driven drama takes from its predecessors is its outlook on corruption. Breaking Bad isn’t a show about a man “just trying to do right by his family,” it’s a horrifying introspection on the way pride, and more specifically male pride, can affect its victims in the most extreme sense. We see Walter White, mild-mannered chemistry teacher turn into the most notoriously cruel drug kingpin in the greater Southwest. We see him use malice as almost an escape from the hell that he seems to have trapped himself in, only to further inflict pain on those he loves in the process. He even gets a pseudonym, Heisenberg, probably the most supervillain-esque nickname a drug dealer could have. At that point the writing’s not just on the wall, it’s a 6-foot neon sign.
Barry’s relationship with malice is much different. For him, it is seen as a component of his own neuroses and isolation, wanting so desperately to be loved by those around him but conflicted whether they even should. His corruption isn’t something that’s grown into, it’s inherent. Rather than letting it control him, his whole life revolves around attempting to break free of the shackles placed on him by his mental issues and those who exploit it. One of the main conflicts in the show is if he can ever move beyond this inherent corruption (anxiety, depression, violence, psychosis); can Barry ever change?
How Barry Treats His Co-Stars
But enough dancing, the true test of any protagonist is how he plays off of those around him. As the show has progressed, Barry is shown to be fierce in his loyalty (something the season three finale certainly punctuated). This is seen most poignantly in his relationship with his acting teacher, Gene Cousineau (played by The Fonz himself, Henry Winkler). Cousineau, unbeknownst to him, makes the mistake of falling in love with the chief detective of the case in which Barry is the elusive culprit. Naturally the nature of mercenary work takes its course and Cousineau is left heartbroken, and later filled with rage as he learns the identity of her killer.
Where most in his profession would shrug their shoulders, Barry upholstered his character by spending the majority of season three attempting to reconcile with his mentor. Again, trying to prove his worth to not only himself but also those he loves, only to have the prison of his mind and actions tighten its grip on him further.
Contrast this with Tony Soprano, another character whose morality is constantly in question under different reasoning. Throughout The Sopranos, Tony is presented with threats on either his family or his profession, both of which are met with an excitatory lust for vengeance. Rather than have his profession be the requirement for turmoil, Tony revels in the idea of exacting revenge on those who do wrong by those around him. To him, it doesn’t matter who else gets hurt in the process as long as that justice is served.
How Barry Handles Violence
Ultimately, Barry falls under the umbrella of television that centers around the male figure’s relationship to violence and escapism. In previous iterations, our prideful leading men seem to lead unsatisfactory lives from their perspective. Simply living an uneventful life was not satisfaction enough, and thus the need for escapism in the most corrupting avenues is pursued. Barry takes these same core themes and simply reverses their importance.
For Barry, the life of corruption he’s handed and gifted is his own personal hell. He craves simplicity, daydreaming about grocery shopping with Sally, having children, all the aspects of existence thought to be bland and ’not enough’ from his thematic predecessors like Walter White. This relation again paints a new picture of the viewer’s relationship with Barry. Unlike watching a descent into madness take place like the audience would’ve done previously, Barry relentlessly tries to claw his way out of insanity. The ultimate battle isn’t defending the actions in order to redeem the man, but defending the man to redeem the actions.
