The second to last episode of BETTER CALL SAUL is a doozy. For the first time we see what has become of Kim Wexler, and it's done in an extended version of a SAUL montage—we see Kim in different settings over the course of a day, first with her idiot boyfriend and their friends, then at work. But there's a major production twist: there's no soundtrack playing in the background. It's a choice that forces us to simply sit in the inanity and sadness of her life.
And at the same time, much like the montage in the last Jimmy/Saul episode, Kim herself never nods to the emptiness of her life. In fact, when it comes to the boyfriend or her girlfriends she actually plays along, which makes things feel even worse.
One of the most satisfying things that a finale can do is to return to the beginning in some way, to reference lines, moments or aspects of the pilot. So in the finale of SAUL just before the end we'll have Jimmy and Kim sharing a cigarette, very much as they did in the pilot (and also in so many other episodes). Because it's been used so often on the show, it's become a shorthand for the care they have for each other. (A genius friend of mine also pointed out, what they're sharing is something that will kill them.)
The penultimate episode's montage twist is another version of that idea of following the breadcrumbs of your own work, aka looking to what you've done in the beginning or along the way for guidance on how to end your story. It's more subtle than the cigarette share. And it's also a moment of evaluation, the show raising up what is maybe its signature technique and showing the dark side of it. In a sense the needle drops of BREAKING BAD and SAUL have always been the playlist of its characters; even when terrible stuff is happening, the songs used in the montages have taken away some of the sharpest edges. They've given meaning to their pain and made their crimes so much more palatable.
In other words, they have been a form of self-delusion. And here at the end the series takes that crutch away, because Kim's whole practice seems to be about honesty and truth—and becomes moreso as the episode goes on.
One of my favorite techniques is when a writer or show takes something that they have taught you to accept and love and then confronts you with the darkness of that thing. Call it FLEABAGGING your audience. It's the kind of a-ha moment we rarely see coming, because by the time we get there the technique has been with us so long we barely even notice it, or only do so on the show's terms. "Damn that's another great/classic SAUL montage."
If you're looking for an exercise for your writing, watch an episode of a show you like. And as you watch it, step back and be the big picture observer noticing the techniques or story beats that are standard on it. For example, GREY'S ANATOMY is always going to have a narrator. MRS. MAISEL is always going to have Miriam using her routine to expose elements of her most important relationships. MODERN FAMILY or ABBOTT ELEMENTARY involves an unseen or acknowledged camera crew.
And after you pull out a technique, consider, what could be a great way to twist that up in the end? How can you undermine or flip the trust you've taught your audience to have? Like, it turns out Meredith is narrating all of this from Heaven. The MODERN FAMILY film crew turns out to be the descendants of the characters, or maybe one another. Miriam's use of comedy in this way ends up undermining her relationships.
