Season 2 of AMC's cult hit "Breaking Bad" is all about tightening the screws on improbable suburban drug lord Walter White. The hardships he's created for himself become harder, the dire straits more dire. Meanwhile, this offbeat tragicomedy grows ever richer.

Walter, played with striking conviction by Emmy winner Bryan Cranston, is a formerly mild-mannered, Albuquerque-based chemistry teacher who recently learned he has terminal lung cancer. Desperate to leave behind a sizable nest egg for his pregnant wife (Anna Gunn) and his teen son (RJ Mitte), he has teamed up with Jesse Pinkman (Aaron Paul), a dim-witted former student, to cook up and sell batches of crystal meth.

Season 2 picks up right where we left off — with Walter and Jesse engaged in a lucrative drug deal with their "distributor" Tuco (Raymond Cruz), one of the most psychotic and violent TV thugs we've seen since the Sopranos roamed prime time.

When the hopped-up Tuco delivers a bloody beat-down to a henchman right before their very eyes, Walter and Jesse shift into freak-out mode. They realize that that they need to cut ties with this dirtball, but they're tethered to the consequences of their terrible choices, and the suspenseful twists that follow only plunge them deeper into trouble.

As rendered by creator Vince Gilligan ("The X-Files"), "Breaking Bad" can be as bleak as the dusty New Mexico desert landscapes that often serve as its backdrop. It's a dark and edgy show that seems to go out of its way to earn a "not-for-everybody" status and then wear it proudly as a badge of honor.

But those who can bring themselves to embrace "Breaking Bad" are rewarded with a fascinating character study — one steeped in existential irony. It took a death sentence, after all, to bring Walter to life. And although it's a life hovering on the wrong side of the law, it's one that has infused him with purpose and presented him with a brand of exhilaration and liberation that comes with discovering that you are capable of things you never before imagined.

This dramatic transformation all hinges on the impressive work of Cranston, who is proving that the Emmy upset he pulled off last fall was no fluke. With quiet magnetism, he goes from milquetoast family man to a fiercely determined man on a mission, earning our empathy.

And all the while we wonder: Is this really the same guy who played a sitcom stooge in "Malcolm in the Middle"?