Note: English is not my native language, so this text was translated using Google Translate. There may be some odd phrasing or the like.
In the preface to his biography of Mozart, Wolfgang Hildesheimer wrote that "Behind the invented characters, the author's psychic and mental makeup is revealed—and not least of all. (...) When Bruno Walter says that Mozart was a limpid and trusting soul, a cheerful and sincere young man, he is merely expressing a widespread, deeply held wish that involuntarily defines the limits of the speaker's own psychological perspective." The depiction of a character—whether historical, like Mozart, or fictional, like Chuck McGill—depends on the limits of the describer's psychological perspective, as Hildesheimer aptly notes. It is therefore no coincidence that characters with whom the audience fails to identify are often reviled (Chuck is one example, but the same phenomenon applies to Skyler in *Breaking Bad*).
Throughout the first three seasons of *BCS*, Chuck is evidently an antagonist. The term "antagonist" is more neutral—and descriptively more accurate—than "villain," which is the term typically used. As an antagonist, he opposes the protagonist, and the audience consequently loathes him. The standard narrative approach of any series leads us to adopt the subjective perspective of the hero or protagonist and to identify with them. The same applies to Skyler in *BB*; she, too, is constructed as the antagonist to Walter White, the character with whom the audience typically identifies.
In this way, cinematic storytelling constructs a subjectivity that the audience experiences. This has been a fundamental aspect of cinema—and television series—at least since the time of Hitchcock. Such identification with the hero is essential to heroic narratives, as it is necessary to evoke a full range of emotions regarding the character, from suspense to joy. We experience the loss of Odysseus’s companions at the hands of Polyphemus as if they were our own comrades, and we subsequently experience Odysseus’s ingenious, triumphant escape as if it were our own victory. Yet, for this very reason, our assessment of the hero—as well as his antagonists and allies—tends to be heavily biased and shaped by the narrative’s construction (in addition to being influenced by our own psychological predispositions).
It is typical for an antagonist to stand in opposition to the protagonist not only through their actions but also through individual traits that might be deemed peculiar or even malevolent—a common feature of the more "villainous" antagonists, such as those found in Disney films. In the case of Chuck McGill, this is clearly evident in his exceptional giftedness. From childhood, in contrast to his brother’s ordinariness (or even mediocrity), Chuck achieved remarkable feats—such as graduating early from high school and winning debate competitions—and went on to amass countless professional accomplishments in adulthood. This sets him apart from his brother’s "normal" life, creating a distance that also separates him from the everyday reality of the audience. One might speculate that this lies at the root of his phobia of electricity: essentially a profound internal anguish—an aversion to his brother’s ordinariness—that has been displaced onto something concrete and controllable, namely electricity.
In the preceding paragraphs, I attempted to explain why Chuck is so loathed in his role as an antagonist. Undoubtedly, all manner of moral arguments could be raised later. It is evident that Chuck has committed despicable acts against his brother, yet the interpretive framework used to judge—and, above all, to understand—those actions is the one I have outlined here: that of the antagonist who stands apart from the norm and is, for that very reason, perceived by everyone as inherently narcissistic—driven by nothing other than the sheer malice of a privileged man.
Now, I want to offer my own interpretation of Chuck, one that is by no means free of bias, returning to the words of Hildesheimer I cited at the beginning. In fact, the reason I felt moved to write this short essay is likely rooted in narcissism, and I am not afraid to admit it. Having been labeled a "gifted child" myself from an early age, I understand and identify with certain aspects of Chuck. To some extent, I have lived with the same narratives Chuck has used to justify himself throughout the series, though I have tried to remain aware of them and set them aside in my own life. My interpretation might therefore seem overly lenient to you, or perhaps I am conveniently ignoring certain facts about Chuck—and you would likely be right. That is precisely why I am publishing this: so that, through a dialogue with other ideas, we might arrive at something closer to a "correct" or more complete interpretation.
To paraphrase Michael McKean, Chuck was the one who made his mother proud, but Jimmy was the one who made her laugh. And as McKean rightly notes, to the primitive brain, that implies his mother loved Jimmy more. Consequently—driven by confirmation bias—he seeks to construct a narrative of victimhood (a narrative confirmed, at least from Chuck’s perspective, by the famous scene of his mother’s death). This may be a root cause of Chuck’s narcissism—so evident throughout the series—which manifests through a framework of rationality and professional success; this framework, in turn, leads him to develop a "controllable" phobia (albeit unconsciously) as a way to cope with his anguish. Viewed through a psychoanalytic lens, the influence of the Oedipus complex becomes clear. Chuck loves his mother, just as Jimmy does, but it is Jimmy who can "access" her (in the metaphorical sense); unable to be Jimmy, Chuck seeks, on one hand, to "kill" him (symbolically) by forging an identity based on professional success and the rationality Jimmy lacks, thereby compensating for his own perceived deficiency. On the other hand, there are moments—such as when he attempts to tell a joke to his wife, mirroring Jimmy’s earlier behavior in that flashback—where he seeks to identify with and imitate Jimmy (even though he cannot openly admit it). Thus, his narcissism is neither innate nor simply a product of an inherently evil nature; rather, it is a defense mechanism developed in response to that perception during the formative years of childhood. One can even draw an analogy between this and the narcissism Jimmy later adopts as a defense mechanism when he transforms into "Saul Goodman"—a shift driven by the feeling that Chuck’s world, the world of traditional law, does not accept him.
Chuck’s psychological disposition aligns with the narratives he constructs (always, it should be noted, unconsciously). First, as I mentioned earlier, there is the narrative regarding his phobia of electricity. This represents a redirection of his anguish—anguish stemming from the normality Jimmy embodies—toward a controllable element. Naturally, he makes this fit his constructed identity as a "rational man" by citing studies on HSE and rationalizing with arguments that, while plausible, collapse in the face of the reality that his affliction is not somatic (he does not actually perceive electromagnetism more intensely) but purely mental. Then there is the paranoid, victim-oriented narrative: the idea that no one listened to him, that everyone was always wrong about Jimmy, and that Jimmy will always be an irredeemable criminal. This narrative becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, as it drives Jimmy further away from Chuck’s path and increasingly transforms him into Saul Goodman—the very thing Chuck feared (or, in reality, desired, as it would confirm his own superiority).
Does all this justify Chuck’s actions? Not at all. However, I believe it helps us better understand his worldview—and, above all, realize that he has been driven by defense mechanisms and his own inner drives, just like any other character in the series. And that is precisely the brilliance of this show: no character is purely a villain or a hero. They are simply human. They all justify themselves through narratives—as do we, to a large extent. That is why it is valuable to analyze series with such psychological depth as *BCS*; they serve as a mirror to ourselves.
