I was at an event honoring Dick Van Dyke about eight years ago when the man of the hour paid an unexpected compliment to a member of the audience.

"I just want to say," Van Dyke said at the top of his acceptance speech, "I'm a huge Bryan Cranston fan."

Huh?

At the time, Cranston had just started appearing in a new show, "Malcolm in the Middle," as a hapless father, sort of a nincompoop version of Rob Petrie, largely overshadowed by the maniacal rage of TV wife Jane Kaczmarek and the antics of three bratty kids.

But Van Dyke, as well as astute followers of the sitcom, suspected there was more to this actor than an ability to play the bumbling clown.

Now there is no doubt. "Breaking Bad," which debuts tonight on AMC, is a once-in-a-lifetime showcase for Cranston, who delivers a high-risk and heartbreaking performance that should lead to a few awards of his own. Remember how you felt the first time you saw James Gandolfini on "The Sopranos"? I got the same goosebumps this time around, although the role couldn't be farther from a cocky mob boss.

The premiere opens with a bizarre, disturbing shot of a pair of slacks flying through the desert air over a lonely dirt road. At the wheel of a runaway RV is a man (Cranston) wearing a gas mask, tennis shoes, tighty whities -- and nothing else.

At this point, you might suspect you've accidentally stumbled onto the worst porn movie of all time and want to change the channel. Don't. The scene slowly and brilliantly makes sense over the course of the first episode, which quickly transports us back to three weeks earlier, where we get to know that driver who calls himself Walter White.

The name only hints at his total blandness. A former award-winning scientist, he's now teaching chemistry at the local high school where his class treats him like he's some obscure element on the periodic table. To make ends meet, he works shifts at a car wash, often being bullied by his boss into wiping down cars, a menial act that has one of his students in stitches. His pregnant wife, played by Anna Gunn, serves him veggie bacon and coddles him like a shy teenager. Sex between the two is slightly less stimulating than flossing.

Oh, and then there's his nagging cough ... and anyone who's watched a movie or TV show in the past 60 years knows what that means.

Yep, White has terminal lung cancer, not to mention deep financial debts. That's when he decides he can use his chemical wizardry to make a killing in the crystal-meth business, a career choice that rapidly and horribly goes wrong, eventually leading to that outrageous RV scene.

Creator Vince Gilligan, a former "X-Files" executive producer and writer of the first three episodes, spends a little too much time on the cat-and-mouse game, forever flinging White and his stonehead accomplice (Aaron Paul) from one perilous situation to the next. The most compelling drama created on the screen is instead on Cranston's weathered face.

The 51-year-old actor displayed the goofy side of middle-age angst in "Malcolm," whether he was reliving his days as a rollerskating king or becoming so obsessed with painting that he started stealing from his kids. White is another character who looks wistfully to the past, but it's with the kind of glumness that takes me back to Jack Lemmon's 1973 performance as a sad-sack, financially strapped businessman in "Save the Tiger" or any number of versions of "Death of a Salesman."

In fact, Cranston would be perfect for the next rendition, especially if you want a Willy Loman who's willing to lie naked in the fetal position on the bathroom floor or go over a pros-and-con list on the toilet seat, both of which he does here with unflinching humility.

This is the second original series from AMC, which just saw its first effort, "Mad Men," take home a Golden Globe. With "Breaking Bad," the cable channel must be recognized as a potential powerhouse factory, one capable of competing with FX and HBO, and Cranston is the first breakout star of the year.

We've got to listen to Dick Van Dyke more often.

njustin@startribune.com • 612-673-7431