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Of interest to the OP perhaps (though to be viewed carefully, on account of spoilers), and anyone else - during the show's original run, the fashion bloggers Tom and Lorenzo did a regular feature called Mad Style where they analyzed how the show used fashion to enhance character. It's fascinating stuff, and pretty incredible just how much work went into the look and style of the production.
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Nov 19, 2020 20:11
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awesome writeups jerusalem! been a treat re-experiencing this show with you. eagerly looking forward to the rest!
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Nov 19, 2020 22:02
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Fighting Trousers posted:Of interest to the OP perhaps (though to be viewed carefully, on account of spoilers), and anyone else - during the show's original run, the fashion bloggers Tom and Lorenzo did a regular feature called Mad Style where they analyzed how the show used fashion to enhance character. It's fascinating stuff, and pretty incredible just how much work went into the look and style of the production. I'll probably avoid it just for fear of spoilers, but I remember a similar blog being run during Hannibal about the art, set design, wardrobe and most importantly the cooking, and it was a sheer joy to read along with. Quoting your post so I have a link to look back to when I'm done with the series, thanks 
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Nov 19, 2020 22:32
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There are a lot of special features up on Youtube with Janie Bryant, Mad Men's costume designer, talking about the costumes in each episode. She is very good at her job.
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Nov 19, 2020 23:17
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Hey Jerusalem theres alot of great stuff online when it comes to production design and Mad Men, people like Jane Bryant (who designed the costumes) and Matthew Weiner's near obsessive attn to detailquote:One of the keys to “Mad Men” was Weiner’s edict that it not be a stylized version of the 1960s, something which has become common in bigscreen period filmmaking. “Having so much detail and sweat stains and ashes and broken furniture and cracked glass and dirt on the walls and all that other stuff that makes it feel more like a real thing than like a movie, so that everyone’s imagination becomes employed,” Weiner said. “And when you work with people that good, you can’t even believe how much story comes up.” The AMC behind the scenes vignettes went into it. Dunno if its on the blurays. Heres a link to more interviews: https://www.google.com/amp/s/artdepartmental.com/blog/tv-sets-mad-men-seasons-1-3/amp/
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Nov 23, 2020 01:57
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Season 2, Episode 1 - For Those Who Think Young Written by Matthew Weiner, Directed by Tim Hunter Don Draper posted:They can't do what we do, and they hate us for it. As Chubby Checker calls out to the listener to "Twist Again, Like We Did Last Summer", we get out first look at returning characters 9 months after the end of the first remarkable season of this show. Joan Holloway dresses for work, careful to check that her figure is showcased appropriately. A now slim Peggy applies just a dab of perfume, no sign of the unexpected baby she ended the season with. At his expensive apartment, Pete is helped by an adoring Trudy to dress for work. At the offices of Sterling Cooper, a lock is placed on Don Draper's door - a big deal in 1960 apparently, when privacy was far from a guarantee. Betty has seemingly taken up horse-riding and is doing well at it, and as always hungrily drinking up and and all approval that comes her way. And then there's Don. Our first sight of him this season, 9 months since we saw him last alone and miserable in an empty house... he's taking off a shirt in what looks like a hotel room, encouraged by a female voice. But it isn't what it seems, the "hotel" is actually a domestic looking Doctor's Office, and he's undressing for a pleasant but entirely professional nurse. She marvels at his weight (not fat, he is tall and well-built) but the doctor himself is focused on the less obvious health concerns. Don is only here because of an insurance physical, his last check-up was quite some time ago. The doctor notes a higher blood pressure than he'd like, and Don - until seconds earlier feeling fit, healthy and confident - finds himself troubled. A feeling that only grows more pronounced when the doctor starts asking him questions about when his own parents died. In that regard at least, Don is confident: his mother died in childbirth and his father died in an accident, there is nothing there that could impact on HIM. But why is the doctor asking these questions, is there something wrong with him? Nothing a change of lifestyle won't fix, the doctor telling him what he already knows (and ignoring his bullshit responses to how much he drinks): he drinks too much, smokes too much, and lives too high-stress a job not to be looking after himself, it'll hit him all at once if he's not careful. He writes him a script to lower his blood pressure (and because it's 1960, tosses in some phenobarbital to help him relax because why not!?!) and gives Don a warning he doesn't want to accept. He's 36 and can't go as hard as he used to.   60 years later it's kinda crazy to think of a guy in his mid-30s getting this kind of talk, but back then not so much. Forgetting the heavy alcohol and drug use, don't forget that the average life expectancy for a man in 1960 was 66 years old. Don IS middle-aged, a thought that must strike him with some degree of confusion, since it probably seems like only yesterday he was living up his mid-20s in Manhattan with his beautiful girlfriend. Now he has to start worrying about blood pressure!?! Betty and her friend Sarah Beth Carson are leaving the stables, discussing Sarah's daughter who she has recently discovered is hoarding the dimes she has been given and skipping lunch. Horrifyingly, Betty's reaction to this is that at least she is watching her weight. Even worse is that Sarah kind of shrugs and admits that it is nice her young daughter is "slimming down", forgetting her own concern to focus on the "positive" of her daughter's eating disorder. A handsome younger man - Arthur Case - stops by them on a horse to case a dazzling smile at them, though his charm completely disappears when the staffer leading his horse asks if he'd like to dismount here and go straight to his car. "No," he grunts dismissively, turning a,"Can you believe this poo poo?" look at the two women. His horse is lead away and both Sarah and Betty have no concern about his lovely attitude beyond an awareness that he is still a beginner and didn't want the embarassment of a poor or failed dismount right in front of them. Betty is mildly scandalized when Sarah admits that sometimes she chats with Arthur, but Sarah sees nothing wrong with it: he's engaged, which means he is "safe". Betty admits she wouldn't have any idea what to say to him in any case, amusing Sarah who suspects this is more about Betty being worried about talking to any man who isn't her husband. Now it is her turn to be mildly scandalized though when Betty hopes into her car without removing her riding boots: doesn't the smell of manure bother her. Betty shrugs and even manages a laugh: she has small children, the smells just kind of all blend together. At Sterling Cooper there is considerable excitement among the secretarial staff... and a concerned Joan Holloway. The magic box that Don Draper sarcastically joked about in the first season has become a reality: Sterling Cooper now has a photocopier. Paul Kinsey arrives (he has a beard now!) and declares the photocopier a Valentine's Day present for all the ladies, though not one they can wear around their neck (so it's been roughly 2-3 months in show time since the last season). It's a problem for Joan though, it's far bigger than she expected and she isn't sure where to put it. At first she suggests removing the lockers and putting it into the break room, alarming Hildy who almost pleads with her not to take away their break room. Her next suggestion is putting it into an office, and now it is Paul's turn to, if not plead, at least make a plea to the woman who enjoys some small measure of power over him: they're already doubling up, please don't add a photocopier to the mix! The two deliverymen (black of course, and probably lucky if they have access to any kind of break room at all let alone an office in 1960) assure Joan that wherever she wants it, they will happily put it there... she just has to make a decision. Joan considers, and comes to a solution that will offend nobody... but also please nobody: for now, they're just gonna leave it right where it is plonked directly in the middle of the floor. This photocopier will be a godsend for the secretaries, but right now it's a major headache for Joan.  In the conference room, things are tense. Ken, Harry, Sal and Freddy Rumsen are seated around the table with Peggy and another account executive named Dale. There is a lavish spread of food in the center of the table... and none of them are eating. It's protocol, they have to wait for Don to arrive before they can begin eating, and Don isn't there yet. Ken is the first to crack, but the others warn him they won't follow suit if he tries to eat. Paul arrives with a smile on his face that soon fades when he admits that he got his copy written so late that he didn't get it to the Art Department - a fact Salvatore obviously knows too well - which leads Harry of all people to critique him. As they squabble, Freddy has bigger problems: he's dry and this meeting was supposed to have already started, and he has an unspoken agreement with the firm that he gets to hoof it out of there every lunchtime to go to his local bar and get alcohol into himself. The others are surprisingly sympathetic to Freddy's usually charming alcoholism being replaced by the jitters, assuring him that the "rule" only applies to eating and he'll be allowed to drink now if he likes. Throughout all this, Peggy gets some unwelcome reminders of her position thrown at her. She's a Junior Copywriter now, she's here on equal footing to present work she has written and then developed with the Art Department (something Paul failed to do!)... but they keep talking to her as if she was still a secretary. Are these all the glasses? Where is Don? Go find out where he is and when he'll arrive etc. She forces herself to take it all in stride, agreeing to go find out what is going on, perhaps telling herself that if she hadn't been there they'd have sent the junior "man" to do the same thing... even if she knows they'd have just stuck their head out the door and yelled at a secretary to do it. Once she's gone though the gossip starts. Dale in particular thinks he has cracked the case: she disappears for 2 months, comes back having lost all that weight AND gets a promotion? Clearly Don Draper got her pregnant! It's patronizing, misogynistic... and depressingly almost entirely accurate, the only thing he got wrong was who got her pregnant. The culprit arrives just that minute actually, Pete attracted by the sound of laughter. It's unclear if he's heard these other rumors, done the math, and asked himself some deeply uncomfortable questions about their two trysts, but he gives no sign of unease when he declares his own theory: she went away to fat camp, obviously! Unaware of this gossip about her, Peggy approaches Don's new secretary... Lois! It seems she got out of the switchboard office and made it to a desk, and she clearly likes it better... perhaps too much. When Peggy asks where Don is, Lois tells her all she knows if that he called saying he was going to a movie and would be late... and then can't help but crack a joke about how he might be going to see Pinocchio (a movie about a boy who lies). Peggy takes this in, turns to go... and then can't help herself. She's loyal to Don for the kindness and mentoring he's shown her, but she's also still got some level of professional pride in her old role, and she doesn't appreciate Lois' own approach. So she comes back and puts a startled Lois in her place: how dare she insinuate that MR. Draper might have been lying, or be somewhere else? How dare she speak openly about what he's said and done to her? Taking a page from Joan's book (but far harsher than Joan ever was with her) she repeatedly asks Lois if she knows where MR. Draper is until Lois finally realizes the answer she is supposed to give: he's out. Just that, nothing more, no embellishment, no explanation or cover-up. Just "he's out." Peggy nods, thanks her and walks away, having also exorcised a little of her frustration at the way the men were treating her. Lois, meanwhile, is left stunned at being scolded like a little girl... to the point she even fearfully asked,"Are you going to tell on me?" like they were still schoolkids. She may be missing the anonymity (and power) of that switchboard room right about now.   Where is Don? He's in a bar taking the doctor's advice to heart by... drinking scotch, smoking, and eating a hearty meal of steak, egg and tomato. He notices a young man also at the bar reading Meditations in an Emergency by Frank O'Hara and just to make conversation asks him how he's enjoying it. The man notes that O'Hara wrote some of it in this very bar, but doesn't offer much more beyond that. The two men are strangers, Don has only spoken to him out a sudden desire for human contact, and the other man isn't particularly keen to stop his reading just to talk to a stranger about said reading. It's clear he and Don are also from particularly different worlds, as he lightly scoffs at Don saying reading in a bar makes you feel like you're doing something: he clearly thinks the need to have to do "something" is overrated. When Don asks him more about the book, as politely as he can (which isn't very) he simply remarks that he doesn't think Don would enjoy it and goes back to reading. Don - who let's be frank is the intruder here, dude was just reading his book! - is somewhat taken aback by this, as always put out whenever he gets a reminder that he isn't the center of everybody's world. Roger Sterling is back at the center of his though. Back in place at his old office, taking it easier than he once did but still very much back in the saddle, Roger is enjoying his old role... and the old perks that came with it, including Joan Holloway. Their affair is over, but there is still some fun he can have with her, and part of that is openly admitting to her when she shows up to answer his call that he just wanted to see "that valentine heart". He's talking, of course, about her rear end for when she walks away, and with a smirk she tells him he'll get to see it when she goes... but was there actually something work-related he wanted? No, if anything he wanted a chance to moan about his wife some more (man, the women he cheats on his wife with must love these conversations): he's taking her to Lutece and he wants to know what the "living" are up to. Joan knows him too well though, he loves Mona (and more importantly, appreciates her after how she looked after him following his two heart attacks) and this is just a bit of pouting. As is his queries about her "Jewish doctor", as apparently Joan is now in a very serious relationship with a man who Roger wants to take every opportunity to "playfully" denigrate". He admits as much, noting that he's fully aware their own relationship remains a thing of the past. It must be serious though, because Joan admits she has "decided" when he needs to propose to her by, and that whoever her man is, he is also fully aware of when she has "scheduled" their happy moment to be. For any other faults Joan might have, knowing exactly what she wants and going about getting it aren't one of them. Unfortunately for Roger (and perhaps fortunately for Joan), a call over the intercom informs him that Herman "Duck" Phillips wants to see him. He tells her to admit him, and has to strain his head around to see past Duck's entering form as Joan leaves with a little shake in her "Valentine's heart" for him that he almost doesn't get to see. If that wasn't enough to put him in a bad mood, Duck's opening line would put him over the edge, the always pregnant meaning in the phrase,"Got a second?" Duck is working hard on trying to land the Martinson's Coffee account, which is exactly the type of account Roger wants them to have. The trouble is, they want to market to younger people, and young people don't drink coffee, they drink Pepsi. The solution is an advertising campaign that attracts young consumers, but for that they need young writers and artists which Sterling Cooper does NOT have. Roger disputes that, to him EVERYBODY is young, but Duck is specific, he wants 25-year-olds and younger, and he wants artist/writer teams. Or rather, Martinson's Coffee wants that, and Duck is running out of excuses for why they don't have what the client wants. So he wants them to hire a pairing on even if only for this coffee account, and he wants Roger to sell Don on the idea. Roger is confused, why should HE argue Duck's case to Don? This in turn confuses Duck, Roger told him this was the way things worked, Roger himself told him that. Roger says this doesn't sound like him, and insists that Duck can handle it just fine: he just has to think of Don as a very intelligent man who is also a child who has to have his own way all the time is all!   There is a lot left explicitly unsaid in this scene, not least of which is that the easy camaraderie and mutual respect present between Duck and Don in the last episode has not lasted. But there's also something in Duck's misunderstanding on how things work. Because I can absolutely see what happened in my own head without it ever being stated. Roger came back to work and suddenly there's a new Head of Account Services, plus the Creative Director is a Partner now. For Roger, the fear that he was being replaced or slowly edged out must have been very real. So I can absolutely see him taking Duck aside and telling him,"I'm the bridge between Accounts and Creative, all that goes through me" just to keep his own status alive in the firm. As time passed and he settled back in and realized his position remain secure, I don't doubt that he completely forgot he ever told Duck that. Now it's cropping up again and Roger either genuinely doesn't remember or is trying to pretend he never said it, and once again his own desire to have things his own way is causing problems for other people. Don returns to the office and asks Lois if he had any calls as he hands her his coat and hat... and she reminds him that in addition to his calls, he also had his 12pm in the Conference Room. His face falls as he remembers belatedly, and he turns on his heel and heads straight for the room. There are no apologies when he arrives though (apart from Paul's sarcastic "sorry we're late" offered the extremely late Don's way), he just walks in and wakes Dale up to see what he's come up with. The others are too busy grabbing at the now available food to care, having been killing time drinking and arguing about whether girls really like chocolates at Valentine's or not. Dale, jerking awake, suggests that Kinsey could go first, putting Paul on the spot. Don sees he isn't ready and asks Peggy if she has anything, but she reminds him as Junior Copywriter she just wrote what Dale is going to be pitching, so the focus shifts back to Paul. Timidly, knowing it's not good, he offers a series of Indian puns based on the subject of the meeting: Mohawk Airlines. Don listens, unimpressed, more-so when he asks to at least see the art and Sal informs him that this is the first he's heard this pun-based advertising copy too. Don doesn't get mad or yell at Paul, he simply instructs him and that's bad enough, as Kinsey is left feeling like a student as Don lays out the basics of advertising: know your audience. He's currently writing for the benefit of other writers, puns he knows they'll like etc, when he should be trying to entice regular people to fly Mohawk Airlines. Sal brings over the art for Dale and Peggy's pitch, and this at least has some meat on the bones. They've come up with potential slogans, as well as made use of the market research to identify the aspects of flying people dislike (lack of comfort, turbulence etc) and had Sal make art that hides or downplays those aspects. Don, not in the best mood, isn't buying it though: their slogans are uninspired, they've played it too safe re: market research, and they haven't captured the right spirit. He talks for himself, but in a way that makes his own experiences seem universal. That old Don Draper magic is there as he casts a spell on them as he talks about forgetting the Indian aspect but acknowledging the exotic, the "fantastic", the way it makes you feel etc. The effect is spoiled a little as he waxes lyrical on the subject... then pauses and mutters,"Blah blah blah" because his own heart isn't in it. His point has been made though, he wants them to go away and come back with something exciting, adventurous, new with maybe just a hint of sex appeal, a suggestion rather than anything explicit, to let the public's imagination run away with itself. Knowing it's futile, Paul asks if they have till Friday to get it done, and Don corrects him: tomorrow. He leaves, and the gathered ad-men (and woman) consider Don's lengthy ramble on the qualities needed to attract the consumer.... and come to the conclusion it's all about shorter skirts.  I'd like to say it was just because they were tired and hungry, but I have a feeling they'd have come to the same conclusion if Don had been on time and they'd all been well-fed and rested. Betty returns home where Sally is happily making Don a macaroni-coated Valentine's Day card. After sending Carla ("the girl") outside to bring in Bobby who is "turning blue" (so Betty saw him, saw it was too cold... and came inside to tell somebody else to bring him in?) she happily asks Sally if she got lots of Valentine's Day cards herself. Sally did, but Betty is not pleased to hear that the teacher made everybody make a card for everybody else. She complains this defeats the purpose (she wants to enjoy the reflected glory of her daughter being popular and in-demand), then sits down and allows Sally to pull her riding boots off. Sally eagerly climbs into them, the boots taking up most of her own legs, and tells her mother she wants to go riding with her. Betty is having none of it though, claiming this is due to riding being too dangerous, but probably also because horse riding is one of the few places/times that Betty can have just to herself, just for her. Back in the office, the lock on Don's door isn't really getting much use as Roger Sterling comes striding in like he owns the place (well technically I guess he does) and pours himself a drink. It's a business visit under the pretext of hanging out, of course, complete with a line about how he is trying to avoid drinking alone to prove he's not an alcoholic. Don, no fool, knows something is up, and doesn't buy it at all when Roger declares that it is Cooper who has sent down the edict from on high that they'll be bringing in younger talent to work on the Martinson's Coffee account. He correctly sniffs out that this is spearheaded by Accounts, which means Duck, and complains that youth doesn't necessarily offer a fresh perspective: if anything, they're too young to know they are young, and that causes problems. Roger, though he is polite and sympathetic, hasn't come to ask Don however, but to tell him. He is just working on diplomatic ways to pass that information on. He can understand Don's impassioned argument that clients need to be reminded they want to stand out and not fit in, but it's a fait accompli. He's even brought in a list of potential young talent, and despite himself Don gets a kick out of the fact Roger asked Paul Kinsey to write it up and Kinsey was too naive to realize he was effectively writing up a list of potential replacements for himself. When he continues to balk at the idea of the hire, however, Roger gives him another gentle reminder that this isn't a discussion. Instead of saying he'll talk it through with Duck or take his ideas onboard, he simply smiles and tells Don to think of it as a challenge: now he can show Duck he's wrong by doing exactly what he asks for, because after all if Don himself is right then the campaign will fail. What's left unspoken is that if Duck is right, Don will have to admit it, so either way it's a win-win for Roger, though obviously he'd prefer the result that makes him the most money. After a surprisingly clumsy fade-to-black, the scene transitions to the Savoy Hotel Lobby bar. Don sits listening to the music, watching carts of champagne and roses wheeled around for the large Valentine's Day crowd. He spots an older man and a younger woman sitting together, but this his attention is drawn to his spectacularly beautiful wife as she arrives for their Valentine's Date. She is all dressed up, her hair, jewellery and wardrobe all molded to perfection, and for this romantic evening (which Don probably thinks of as a cynical marketing holiday) at least she takes Don's breath away. As he removes his coat and starts to talk cryptically about their evening, her attention is caught by the younger woman and older man that Don spotted earlier. She calls out in surprise to "Juanita", the other woman taking a moment and then gasping in happy recognition of Betty. It turns out they're old roommates from Betty's modeling days, and in an encounter that is awkward for everybody BUT Betty she eagerly chats up her old friend. All the warning signs are there but Betty completely misses them: Juanita's older "date" is clearly uncomfortable, he's introduced as being from Detroit, Jaunita has to struggle to think what her own occupation is, she's uncomfortable about Betty gaping at her jewellery which she nervously says was a "gift" etc. All the while, Curtis from Detroit looks like he wants to be anywhere but there, while Don stands and tries his best to not wince as Betty keeps asking for more information and even asks one of them to provide her a business card so she can get Jaunita's number. Don finally hands over one of his own and Betty writes her number on it, tells Juanita they'll have a nice long lunch, and finally the other couple makes a welcome retreat. Betty and Don settle down on the couch to drink, Betty expressing surprise that Juanita would end up with somebody like Curtis. Don, trying his best to be diplomatic, states he doesn't think it is permanent... and Betty STILL doesn't get it, instead amused as she asks Don what he thinks it would be like to still be dating at their age (Betty isn't even 30 yet, by the way!). Finally Don has to just come right out with it, though he does it as gently as possible: Juanita isn't a decorator, she's a "Party Girl".  
Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 06:57 on Nov 24, 2020 |
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Nov 23, 2020 15:58
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Betty finally gets it, though she's less scandalized than she was by Sarah admitting she talks to a man who isn't her husband. Instead she seems intrigued, and even has a little fun by asking Don HOW he knew that, which Don takes in good humor, playfully asking her how stupid she thinks he is. They put Juanita aside, and Betty asks again what their plans as. Don's response delights her as he asks if she'd like room service, and she realizes that he's booked a room for the two of them at the Savoy for the night. Upstairs in the room, she slips Sally's Valentine's heart out of her purse and passes it to Don, then retreats to the bathroom telling him she "came prepared". As he undoes his tie and removes his shoes, she talks from the bathroom, back on Juanita, contemplating just how much she charges. Don's not particularly comfortable with this line of discussion, or her admitting she once told Juanita she wanted to have "hundreds" of babies with Don. But his attention is soon diverted when she leaves the bathroom and he realizes what she meant by coming prepared. Under her dress she was wearing stockings and a bustier, and all Don - master of words and images - can manages is,"Wow" when he sees her. He slips into the bathroom to freshen up himself, ready for a magical evening with his beautiful wife on the most romantic night of the year. Pete Campbell - who still needs to pay the mortgage on this apartment - has a less lavish Valentine's planned for Trudy. He comes home with a Schrafft's bag, pulling out a heart box of chocolates. It seems Trudy wrote him a little love card herself and he admits he got it... via Hildy. Rather than thanking his thoughtful, romantic wife for the thought or even enjoying a giggle together over how it was found, he casually reminds her he warned her about putting things in his bag, then instructs her to open the box because he wants some chocolate himself. Hard to think why he seems to have such bad luck with ladies, huh? Trudy's clear discomfort isn't down to her shambling oaf (when it comes to romance) of a husband though. She tells him she spoke with Jennifer Crane and discovered she is pregnant, and Pete completely misses the point, muttering that this isn't possible because Harry would have told HIM if that was the case. He didn't tell him because he doesn't know, Trudy explains, Jennifer plans to tell him this evening as a romantic surprise for Valentine's Day (I guess she took him back after the Hildy fiasco). Finally, belatedly (after she tells him that dinner will be late), Pete realizes what is bothering Trudy and takes a seat beside her. To his credit, gently if a little patronizingly he reminds her that just because Jennifer has gotten pregnant and she hasn't doesn't mean anything bad. But now Trudy is in venting mode, giving voice to her upset as she seethes about a "dumpy" woman she saw on second avenue who had a young daughter pushing a little son in a pram AND she was pregnant to boot! Pete is at least trying to listen, but gets confused, instead of just being there as a sounding board for her emotional state he tries to make sense of what she is saying so he can come up with solutions she doesn't need or want. So.... the daughter was pregnant? he asks, and she has to explain again it was the dumpy woman. Her point being, EVERYBODY seems to be getting pregnant (oh boy if she knew about Peggy), they're all in a big club together and Trudy isn't! Pete however FINALLY hits the right note when Trudy bemoans that while she has more than the dumpy woman does, Jennifer Crane has it all. Instead of chastising her or pointing out her assets, he simply gently takes her hand and asks her if she REALLY believes that. Just that, the act of actually listening and offering support, is enough for her. Having that attention, that care, from her husband goes some way to mollifying her emotional state and she admits that she is in a better position than Jennifer Crane. Pete slyly reaches for the chocolates and slides them over to her, and they both eat one, giggling together, an actual shared moment of love between the two on Valentine's Day. Don and Betty are sharing a moment too, though not the one either hoped for. Making love in the hotel bed, they reach a point where both realize that neither (sadly, Don's lack of is probably the greater concern for both) is going to reach climax. Don rolls off of her and she lights a cigarette after offering him assurance that everything is okay... though she does quietly offer that she wishes he would just tell her what he wants her to do. He doesn't answer that of course, because he can't: it's all wrapped up in a warped sense of masculinity AND his on-going battle with seeing his wife as a sexual being. He can't admit there is something wrong with him sexually for fear of what it means to his identity as a male (which is also tied up in his sense of virility), he can't be open with her about his fantasies or desires because he still sees her foremost as mother and not a wife.   Instead, Betty offers the excuses for him: they drank too much, she's affected by it too, they haven't eaten enough etc. Don doesn't answer but he does seize on the bit about food to call up room service, though even here he ends up emasculated as Betty at first relays her order to him, then overrides it, then takes the phone from him when he offers it to her so she can give the order herself. Even when Don turns on the television and starts channel hopping, she takes control there too, telling him to leave it on Jackie Kennedy's tour of the White House. It is an unusual role reversal, more-so because Betty so naturally takes charge and Don so readily takes orders - is this purely because he couldn't perform? As an aside - the White House tour aired on Valentine's Day 1962, which means over a year has passed between the last episode of season 1 (Thanksgiving 1960) and this one rather than the 2-3 months I thought? That seems like a hell of a leap in time, especially given the subject of Peggy's brief absence is still office gossip. Don and Betty are far from the only ones spending their Valentine's watching Jackie Kennedy show off the White House though. Salvatore happily takes desert from a woman who cuddles up on the couch beside him to watch, Sal has a girlfriend now? Joan Holloway and her man are also watching... well kind of, they're mostly just making out on the couch, though Joan keeps looking away to watch Jackie Kennedy, the "Queen" of "Camelot". And finally there is Pete... just watching some random show, Trudy nowhere to be seen on Valentine's night, and all the candy eaten. Another clumsy transition via fade-to-black brings the show to the day after, with Betty folding laundry while Francine tells her all about the Jackie Kennedy special the night before. Betty pretends that she didn't watch it, coyly telling Francine she was too "busy", which delights Francine who laughs that she shouldn't rub it in. Her own evening with Carlton (apparently she either forgave or got over his infidelity) was "delightfully disappointing" though she admits she'd rather have dull if she at least knows where she stands. For any other faults she might have, Francine is at least honest. For Betty, appearance is everything, and she'd rather live with the illusion that her and Don's romantic life is alive and well than admit that - like Francine herself freely admits - the thrill is largely gone. Safer for Betty is sharing the story of Juanita. Here again though she shifts things up so not only she looks better, but it reflects a shared companionship between herself and Don. In her version of the story, it was her who realized that Juanita was a call-girl, with Don agreeing that her assessment was right. Francine is thrilled, namedropping an Elizabeth Taylor movie about a call-girl but admitting it is probably nothing like the fantasy. Betty doesn't judge Juanita (too much), noting they shared common interests and goals and she's more fascinated about how different they ended up: after all, she remembers what it was like being poor in Manhattan, but Don showed up with a fur coat and she ended up in suburban paradise, while Juanita is spending evenings with old men from Detroit. Francine shares a story too about her days being poor, explaining that she'd simply write a letter to her father whenever she needed cash, claiming she was going to Havana (pre-Revolution, obviously). Without fail he would send her $25, and Betty - who tried to convinced Francine she picked up on Juanita's profession - mistakenly thinks it was spending cash a loving father sent his beloved daughter. Not at all, Francine freely admits he was a degenerate gambler and sent her the cash along with instructions on how to bet the money for him. She never went to Havana, the bets were never made, and her father just assumed that the cash was all lost and chalked it up to bad luck and probably went on to another dozen get rich quick schemes to try and hit it big. Betty is delighted by Francine's cunning (it's a concept that would never have occurred to her) and gasps that this is "criminal"... but she also finds it, and seemingly the concept of Juanita's life as a callgirl, wickedly tantalizing: lying and pretending for money, and it works?   At Sterling Cooper, Harry, Paul, Pete and Salvatore all take up seats at a table on the main secretarial floor, wanting a clear view reception. The others want to use the conference room (or Pete's office, as he brags there is plenty of space) but Paul insists they stay here. Ken arrives and congratulates a delighted Harry on Jennifer's pregnancy, and Pete offers his own too, but then they're cut off by Paul's sudden warning. He's seen what he wanted to see: young people. He's horrified, these are two of the names from HIS list. He becomes frantic when the others point out that Duck has told them several times that he'd like younger staff in Creative, realizing far too late that he may have signed his own death warrant. Pete and Ken are both unconcerned though, the former because he knows Duck can't force Don to do anything (NOBODY can force Don to do anything, as he found out for himself last season) and the latter convinced it's all a scheme by Don to let Duck hang himself with bad ideas. They're joined by a confused Peggy, who has seen everybody gathered at a table and wants to know if there is a meeting, and why she wasn't invited? Sal sighs and asks again if NOW Paul has seen the two young Creatives, they can move to a different, not-so-public space. In Don's office, he looks through the two young men's joint portfolio, they are a writer/artist team and Don - from a different generation - is perplexed by their setup. They work together, do everything together... but one is paid more than the other? The slightly older man (25!) in the suit explains that he has a writer's background AND is a citizen so he gets more cash than his partner (in a sweater) whose English is not the best and only contributes "some" writing. Neither are married, both are at pains to insist their portfolio only covers two years of work, and Don finds himself struggling to find common ground with either. In the end, he settles on an old standby, a question he himself has been asked on every job interview he ever had: have either of them ever been fired? In the hallway, Joan is considering the placement of the photocopier with two new deliverymen (one black, one white this time) when she spots Lois and takes her aside for a moment. Theresa told her that Lois was crying in the break room yesterday? Something that Joan has expressly forbidden! Lois tries to explain but just makes things worse for herself by referring to Peggy as Peggy and NOT Miss Olson. This causes Joan to warn her about running to complain to her, confusing Lois since Joan was the one who wanted to talk to her. Joan is tough though, shutting down her protests to remind her that crying can be done in her own apartment but not here at work.... AND Lois has to rethink HER attitude to MISS Olson. Lois is bewildered, both by the sudden assault as well as Joan's sudden deference to the girl she used to supervise and often belittle. Keeping herself under control though, Lois joins Joan at the photocopier where she's asked her opinion on its placement. Lois admits it looks good now, but suspects it will get messy. On this at least, Joan is in full agreement. The creative duo leave Don's office, Don thanking them but pointing out that much of their work feels like it has Julian Koenig's fingerprints on it (he was the man behind the Volkswagen ads being marveled over last season). They shake hands, asking not to be called Mr. Smith since they both have that last name and it can get confusing, especially as they prefer to share an office. Duck arrives as this is being said, and he's delighted at what sounds like good progress. His presense puts both Smiths off though, and the slightly older - Kurt - explains that they'd rather not draw attention by being greeted by both the Creative Director AND the Head of Account Services, it makes it clear they are being considered for jobs here and they don't need word getting around just yet. Both Don and Duck understand and bid them goodbye, watching as they leave, the two young men happily ogling the secretaries as they go. Duck is pleased of course, because he thinks he is getting his way. Don has a different take on it though, surprising Duck when he points out that he's giving Duck everything he wants and more... so that Duck can have NO excuse if he fails to land the Martinson's Coffee account. This uncharacteristically blunt insult can't go unanswered of course, and Duck reminds Don of something he can sometimes forget: there ARE other ways to think of things than how Don Draper thinks of them.  In Pete's office, he's meeting with Sal, Peggy and Harry on the Clearasil Account. His objections last season to Peggy being on the Account came to nothing, he seems to have seen the value of her insight just as Don said she'd have, and he agrees with her call that they get testimonials from Sixth Graders next. Harry is surprised, do girls that young NEED Clearasil? Peggy and Pete are almost in lock-step when they reply that it doesn't matter. They don't have to explain it, they're selling a solution to a problem that people may not have, which doesn't mean they won't want it (or think they NEED it). Paul bursts into the office, dismayed that two more young'uns have just popped in for an interview. Harry reminds him that HE made the list and can expect everybody who was on it to show up, and Sal shakes his head and calls him an idiot. Peggy reminds them all that she's only 22, a not-too-gentle point that they have youth if they need it, but the others disagree: she doesn't "count", though they don't elaborate why... presumably because she's a woman and they want young men. They're all saved by Ken, who swoops in to declare that they should all go get drunk to celebrate Harry's upcoming child. Everybody seems keen, though Peggy reminds Sal they have to pitch the revamped Mohawk ideas to Don (who she calls Mr. Draper). He points out that Dale isn't there, and she retorts that "Mr. Draper doesn't care", which he can't argue with. Everybody leaves, but as Peggy is collecting her things, Pete muses that he doesn't understand what the big deal with kids is... and then outright asks Peggy herself, does SHE want kids? Staring directly at the man who (seemingly unknowingly) fathered the child she didn't even know she was carrying till she went into labor, she manages to get out an,"Eventually..." which he seizes on: yes! Eventually! Why does it have to be NOW!?! In his office, Don is reading Meditations in an Emergency (screw you random bar dude, Don Draper will prove that the book could be for him!) when Peggy and Sal arrive. The Mohawk art has been repurposed, with a new slogan of "Where are you going?" and a stewardess in a shorter skirt more prominently in the frame. He doesn't like the slogan, which could be interpreted different ways, and also unimpressed with Peggy's backup of "Come away with us." He's not pleased Dale - who Sal claims is sick - is not there, and finds the whole thing uninspiring. Peggy points out they've basically given him EXACTLY what he asked for, but that's the problem. They took his suggestions and went the most obvious route, and it's left him cold. One thing does catch his eye though, and he grabs a red marker from Sal and frames up a small girl in the background rushing towards the man in the foreground. Now it is Peggy who is unimpressed, openly telling the Creative Director his idea is sentimental. Sal is shocked but Don allows it, agreeing that she's right... that it has sentiment, which doesn't necessarily make it sentimental. What follows is half a master-class in advertising for Peggy's benefit... and half Don quietly raging against Duck's pursuit of a gimmick he thinks will replace the actual emotional and intellectual processes that Creative goes through. He rejects Peggy's assertion that "sex sells", calling it an oversimplification from those who don't respect their work. As a creative, SHE is the product, she has to make herself feel something, and that will resonate through the work and onto the client and eventually the audience. It's not sex, when he spoke about the thrill of seeing a bit more leg, it wasn't the actual sexual thrill he meant but the sense of adventure, the excitement of something new and unexpected. People who say "sex sells" want to reduce the work, thought and artistic drive that goes into a campaign, because - in Don's mind at least, he does tend to overrate himself - they hate people who can do what they can't. He lifts up Sally's Valentine's card to him, a simplistic and basic work that nonetheless touched him deeply because it came to him through pure love. He tosses that onto the art next to the marked off girl, and then waits for Peggy to find the emotional note she needs. Her first effort falls short - "Welcome Home, Daddy?" - but she readjusts perfectly on the second: "What did you bring me, daddy?" THAT has an emotional resonance that will speak to the types of clients that Mohawk wants, the promise of going somewhere exciting and then returning to a loving family and giving them things you found in the places that Mohawk took you. He dismisses Sal and Peggy and they leave happily, the meeting an unbridled success... surely Dale will regret being sick!   Peggy's triumph is short-lived though. She returns to her and Victor's office... and can barely get the door open, it is stuffed full of people. Sliding her way in, she discovers to her shock that Joan has finally found a location for the photocopier... and gained a measure of revenge on MISS Olson for making one of HER secretaries cry. Joan pays Peggy the proper deference due to a copywriter, and would never allow Lois to badmouth Peggy... but that doesn't mean she won't step up when needed to make sure learn the lesson she offered at the end of the last season: don't forget where you came from. So Peggy has no choice but to sit down at her desk and watch people excitedly play with the new machine. She can't do anything about it, after all that same demand for professionalism she gave Lois has now doubled back on her - Joan is the Office Manager, short of the offices of the top Executives in the firm she can place something like the photocopier wherever she drat well pleases. Don leaves for the evening, riding the elevator down and enjoying overhearing two men who get on at a lower floor discussing office politics as well as their romantic conquests. Or rather, he enjoys it until a lady gets on the lift and they don't stop their ribald talk. Don is revolted at the lack of decorum, personified in the fact one of the men still has his hat on despite being indoors AND in the presence of a lady. Quietly but insistently he tells the man to take his hat off, which has the added bonus of stopping the dirty talk as they stare bewildered at this stranger. "Is there a problem?" the hatless one asks, so Don simply steps forward, removes the other's hat and jams it into his chest. The elevator arrives on the ground floor and Don gestures to the lady to exit first, a silent reminder to both men that there are certain guidelines you follow. He enjoyed their dirty talk, but there is a time and a place for it, and their lack of understanding or care for that simply doubled down on his belief that the younger generation - just as Roger complained last season - are letting standards slip to an unacceptable degree. Evening comes and Betty is driving when the car overheats. She gets out in the middle of a dark, tree-lined road, no street lamps, no light except from her headlights. Another car stops by, driving by an old man with his wife in the passenger seat. They don't know anything about cars, but they agree to call a tow truck from the Esso down the road. That's something at least, but it does leave Betty still alone and effectively stranded in the middle of nowhere. Don returns home where he finds Carla sitting with Bobby as he eats dinner. She explains Betty went out to pick up Sally from ballet. Don pours himself a very, very large drink and then asks Carla if she'd like a lift to the station. Nervously side-eying his large alcoholic drink, she quickly assures him she'll be fine, she likes fresh air from the walk. Once she's gone, Don sits at the table with Bobby who mumbles that he doesn't like the dinner. Don sighs, considers whether it is worth trying to convince him to eat... then decides screw it, he'll just eat it himself. The tow truck has arrived, a mechanic called Kip looking under the hood while Betty jokes that the extent of her knowledge is that you stop when smoke starts to come out of the car. The good news is that it is a simple fan-belt replacement and he has one in the truck, for $9 he can replace it and send her on her way. She is pleased, going into her purse... and finding only $3. She goes back to tell Kip, who shrugs and agrees he can put the rest on account and sort it out later. That's a different issue though, then Don will know there was a problem with the car, and he already criticizes the way she drives. Kip doesn't really see how this is his problem, the best he can offer is that the belt costs $2.55, the rest is his labor and expertise. Betty asks if there is really nothing he can do for a "damsel in distress" and he is slightly surprised, asking if they're bargaining. Betty considers for a second, and then reacts in kind: they are. This starts a flirtatious exchange, both of them suggesting things without saying anything. Without knowing it, Betty is living the example Don tried to instill in Peggy: it's about the feeling more than the act, and in this ultimately harmless exchange she "seduces" Kip who eagerly enjoys the experience of letting himself believe this might lead to something even though he knows it won't. They "bargain" and with a grin he goes to work, quickly replacing the fan-belt and essentially valuing his work at 45 cents after she pays him the $3. There is a moment, just a fleeting moment, where their hands touch as she passes the money and neither lets go. It's not an invitation, but just a further extending on what was a thrill for them both. Kip got to fantasize about the grateful and beautiful woman he "saved", and Betty got to use her sex appeal (and be reminded she still has it) while also indulging in the fantasy of experiencing a muted version of Juanita's life. They part ways, a satisfying if not particularly lucrative experience for them both. As Kip departs, there is a moment of regret from him: perhaps some small part of him thought she really would give it up for $6... but more likely he is just thinking about how he essentially broke even at best on this deal because he let a pretty lady sweet talk him like he was still 14-years-old.  Betty completes her pickup and she and Sally arrive home some time later, Sally rushing straight to the dog which causes Don to wryly remind her that he's here too. She clambers into his lap with a hello, and he informs Betty that Bobby has gone to bed.... where was she? He doesn't demand an answer, it's just pure curiosity, but when Sally innocently proclaims that mommy was late, she has to think for a moment before answering. She eventually settles on an old and easy standby, she got caught up chatting with somebody in the parking lot. Don accepts this without concern, he has no reason not to. Betty joins him on the couch as Sally performs her ballet moves for them both, and he slides an arm around her shoulders. For him it's a happy, domestic moment he's actually around to enjoy. For her, it's nice... but it lacks the thrill of her earlier experience with Kip. Later that evening Don finishes up Meditations in an Emergency. Something in the poem "Mayakovsky" strikes him, and he writes a note on the front page that it "Made me think of you." He signs it with a " - D" and then wraps the book in a package. Taking Polly out for a walk, he lets it double as a way to deliver the parcel. The address and recipient are not seen, whoever the person it made him think of is, the viewer does not know. But what is interesting is the passage he recites to himself: Frank O'Hara posted:Now I am waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern. The country is gray and brown and white and trees. Snows and skies of laughter are always diminishing. Less funny, not just darker. Not just gray. It may be the coldest day of the year. What does he think of that? I mean, what do I? And if I do... perhaps I am myself again. It's an interesting passage to consider, even devoid of the context in which it was written in allusion to Vladimir Mayakovsky. There is the obvious nods to the dual idenities of Don Draper and Dick Whitman, and the sense that Don is still figuring out exactly who he REALLY is: the sophisticated, urbane advertising man or the desperate to escape and be free Dick Whitman. But that first line about seeming beautiful again, and interesting, and modern? I feel like that is a clear reference to Don's startled realization that he is getting old. The entire episode is about the passage of time, of things moving on and changing and not being like they once were. It carries across multiple characters, hell even the photocopier is a sign of the changing times. But Don sits at the forefront of it all. He visited a doctor and was told he has high blood pressure and was reminded he's getting on in years. The firm is looking to hire even younger staff than the ones Don already feels are young. Don couldn't perform adequately in bed with Betty on what should have been the most romantic night of the year. Even that ride in the elevator was a reminder that social norms and standards he once thought were fixed in stone are being changed. For Don it's hard to stomach, especially given how late his "life" started. When it did start, he was at the forefront, and he grew and experienced and reached a point of what felt like perfection: he was respected, in demand, envied, but also fresh and innovative and relied on to come up with the startling ideas that rocked the advertising world and got clients on-board. Now he's seeing all that at risk, the push for younger creatives almost a slap in the face that they don't consider HIM capable of it anymore. Everything is always diminishing, but he's not quite ready to diminish just yet.  Episode Index
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Nov 23, 2020 15:58
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Uhoh, realizing Don was supposed to be 36 by this point - so, 34 in Season 1? - is making my 36-year-old Happy Meal-rear end feel extremely oldJerusalem posted:As an aside - the White House tour aired on Valentine's Day 1962, which means over a year has passed between the last episode of season 1 (Thanksgiving 1960) and this one rather than the 2-3 months I thought? That seems like a hell of a leap in time, especially given the subject of Peggy's brief absence is still office gossip. Yes, it's about a 15 month time jump. Not a production error, as there are other events going on throughout the season that anchor it to '62. This is the season when the show stops just treating the 60's as "Things sure were different back then!" and starts really leaning into actually having historical events unfolding in the background of the characters' personal dramas. At a certain point I was watching the show with Wikipedia already open on my phone, so I could look things up and piece together where we were meant to be, time-wise, and how far we'd jumped between episodes. I never considered the implication there, though - it is kind of strange that the creative department would still be hung up on some drama with Peggy that would've occurred over a year ago at this point.
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Nov 23, 2020 16:43
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Jerus, you rock Your season 1 kept me company through my insomnia last night E: you got a betty peggy in s2e1 part one BrotherJayne fucked around with this message at 17:36 on Nov 23, 2020 |
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Nov 23, 2020 17:27
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Yesssss season 2. I think this is where the show really finds its voice. The sequence where Peggy retools the Mohawk ad to make it more sentimental is just incredible. You covered most of it, but there's one other thing I want to bring up. The two crude men in the elevator undermine Don's belief in sentiment for the Mohawk campaign. These are exactly the type of people they're trying to sell Mohawk flights to: Young businessmen. And what approach would work better on these assholes? A reminder of familial love? Or a reminder that when you take a business trip, you might get a chance to cheat on your wife? Two guys in an elevator is hardly exhaustive research, but you'd definitely be more successful selling air travel to these guys with sex rather than love. Don is over here trying to make something beautiful, and in the elevator life gives him a splash of cold water that says, "A lot of your customers are assholes." It sort of mirrors the disappointment Peggy feels when she returns to her office after doing a great job. You can tell she feels her work is special and meaningful, and then she gets back to her office and the spell is broken. When Don and Peggy are collaborating, something magical is happening, something significant. Otherwise, Sterling Cooper is a pretty mercenary place and not very humanizing. Also, it sounds to me like Don is kind of critical/dismissive when he compares Kurt and Smitty's work to Julian Koenig. In season 1, when the Volkswagen Lemon ad debuted, he said he hated it but didn't elaborate. But by this point it's become clear that Don's work IS sentimental. It's not ironic, like the Lemon ad. Koenig may have enjoyed creating that ad, but he probably didn't dig deep into his own psyche, his own emotions to come up with it. He told a witty joke. This may make advertising seem less meaningful to Don. Don is upset at being dismissed by the Master-of-the-Arts-in-the-humanities-looking dude in the bar (did I mention that Janie Bryant is brilliant at her job?) because the man assumes that Don doesn't have an artistic side. He looks at Don's suit and tie and general demeanor and he sees a man who only cares about making money. This isn't actually the case. Don has a strong creative side. But in constructing his persona, he fully donned the uniform of the money-making class. It's important to him to convince himself that he has artistic characteristics. And he does. But would the man in the bar be impressed with Don's ability to appreciate poetry if he also knew that Don's most important business task was convincing people to keep smoking cigarettes now that everyone knows they cause cancer? Probably not. Betty has replaced her worthless therapist with a form of therapy of her own choosing. You point out that she gets to be alone when riding, which I'm sure is a big part of its appeal. But I also think that the horseback riding is cathartic for her as a metaphor for dealing with her husband, an incredibly difficult person to be married to. A horse is big, powerful, beautiful, and usually silent. All qualities that Don has. And now Betty is in control. She even opts to do a dangerous form of horseback riding, and she is doing well at it. We can see in this season premiere that she's become much more assertive and self-assured in the past 15 months. I think a big part of this is that she found an effective form of self-therapy. I also want to bring up a few other interpretations of Don's inability to perform at the Savoy, because I think it's a good example of how Mad Men uses ambiguity. 1. It's health-related. Don's got high blood pressure and he just started some new medication. Maybe one or both of these factors are affecting him. But he doesn't bring this up to Betty, who blames herself for his performance trouble. 2. Don is kind of tired of her, sexually. In season 1 she tells Dr. Wayne that sometimes when Don makes love to her, it's "obviously what someone else wants" - that is, she believes Don is fantasizing about other sexual partners while he's with her. But we see that he's currently in the habit of going straight home after work (and pounding whiskey), and it's possible he's been faithful ever since Betty used Dr. Wayne to communicate to Don that she suspects his infidelity. She told Dr. Wayne that "maybe I'm not enough." She might have been right about that. 3. Don just found out that Betty's former roommate, who surely had a life very similar to Betty's, became a prostitute. Prostitution is psychologically fraught for Don to think about, as his stepmother never let him forget he was a shameful whorechild. This may tie in to your theory that Don's trouble has to do with thinking of Betty as a mother rather than a wife. It's impressive that they fit all of these possibilities into a scene that plays out so naturally. Jerusalem, what do you think of Duck so far?
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Nov 23, 2020 19:08
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JethroMcB posted:Uhoh, realizing Don was supposed to be 36 by this point - so, 34 in Season 1? - is making my 36-year-old Happy Meal-rear end feel extremely old Jon Hamm and Don are pretty such the same age as the show goes on - the time jumps between seasons keep them at parity.
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Nov 24, 2020 02:30
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Yoshi Wins posted:Don is upset at being dismissed by the Master-of-the-Arts-in-the-humanities-looking dude in the bar (did I mention that Janie Bryant is brilliant at her job?) Oh yeah, that guy's entire wardrobe, hair, and of course casting and performance tells us so much about him and his mindset almost entirely from first sight. Yoshi Wins posted:Betty has replaced her worthless therapist with a form of therapy of her own choosing. You point out that she gets to be alone when riding, which I'm sure is a big part of its appeal. But I also think that the horseback riding is cathartic for her as a metaphor for dealing with her husband, an incredibly difficult person to be married to. A horse is big, powerful, beautiful, and usually silent. All qualities that Don has. And now Betty is in control. She even opts to do a dangerous form of horseback riding, and she is doing well at it. We can see in this season premiere that she's become much more assertive and self-assured in the past 15 months. I think a big part of this is that she found an effective form of self-therapy. I hadn't considered this take at all but I really dig it. I had been looking at it more from the POV of Betty wanting something just for herself. She didn't get that with the modeling, but now the horse riding is her chance to go and do her own thing in own time and as much as she loves her daughter she isn't keen to have to incorporate being a mother into even this aspect of her life. But the idea of the horse as a stand-in for Don is a neat idea. What I particularly like is the idea that Betty doesn't necessarily want to tame or control Don himself, she just wants to know exactly where she stands (as Francine mentions re: herself and Carlton) - when they're at the Savoy together she straight up tells him she'd welcome him telling her exactly what he wants from her in bed. Don can't of course, he's too wrapped up in his own issues while trying to maintain a foolish and paternalistic mindset of "protecting" his wife from his own desires/fetishes/needs etc, when she'd like be an eager participant. Yoshi Wins posted:Jerusalem, what do you think of Duck so far? I don't know if I have quite enough to make a real assessment yet, but I'll say based on his appearances so far that he strikes me as somebody who adapts his personality to fit the audience he's working with. That's kind of a necessity for a Head of Accounts Services, his role is to find a way to keep people happy... but it extends to his peers and that gives him a sense of falseness that I think makes some people instinctively dislike him. We saw it in his first ever scene, where he is too clever for his own good and admits to Cooper that he's not giving his own opinion but adapting it to match what he thinks Cooper wants to hear. He doesn't seem to really have a strong personality of his own, he's kind of a cipher who shifts and changes as circumstances dictate. The one time I've seen him actually give what seems like a genuine response is when Don mocks him over Martinson's and he lets the facade slip and essentially tells Don to go gently caress himself (only worse, because he tells Don what he himself is already afraid of: that other people's way of thinking about advertising might be as relevant or more-so than Don's own). Absolutely love his voice and mannerisms though!
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Nov 24, 2020 03:09
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The exchange between Duck and Roger is so pregnant with meaning and unspoken context, I never gave it much thought in the past but it's really a fascinating scene.quote:After a surprisingly clumsy fade-to-black, quote:Another clumsy transition via fade-to-black Yeah get used to that.
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Nov 24, 2020 04:19
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BrotherJayne posted:E: you got a betty peggy in s2e1 part one It keeps happening!  Thanks, found the mix-up and fixed it. I do however have a wonderful image in my head now of Betty coming out of nowhere to harangue Lois for being a bad secretary 
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Nov 24, 2020 04:52
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Y'know, is Betty on the spectrum?
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Nov 24, 2020 04:53
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The Klowner posted:The exchange between Duck and Roger is so pregnant with meaning and unspoken context, I never gave it much thought in the past but it's really a fascinating scene. Yeah, I quite like Jerusalem's idea that Roger played up how big his role in the company was when he was in the midst of his health scare and then started goofing off again when he realized his position was secure. BrotherJayne posted:Y'know, is Betty on the spectrum? Whoa. I don't think so, but I can see how one could make a case.
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Nov 24, 2020 05:18
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Yoshi Wins posted:Whoa. I don't think so, but I can see how one could make a case. Yeah, I'm watching now with a critical eye
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Nov 24, 2020 05:31
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I feel like I have to post the scene where Betty walks down the staircase from this episode--it really is one of those times where the music just fits the moment perfectly. It almost feels like an ad itself, kind of selling the idea of their relationship: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orSVWAXC6Nw
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Nov 24, 2020 07:59
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Blood Nightmaster posted:I feel like I have to post the scene where Betty walks down the staircase from this episode--it really is one of those times where the music just fits the moment perfectly. It almost feels like an ad itself, kind of selling the idea of their relationship: Wait, is she wearing that fur coat? It has to be, right?
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Nov 24, 2020 09:24
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Blood Nightmaster posted:I feel like I have to post the scene where Betty walks down the staircase from this episode--it really is one of those times where the music just fits the moment perfectly. It almost feels like an ad itself, kind of selling the idea of their relationship: That scene was so incredible I was convinced it was going to be another imaginary fakeout like at the end of season 1. Excellent work as always Jerusalem, I've caught up on the thread while doing my own rewatch (I never caught season seven the first time around and couldn't just jump into it cold) and I love reading your recaps even though I'm well into season three right now.
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Nov 24, 2020 12:43
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Need... more... Jerru... Started a fresh watchthrough, the wifey is kinda watching along Good gods is there lotsa cringe
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Nov 28, 2020 00:19
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Season 2, Episode 2 - Flight 1 Written by Lisa Albert & Matthew Weiner, Directed by Andrew Bernstein Peggy Olson posted:It doesn't mean the same thing to me that it means to you. Pete and Trudy Campbell find themselves strangers in a strange land. Peeking their head through the corridor of an apartment building, thumping music blaring at them, Pete guesses this is the place they're looking for. They've already gone to the wrong place once, Pete apparently surprised that more than one person can have a party at a time. As they make their way up the corridor, Trudy has a,"I'm not racist.... but...." moment as she explains to Pete that she has no problem with Negroes but she's still worried about the car. Because the front and back half of that sentence don't contradict themselves at all! Pete reminds her that coming to the party was HER idea, and he'd be happy to return home. She insists though, after all these are the people who work for him, they should make an effort. Grimacing, Pete suggests she not go too hard on that angle since some of the people there don't consider Pete their boss (because, you know, he's not). They enter the apartment, stuffed full of people, where they are both relieved to spot familiar faces: Harry Crane, and for the first time in the flesh his wife Jennifer. They join them, Harry beaming, Jennifer telling Trudy with some satisfaction that SHE left her coat in the car after they ended up in the wrong part of New Jersey and called Paul and he warned them to do so.. but she brought her purse with her, a politer version of Trudy's own "I'm worried about the car" racism. Pete notes he smells alcohol but can't see where it is, which creates an uncomfortable moment when Jennifer snaps that the smell is coming from Harry himself. Harry snaps back with too forced a smile that it's a party, and Pete takes the opportunity to insist that Trudy come looking for a drink with him rather than stick around for a potential fight. Jennifer may have taken Harry back after his infidelity, and they may be expecting, but it seems all is far from rosy in the Crane household. Elsewhere at the party, Peggy is being chatted up by a handsome young man in glasses who is holding his coat over one shoulder with just a little too much practiced casualness. He's making the usual small talk and Peggy is enjoying it, but also pleased to correct him: she doesn't work FOR these "stuffed shirts", she works WITH them. They're joined by Trudy and Pete, and though to memory this is the first onscreen encounter between Trudy and Peggy (who, of course, has slept with Pete), they greet each other with warm familiarity. She explains that she and the man, Eugene, only just met, but he's a college buddy of Paul's. They went to Princeton together, and they all take great pleasure in learning that Paul used to dress in women's clothing for theater, which he claimed (correctly) was how it was done in Shakespeare's day.   Paul joins them, this is his apartment and his party, and like Eugene he's also gone to great pains to achieve a look with his wardrobe. His is casually "I don't care" sophisticated, a dedicated attempt to dress up nice while pretending to be in on the joke: a large snifter of port in one hand, a scarf tied around a bare neck, pipe omnipresent as ever. He waxes lyrical about Montclair, declaring it superior to Greenwich Village in every way. He encourages them all to enjoy the party and continues on his way, and Pete and Trudy leave Peggy and Eugene alone. He credits Peggy for being "a button" and she notes that he's clearly drunk... but she also clearly doesn't mind the attention either. A woman named Donna seems less interested in the attention she's getting, as Ken Cosgrove is looming over her openly cracking to Salvatore about how much he wants to get her "on my desk". Donna half laughs but mumbles that she's drunk enough that she can't feel her cheeks anymore, and her mother always told her that was when it was time to stop. Ken has other ideas, reaching behind her with his hand and asking if she feels that, which gives her a giggle. Salvatore's date, Kitty, can't believe the balls on Cosgrove, but gets a giggle herself when Salvatore pretends like he isn't going to leave when Ken asks for some privacy. Happily Sal escorts her away, leaving Ken to take advantage of the drunk girl. Joan has come alone though, explaining to Paul that her doctor boyfriend is on-call which means he has to be physically present at the hospital and not just available by phone. Paul is lightly mocking of the man in her life, pretending like he hasn't met him before and even mildly belittling his status as a doctor (a copywriter mocking a doctor!). Joan lets that slide, asking why he gets such a nice glass, and Paul enjoys showing off again by explaining that he has a bottle of Rhone Gallagher. Frustrated because she knows that he knows that she has no idea what that is, she snaps at him an acknowledgement of her lack of knowledge and he takes great pleasure in explaining it to her. She gets her own back quickly though, by pointing out he may have one of only 180 bottles from an 1871 shipwreck...but he doesn't have a sofa for guests to sit on. Paul ignores that, distracted by the arrival of his "baby", Sheila White. An attractive young black woman, Paul takes great pleasure in introducing her while simultaneously downplaying Joan's position (Senior Secretary rather than Office Manager) and likening Sheila's role as an Assistant Manager at the Food Fair in South Orange to Joan's role, but adding in that Sheila is saving money for her education. He's pulled away momentarily when a voice calls out that an upstairs neighbor - Mr. Hoffenberg - has come to the door complaining about the smell of marijuana. This leaves Joan and Sheila alone, and things VERY quickly get uncomfortable. With that same smiling nastiness she exhibits at the office, Joan - without ever once mentioning race - reminds Sheila multiple times that she's a black woman dating a white man - pretending surprise as Paul being "open minded", assuring her she'll one day get to be a customer at the food fair (Sheila points out she already has been) etc. She also goes out of her way to point out that her and Paul were also once an item. Her patronizing tone, her smiling condescension, all leave Sheila feeling pretty miserable at her own boyfriend's party. Having dealt with Hoffenberg, Paul bumps into a drunk but very happy Ken (did he finish with Donna already, or did she escape?) who points to a woman and asks,"What is that?". Paul doesn't object to the objectification, simply naming her Marjorie from the newsstand, but that isn't what Ken meant. Behind the woman is a typewriter... an office typewriter, one that went missing and almost got a secretary fired. Paul is quick to remind Ken that the "dumb girl" did NOT get fired, and insists to Ken - an actual, published writer - that HE needs it, after all, he is a writer. It says a lot about Paul really, and plays off his line last season about having a great story about "getting on with Negroes". He's here in Montclair slumming it, enjoying the feeling of being a worldly, cultured, "I don't see color" Bohemian writer. But if his self-image hurts or possibly ruins the lives of some people... oh well, it's all in service to his "craft" despite the fact he hasn't published anything and the only things he writes are jingles and advertising copy.   As the party winds down, in the hall a couple of women wait smoking, chuckling to each other as they watch Peggy and Eugene making out. Eugene is trying to convince "Brooklyn" to come home with him, and smugly explains that he knows she wants to when she asks him WHY she should come. Enjoying the kissing, smiling and seemingly giving every indication that she's more than up for it... Peggy dashes his hopes by reminding him that she is in the persuasion business and she's less than impressed by his pitch. She collects her things and enjoys the others, sharing a wicked grin as they leave a stunned Eugene behind not quite able to grasp that his handsome face and confidence born of privilege didn't get him what he wanted. The next morning, an utterly glorious overhead shot shows Peggy dead to the world in her bed, still wearing her dress from the night before. The phone is ringing, which stirs her from her sleep but doesn't full waken her. Instead she rolls over, grabs a pillow and jams it over her head to try and drown out the noise and get some more blessed, blessed sleep. Don Draper and Roger Sterling arrive at the building at the same time and take the same lift, Roger complaining about the traffic blocking up 5th Avenue. Don - also with a mind of advertising angles - points out that this traffic will make the parade look bigger, and seems surprised when Roger claims not to know about any parade. Don reminds him that "Colonel Glenn" is getting a parade today, which makes Roger scoff. He likens Glenn's actions to "pulling out the driveway and going around the block three times", because apparently being the first American to sit on top of a gigantic cylinder full of explosions and being sent hurtling into the death-void of outer space doesn't cut it with Roger as heroic. He points out that nobody was even shooting at Glenn, ignoring the fact the astronaut was also a distinguished fighter pilot in World War 2 AND the Korean War. Don of course likes Glenn, having found a new, better public figure to liken himself to than Richard Nixon: Glenn is square-jawed, full of false modesty (of course Don would think it false) and an easy sell for the Government as an All-American to contrast with the Soviets who already beat America into space. Roger lightly mocks him, asking if he intends to go get an autograph. Don doesn't respond and Roger has already forgotten about it, but Don does cast him an odd look, which might be as straightforward as wondering just what the hell Roger's problem with Glenn could possibly be. They enter reception and find the desk deserted, nobody answering any of the ringing phones as everybody is gathered around Hildy's desk over by Pete Campbell's office. Roger, agitated, calls out to the gathering and is further agitated when they don't hear him. Shouting louder, he gets their attention, and curtly reminds them that this is a business and Glenn is going to be on Earth for the rest of his life so they're not missing anything. He doesn't seem to notice the clear depressed air among the group, and Harry has to explain: they're listening to the radio because American Airlines Flight 1 to Los Angeles has crashed in Jamaica Bay, and potentially 100 people have just died. Peggy arrives, having woken at last and not all that late. Carrying a vacuum cleaner (is she researching a new account?) she spots the gathered group but doesn't join them, taking the opportunity to get to her office unseen. Nobody notices her, and Don has them turn the radio off, his own thoughts turning to urgent business related to this tragedy: they have to pull all their Mohawk Airlines advertising IMMEDIATELY. Paul is confused, it wasn't a Mohawk plane that went down. Don, grumpy at having to explain something so obvious, points out they don't want people opening newspapers tomorrow morning and seeing an ad for Mohawk Airlines next to a picture of a plane crash, no matter which airline it was from. He calls out to the others to get back to work, because they now have 3 weeks to hit the ground running with an entirely NEW advertising strategy to take into account this tragedy. He leaves, and Paul just can't resist cracking a joke that they should avoid saying,"Hit the ground." Despite their obvious shock and grief, this gets a laugh (from the men at least), and Freddy Rumsen can't help but crack a joke about the speed of the flight. As Hildy - still upset and not finding these jokes funny - is prompted by Roger to answer her phone, Pete decides to get in on the fun too and cracks a bad golf joke about the water turning plaid. It's not particularly funny but the group are warmed up and enjoying the gallows humor, and Pete basks in the laughter before a smiling Roger echoes Don and instructs them all to get back to work. Joining Cooper in his office, Roger takes the crash as an opportunity to complain about jetliners being an improper use of jet planes (carrying French cuisine and international travelers instead of bombs!) while Cooper eats... cottage cheese and ketchup? That's goddamn disgusting. They're joined by Duck who declares urgently that they need to tell Don to pull all the Mohawk advertising. Cooper grunts that Don already knows that, but Duck has actual news to share beyond redundant advertising concerns. He spoke with Shel Keneally over at American Airlines, thanks to working with him before when he was with Y&R in London. Duck lacks the personal touch with either Roger or Cooper (his Nixon/Kennedy fence-sitting won him no favors with Cooper for sure) but what he does know is how to schmooze to get what he wants, and he does it now. Ignoring Roger's petty little barb asking if his inside man knows if the plane is still crashed, instead without speaking he tosses HIS pack of cigarettes onto the desk. Roger doesn't comment on it either, but he reaches directly for it and takes one: his wife doesn't want him smoking anymore, so now he bums cigarettes from others. Duck knows this, Duck has already made it a ritual between the two without bringing any attention to it, meaning Roger probably doesn't even realize why he feels gratitude towards Duck. More than that though, he knows money and opportunity talks. So what he says next grabs their wholehearted attention: Shel told Duck that American Airlines need "a fresh start". Roger notices that, that's for drat sure, asking Duck to confirm he said those actual, very specific and extremely impactful words. Duck more than confirms, he says that Shel told him those words more than once. Now Cooper is enthralled too, his disinterest in Duck replaced by enthusiasm for an opportunity none of them expected this morning.   In Pete Campbell's office, he's on the phone and looking shocked. He manages to get out a couple of,"Yes" replies before telling the person on the other end he can't talk right now. Hanging up, he pours himself a drink and then walks in a seeming daze out of the office and stops by Hildy's desk. He looks around the floor, full of working people who so recently were gathered right where he now stands listening in horrified fascination to the radio. Downing his drink in one quick gulp, he puts the empty glass on Hildy's desk and wanders away, catching her attention too late as she asks after him. Not hearing her (or anything, really) he makes his shocked way past a confused Lois, her calling after him unheeded. It is only when he is in Don's office and the man himself casts an irritated look his way that he seems to remember the rest of the world exists, and of all things he apologetically asks if he is bothering Don. Don just wants to know what he wants, not bothered so much as wanting to deal with whatever it is so he can get back to this Mohawk problem. That is until Pete speaks, clearly in shock, to explain that the plane crash they were just listening to the radio about - the very one that Pete cut a bad taste joke about - had his father on it. That was his brother on the phone, calling to tell him their father was one of those killed on Flight 1. Don is completely taken aback for a moment, then offers the only thing he can really think of: that he's sorry to hear that. But Pete barely seems to hear him, instead admitting that he doesn't know what to do before mumbling about they only just saw each other recently at the barber. Don, mindful of privacy at this moment, quickly gets up and closes the door Pete left open, then moves to the drinks cabinet and pours them both a drink. Pete though is caught up in his own head, a lost little boy who finds himself asking questions he can't answer himself and that Don isn't equipped to answer either. What does one do in this situation? Are there arrangements to be made? Why hasn't he cried yet? How old was his father? Why does everything feel exactly the same? They're questions with no easy answer, and they make Don feel incredibly uncomfortable because he and Pete do not have the kind of close relationship to allow him to offer much more than general niceties. The fact that Pete went to Don speaks volumes though. In the moment where the rug was pulled out from under him and Pete lost his father, the man he went straight to see was the closest thing to an authority figure/father in his life: Don Draper. That itself is desperately sad, this is a man that Pete tried to blackmail. Is it the fact that Don refused to allow that to happen and risked his own self-destruction rather than capitulation that makes Pete look to him as a guide-stone now in this moment? So when Don tells him that he should be with his family now because "that's what people do", Pete isn't interested in what people would do, but what Don would do. When Don tells him he would be with family, Pete seems surprised, but not in a cruel way. After all, he knows that Don apparently disappeared from the Whitman Family's life. The really sad thing, of course, is that when Don initially tells him to go be with his family, Pete's genuine response is a baffled,"Why?" So he leaves, somewhat baffled by Don's reminder that life and work are two separate things. As he goes, he passes Paul and Freddy still cracking bad jokes about the crash - I wonder if he feels offended by these now, or if he actually misses the fun camaraderie of having the freedom to make those same jokes himself. In any case, he leaves, while Don stands in the doorway and considers the cruel whims of fate... and then gets more unpleasant news when he's informed by Lois that Cooper wants to see him.   Don arrives and immediately spots that Roger AND Duck are also present, and for just a second rolls his eyes before putting his professional mask back on. He assures Cooper (he looks straight to the senior man) that he has spoken with Hank Lamont at Mohawk. Roger asks how they're doing, not surprised when Don credits Lamont's ability to make money no matter what, noting that Lamont always cleaned him out when they played cards together during World War 2. The subject turns from Don's phone-call to Duck's though. Duck explains he called his contact in American Airlines, and at first Don is interested purely from a human perspective: are they doing okay over there? He's surprised anybody took any call at all. But when Duck starts talking about them wanting a new image, Don becomes confused and a little surprised when he realizes they're talking about trying to get American Airlines as a client. For one thing, does Sterling Cooper want to be associated with the airline that just saw 100 passengers die? For the other, they already have an airline as a client. Finally, it's barely been 4 hours, isn't this going to look bad jumping straight at trying to land a new account? Roger points out that what while they have Mohawk, what they want is American. Duck agrees, pointing out that waiting a few extra days or a week isn't making this any more of an opportunity than what it already is. Cooper at least enjoys Don's joke that the airline they have is the one NOT making front page news with scores of bodies floating the in the bay, but Duck isn't willing to let this keep going and he gets down to brass tacks. Mohawk Airlines is worth a million dollars a year to Sterling Cooper... American Airlines could be worth 7 million. The math is simple. Don doesn't see it that way, getting sharp right back at Duck: he's talking about money they don't have, he hasn't actually signed American. Duck complains that they have a serious foothold into getting this bigger client if they can just drop their conflict of interest. He takes it too far, insulting Don by lightly mocking his desire to make a big airline like American fall in love with his work for Mohawk. Don bristles at this and looks actually set to take a lunge at Duck before Roger reins him in. But Don isn't just the Creative Director anymore, he's a partner too, and while he's junior to Roger and Cooper both, he's also got enough clout now to not automatically have to do as he's told. So he declares with authority that Mohawk is a good client that treats them well, loves the work they do for them, and perhaps most importantly pays their bills on time. They are NOT going to throw that away just for the chance that maybe they might possibly get a sniff at the suggestion of American Airlines becoming a client. Having laid down his gauntlet, he asks if there is anything else, and when he gets no response he leaves. Duck is aghast, but Roger simply finishes his drink and announces with certainty to both Duck and Cooper that Don will be fine. Here is where Roger earns his keep, because even though he rejected last episode the idea that HE probably planted in Duck's mind in the first place, now he really is the intermediary between Accounts and Creative. It is his job to get Don where they need him to be. Pete meanwhile has followed Don's advice and is with family, where seeing his mother Dorothy in the same stunned reaction he had has him on slightly firmer ground. She sits next to Pete's sister-in-law Judy, Pete sitting across from her and Trudy standing by the fireplace while elsewhere Pete's brother Bud is on the phone making arrangements as necessary. Dorothy herself is verbally running through what actions she should take, trying to make sense of things, echoing her son from earlier in the day. Judy assures Dorothy that Bud will be able to manage things so she shouldn't worry, and when Dorothy declares they can't hold a funeral without the remains, she has to admit that Pete is right when he says it will make no difference if they have remains or not. It's blunt but it is accurate: Andrew Campbell is dead. Suddenly Dorothy seems to notice Trudy, glaring at her and demanding to know,"What is that?" Trudy is confused, looking behind her where a pink elephant sits on the mantle. "What is that?" Dorothy continues to demand, fixated on the ornament as her mind seeks to find something to focus on rather than the detached, swirling mess of thoughts running through her head. When Trudy takes it off the mantle, almost as if to offer it to her, Dorothy seems to realize it's insignificance and simply mutters at her to take it for herself, pretending like she decided she wanted her to have it. Judy tries to get things back on safer ground, talking up how wonderful and respected Andrew was, and Trudy offers that this was a nice thing to say. Judy perks right up at this, smiling winningly and declaring that she likes to "offer a nice bouquet of thoughts". Trudy isn't quite sure how to take this, it seems like there may be at least a little bit of friction between the two daughters-in-law, and she clutches the meaningless pink elephant close as she takes in Judy's closer physical proximity to Dorothy. It might be unfair, but in a moment like this it's easy to suspect members of the family moving in on the surviving elder in hopes of a favorable response come will reading time. That or maybe she's just put off by Judy's pleasantly but ultimately meaningless and empty platitudes. Pete pours himself a drink and is joined by Bud - taller, older, fatter - who promises his mother he took care of everything before quietly giving the real news to Pete, and it's not good: their father was broke. To his credit, Pete's immediate response isn't to freak out about his inheritance, but to ask if there's at least enough to cover the cost of his funeral. Bud rolls his eyes, openly stating that he knows Pete must have considered getting money in the will. Pete didn't though, despite his statement last season to Trudy about how his parents money would eventually be his, he seems to have reached a point where he stopped being concerned about it. He says as much to Bud, they were never going to get any of Andrew's money, but Bud corrects him on that, hissing,"You weren't." He fully expected a large windfall when his father died, and it's really saying something when Pete Campbell appears to be the more human thoughtful of the two brothers. But while he's not overly concerned about the lack of money from his father, now that's he's gone the concern has to be how his mother will be doing... is HER trust secure at least? That's more bad news, Bud explains that while none of that money was considered Andrew's... he was the President and was able to borrow against its value. That does surprise Pete, and Bud admits that he asked the family lawyer if there was a woman somewhere. Apparently not, Andrew was faithful in that regard at least... but he spent all of his wife's money on "oysters, travel, and club memberships." Yes, it seems that for all he looked down on Pete's business of entertaining clients, he had no problem with using somebody else's money to pay for a similarly luxurious lifestyle. This does raise an interesting consideration: was Andrew's refusal to help Pete and Trudy with a loan for the apartment born out of disappointment with Pete's chosen profession... or because Andrew simply didn't have the money to give at all? Did he have any plan for paying back these loans or was he just going to live on the fumes of credit and the family name till the creditors came calling, saved from this ignominy only by an unexpected and sudden death? In the end, neither has the gumption to tell Dorothy her current sad state of affairs. Instead Bud simply takes a leaf out of his father's book and insists that everything is taken care of. With a smile, Dorothy declares that Andrew used to call the two brothers "salt and pepper". Trudy lets out a happy,"Awwwww", finding the nickname cute... though I suspect it was not said with affection by Andrew Campbell.   Don arrives home where he is greeted with a hug by Bobby, and then takes in a sight that makes his heart sink: Betty is dressed up and preparing slices of cheesecake, and informs him she has made him a ham sandwich for dinner. Guessing this can't be good news, he asks what is going on and winces when she informs him - seemingly for the first time, though perhaps she told him a dozen times and he just didn't take it in - that Carlton and Francine are coming over to play cards. He starts to complain that they just did that recently, but what starts as a sigh ends with an accusation that is far angrier sounded than he intended it to be. Rather than freak out though, she simply blinks then very deliberately moves forward and gives him a welcome home kiss before reminding him they haven't done this since before Christmas, and they've promised multiple times to go to the Hanson's and then not followed through. Knowing he can't stop it happening now, he trudges past saying he's going to take a nap. She calls after him that he'll need to remove the bedspread first, she put the nice one on (in case Francine breaks free from the card-table and sprints up the stairs avoiding Betty's tackle to see how nicely made-up the master bedroom is?) and it'll leave marks on his face that will let everybody know he was sleeping instead of eagerly anticipating a game of cards with his neighbors. After he's gone, Betty tells Sally - who also wants to stay up and play - that she can stay up to say hello to their visitors but then it will be straight to bed. Don makes good use of Sally still being up when the Hanson's arrive, having his tiny daughter fix him an alcoholic drink and bring it to him, actually having the gall to critique her technique! Carlton - who has put on weight - is amused, assuring Sally her daddy will be nicer once he's drunk the first one, and congratulating her on her job making his. Don sends Sally off to get Betty and Francine's "orders", and tells Bobby - sitting on the couch eating candy from a dish - he's had enough sweets and sending him off to watch television. Carlton comments on how fast the kids are growing, but the talk turns disturbingly quickly to a sexual nature, catching Don off-guard. Carlton mentions that the Caruthers girl is in high school, already old enough to babysit he and Francine's children.... and then comments about how excited he gets by seeing her in her schoolgirl uniform. Don smiles and laughs, but also makes it clear that this is a thoroughly inappropriate line of conversation, diplomatically saying that he feels he won't like how the story ends. Carlton of course has the confidence of somebody who assumes they're all in the same club, that of course Don (and all men!) must think exactly the way he does. He even goes so far as to declare that Francine probably hired the Caruthers girl just to torture him, before complaining about all the "sacrifices" he has made. Apparently to Carlton, getting rid of the apartment he had in the city he used to cheat on Francine with is something he should be applauded for? Incredibly creepily, he likens the Carruthers girl to a "pie cooling on the windowsill", complaining that now he's expected to not even smell it. He's talking about a high school girl here, folks. Luckily for Don, Sally (probably closer in age to the Carruthers girl than Carlton is) returns to announce that the wives want Tom Collins, so Don escapes the conversation to tell her how to mix those drinks. Peggy arrives at a home, still carrying the vacuum cleaner. Two women are sitting in the kitchen listening to the radio, and she takes a moment upon seeing them to brace herself before putting on a big false smile and stepping inside. It is her mother Katherine and her sister Anita, and she explains she is late because of work. She compliments her mother on her new hairstyle and declines an offer of food, explaining she already ate... so her mother brings her a plate of food anyway. They talk briefly about the crash before talk turns to Church and Peggy gets even more uncomfortable. People at the Church have been asking about her, a fact that seems to simultaneously make her mother proud and embarrassed: they're all impressed by Peggy's success in advertising, but she's never at the Church anymore. This all of course seems so small and insignificant to Peggy. She grew up in this environment and always wanted to escape, and seeing her mother and sister sitting around happily gossiping about the other Churchgoers (seemingly judging them, in direct contradiction of Biblical teachings) is just a reminder to her of how little it all matters to her. She is, of course, silently judging Katherine and Anita just the same as they are judging the others, but she does at least make an effort to explain her thinking to her mother. Gently she takes her hand, smiles, and explains to her that being "asked after in Church" doesn't mean the same thing to her as it does to her mother. Katherine of course doesn't like that kind of talk, and with a hard look goes the nuclear option, declaring that Peggy's father would "like it" if she lit a candle for him. She leaves the table, Peggy cringing slightly when she strokes her cheek with one finger and tells her she prays for her. Her mother has an image in her head of what she thinks Peggy should be, and it's one that Peggy rejects utterly... but she's trapped in familial duty. Like Pete and the empty casket, Peggy probably thinks it makes no difference if she lights a candle or not since her father is still going to be dead, but she can't say that. She doesn't want to just be the "pretty face" that her mother obviously puts so much stock in, wanting her to marry and have kids while Peggy herself is interested in developing a career and rising up in her profession. It is the trap of the adult, to have your own values and interests but still find yourself beholden to those of your parents just because you don't want to upset them, to find yourself regressing to a power dynamic that no longer makes any sense to you but that you feel guilty for resenting. Left alone with her sister, Peggy can talk a little more freely. She defends her non-attendance at Church with a simple,"I don't want to" when asked why she doesn't go. Anita though has a different take, what does it matter if she does or doesn't, can't she just go anyway to make their mother happy? After all, she's not going to be around forever (a fact Pete can attest to). She points out that Katherine has been lying about a church Peggy has been going to instead, making Peggy complain that nobody asked her to lie. She points out that she is a grown woman and can make her own decisions, and Anita hits her with a savage reply that fills in a small part of the blanks we have from between the seasons: the doctors and the State of New York disagreed. It seems that part of that 2 month absence from Sterling Cooper was an enforced stay under psychiatric observation, either due to her cryptic pregnancy or maybe given the time simply because she displayed the "unwell" behavior of not being interested in being a mother. In any case, it's an incredibly cruel card for Anita to play, and clearly hurts Betty deeply. Katherine returns asking if she brought the vacuum cleaner, it seems Peggy isn't doing research but had just borrowed her mother's vacuum cleaner. The three sit in silence, a far cry from the exciting life of both the work and social life that Peggy enjoys and values far more than these obligations that none of those present seem to actually get any benefit from.  
Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 02:55 on Nov 28, 2020 |
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Nov 28, 2020 01:52
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At the Draper Residence, they're playing Pinochle and Betty is winning. Bobby and Sally have crept down the stairs to listen in on the adult's conversation, but it is far from riveting. They're discussing a row of apartments going up on Cedar Lane, Carlton lamenting that he missed the opportunity to buy up that land cheap when he had a chance. The conversation turns to the jetliner crash, but then Betty spots Bobby creeping up to the candy out of the corner of her eye and snaps at him to go back to bed. In the background, Sally can be heard racing back to bed herself, but Bobby stays in place, hand literally in the candy dish, softly insisting that he heard something and got scared. When Bobby still doesn't move even after Don tells him to go back to bed, Betty is mortified, casting a look Don's way. He drops his cards, leaves the table and scoops up Bobby, not unkindly telling him it's time to go to sleep. He carries him upstairs, Betty remarking that at Bobby's age she would have been far more scared of her father than bed. Carlton has a different take, as a boy he always hated being sent to bed too, and though he would go when told... it would be with a stack of comic books and a flashlight. Betty is indifferent to that though, admitting that she doesn't care what they do in bed so long as they are IN bed... she just wants that precious few hours of quiet in the evening. Don returns and with some amusement explains that Bobby thought he saw a ghost. Betty is not amused, calling Bobby a little liar. She rants about a drawing he did at school that earned him high praise, until Betty realized he'd traced it from a book they had at home. Don is not bothered by this, pointing out that his entire art department is run on tracing paper. For Betty though it is the principle, he accepted praise for something he didn't do honestly, and that makes him a liar. Francine points out that her books on raising children say this is the age when children start lying as a natural part of their development. Betty, who has a real bee in her bonnet over all this, declares that she doesn't need a book to know what little boys do. Don has been amused by Betty's indignation, but at this point as he lights up, he also seems to feel a little troubled? Like maybe he feels she's making a statement about HIM as well? Peggy helps Anita finish washing up, then asks her mother if she wants her to take anything back to the library or pick anything up. Her mother is fine, and Peggy gives her and Anita kisses on the cheek before preparing to leave... and Anita stops her to ask if she is going to say good night? Peggy's face drops, she braces herself, and then quietly she makes her way to a room unseen till this point. Taking a moment to gather herself, she opens the door and looks inside... at a small baby lying in a crib staring up at her. Two other older children are lying in beds, one awake and quietly whispering a hello to his Aunt Peggy. She doesn't answer, just looks at the baby again before closing the door and walking away blank-faced. I can only assume that this is Peggy's baby, that her rejection was denied by the hospital who called her family, and Anita seemingly agreed to take the child on as her own. This more than anything explains or at least re-contextualizes Peggy's reluctance to visit even beyond feeling incompatible with her mother's lifestyle and values. The child - even if it isn't actually Peggy's - is a reminder of what she doesn't want, of a burden of her old life and even her gender pulling down on her aspirations for a life and accomplishments of her own. She isn't interested in being a mother, of becoming just like her sister (where is HER husband?) and spending evenings sitting in the kitchen in Brooklyn. She wants to be in the exciting world of advertising, she wants to be successful and valued on her merits, she wants more from the world than the limited (to her) worldview of her mother and sister.... but that baby remains an undeniable fact of her life all the same. https://i.imgur.com/jywIJWV.mp4 The Hansons have left and Don is helping Betty clean up (well, he's snacking on leftover food while SHE cleans up). She's talking about Helen Bishop getting "chummy" with a school board administrator and comments that he's a fat man, which causes Don to casually mention that Carlton has put on weight. Betty approves of that though despite just using fat negatively in regards to Helen's associate, she thinks it is a sign that Carlton is happy. Foolishly, Don mutters that he isn't so sure about that, immediately regretting it when Betty demands to know what that means. Don quickly assures her he meant nothing, but this has set Betty off, complaining that Carlton SHOULD be happy and showering Francine with love considering all he put her through. Don, trying to be reasonable and just making things worse, proclaims that he doesn't want to argue so he'll just agree with whatever she says and say whatever she wants him to say. Glowering, she takes the trash outside and takes a moment to light up and smoke outside, leaving Don staring through the window at her, too clueless to figure out why HE is the bad guy in all this. One gets a sense that Don has not been indulging in infidelity for quite some time, which isn't quite as laudable as it seems. For one thing, you shouldn't be praised for doing what you should have been doing all along, but also Don's infidelities were never as casual as some of those we've seen from the other male characters. It's hard to say which is worse, but Don didn't cheat on his wife with random women, but with women who he found interesting/intriguing/fascinating. That he hasn't found another Midge or Rachel strikes me more a matter of luck rather than discipline on his part. But there is a part of him that is more like Carlton than he might like to admit: after all, Carlton complained about not being allowed to smell the pie, and now Don is standing here feeling upset that Betty - who he may know from Dr. Wayne was aware of his cheating - is upset at him when he hasn't technically done anything wrong... just yet. He heads upstairs and looks in on the children. Bobby is in bed with Sally, curled up with her for comfort. Don frowns to see it, because it makes him realize that Bobby wasn't a fibber just making excuses to stay up and get more candy. He really did think he heard something and really was scared, and instead of being able to go to his parents for comfort, he had to look to his sister instead. The next morning, Pete is sitting at the edge of the bed and chuckles. Trudy walks by and asks what is so funny, and he admits he's gotten to thinking about the ridiculousness of the last conversation he would ever have with his father was. They got into a weirdly heated argument over whether a particular breed of dog was a French Bulldog or a Boston Terrier. This was emblematic of their entire relationship, his mother called it "Fighting about facts", where they would both get incredibly heated over subjective opinions regarding some objective fact that could be demonstrably proven to be one thing or the other. Trudy offers him sympathy, thinking he might be upset their last conversation was an argument, assuring him neither of them knew it would be the last which implies they would have been nicer to each other if they had known (unlikely). Out of curiosity she asks for more details about the dog breed they were arguing about, then informs him that his father was actually right, they were French Bulldogs. Pete isn't upset at being corrected or proven wrong, he just takes this info in as yet another example of his father ultimately winning a fight. He admits that when he woke up this morning for a moment everything was perfectly normal and he was fine... and then he remembered all over again that his father - a colossus in his life despite their strained relationship - was dead. Trudy helpfully tells him to just think about the good times they had together, and he agrees... though it appears from his facial expression that it will be a real struggle for him to actually remember any there actually were. At Sterling Cooper, Joan is gossiping with another secretary when Paul approaches and - without acknowledging Joan at all - passes the secretary a letter and asks for three copies. He even ignores a witty little barb Joan makes about one of the recipients, simply thanking the secretary and starting to walk away. Joan follows him, calling after him (in the office it is Mr. Kinsey and not Paul, she practices what she preached to Lois) to ask if there is some problem. Frustrated, he points out that he has been actively avoiding her for three days now and thought she might have noticed. Joan has no idea what he could be upset about, laughing as she assumes that he's worried she'd going to tattle on him over the stolen typewriter. He's disgusted with her, demanding to know what she said to Sheila, becoming angrier when she pretends not to know who that was and then goading him by asking him to describe her, nastily declaring she knows what would be the top of the list. Somehow this actually ends up relieving Paul, who is still revolted by her blatant racism but admits that if it is as simple as that it is better than thinking she was this cruel purely out of jealously. Joan scoffs at the idea that she would be jealous of anything Paul did, and with the same precision nastiness she wields so effectively on the secretaries, she targets Paul himself. He stands and listens in horror as she, smile never shifting, mocks his entire persona and lifestyle. He lives in a "poor-little-rich-boy" apartment, he grew a beard and carries a pipe, he dates a black supermarket checkout operator, all as part of a carefully curated image so he can present himself as an interesting person. Then to make matters worse, she takes a puff of her cigarette, looks up at him and tells him to go ahead and tell her what part of all that she got wrong. Revolted, angry but also impotent (as well as fearing she may have nailed him far too accurately) he simply turns and walks away. Joan watches him go, not entirely satisfied, but also not regretting devastating him as revenge for him... quietly going about his business and not paying any attention to her until she forced a confrontation. Because for all her talk of professionalism, the one thing Joan seems to hate above all else is being overlooked.   Pete is, as is not uncommon, sitting alone in his dark office. He's idly picking at the edge of his desk when Duck pops through the door, surprising him. Getting up and moving around to the other side of his desk, he tries to hide his surprise and guilt at being caught out doing nothing by jokingly complaining about "the girl" not telling him she had left her desk. Duck ignores that though, and though he doesn't directly reference Pete's odd behavior he alludes to it diplomatically by offering that when his own father died he went on one hell of a bender. He explains he read about Andrew's death in the times rather than it being the subject of office gossip... but he wishes that Pete had felt he could come to him to tell him this (does he know or suspect that Pete went to Don?). Duck takes a seat, and he begins to talk, and what he says is like a salve for Pete's wounded soul. In that calm, authoritative voice of his, Duck - who Pete once mocked for such a silly nickname - explains that they're practically a family at Sterling Cooper, that his father was surely proud of him and just had difficulty saying it (Pete can agree on the latter), and Duck himself can see why Andrew would have been: after all, Duck has noticed that Pete is hard-working and good at his job. For Pete, who never got approval from his father, this is exactly what he has desperately wanted to hear. But he should also be savvy enough to realize when he is being buttered up, and the hook reveals itself when Duck hesitates, admits he doesn't want to be insensitive... and then asks Pete to attend a meeting at the University Club this evening with himself and Shel Keneally to discuss potentially taking on American Airlines as a client. Pete is stunned, it is couched in friendly and even enticing terms: it's a giant client and he's offering Pete a leading role. But he also knows on some level, even if it is only intellectual, that this would be wrong. He tells Duck that he does find this uncomfortable and that it would be wrong for him to be part of this... and even offers the thing that has really been bothering him, the fact that he hasn't even cried yet. Duck immediately backpedals, apologizing for the inappropriate suggestion and offering that he is sorry for Pete's loss before leaving the office.... and Pete left alone in the dark again. In the break-room, Paul Kinsey pulls Joan Holloway's purse from her locker, active revenge on his mind now that passivity only lead to his humiliation. An irritated Don Draper buzzes Lois and asks her curtly to bring in the papers he already asked for. She immediately brings them in, but is also immediately asked to leave by Roger Sterling who has slipped in behind her unnoticed. She leaves, Roger closes the door, and gives Don instructions. He doesn't command but he also isn't asking, he presents this as a done deal: he's to meet with Henry Lamont in a private-but-public place where nobody can make a scene. Already knowing the answer, Don asks why, and Roger informs him that they've rejected his refusal to drop Mohawk Airlines: they're going after American Airlines and that means Mohawk has to go. Don tries to argue the case anyway: Duck has a MEETING and nothing more, and it makes them look desperate to drop one of their clients purely to get a chance to make a pitch for an account with another. Roger disagrees, dropping a well-paying client like Mohawk demonstrates that to American that they're serious, and even if they fail to get the account they're going to be written up in the New York Times as one of the "big boys" who went after the account. Don is disgusted though, they have a good working relationship with Mohawk they're going to abandon at the first chance? What kind of company does Roger want Sterling Cooper to be? Roger considers that, takes a puff of his cigarette, and declares happily they'll be the type of company where EVERYONE has a summer house. He smiles as he says it, but he's not joking. For Roger and for Cooper, the ultimate trump card remains money. They have no hesitation whatsoever about ditching a client for a chance at a bigger one, seeing only benefits while Don of all people is left worrying about the integrity of the firm. When Duck mimed weighing up 1 million dollars against 7 million dollars, he was effectively brushing away all the bullshit to remind everybody that at the end of the day, their creativity and integrity plays second fiddle to a bigger potential pile of cash. Don, knowing the battle is lost, makes one last final play, asking why he is considered an idiot for wanting to remain loyal. Roger mocks that, saying you see a chance for big money you go for it... and that this is the end of the discussion. He told Cooper and Duck that Don "would be fine", but his handling of the situation has left their Creative Director feeling anything but.   Pete is in his office wrestling with the angels. Duck's offer is competing in his head with his own shock and grief, which in turn is competing with his self-loathing and guilt for not feeling the way he knows he is SUPPOSED to feel about the death of a parent. Finally he can't take it anymore and leaves the office, looking for guidance. Roger is passing and for a moment he considers the man he claimed to have modeled himself on, then rejects it. He asks Hildy to get Trudy on the phone, perhaps thinking his supposed soulmate can help him, but then tells Hildy to forget it as he spots Peggy across the office floor, and perhaps considers what he once told her about his troubled lack of connection to his wife. So once again, surprisingly, Pete moves for the one person in the office who he has bizarrely ended up with any respect for: Don Draper. It's not a huge surprise, Pete is after all a little boy in search of a father, his own dead father emotionally absent even when he was alive. Like Bobby, Pete is scared and is looking for comfort, but like Bobby he is to be disappointed. Pete walks straight past a startled Lois (Peggy at least was able to give Pete pause back when she worked Don's desk) and right into the office... where Don Draper is dealing with his own issues and angrily snaps at Pete demanding to know what he wants. Now that he's there, Pete isn't sure what to say. Don, angrily looking through his notes while focused on the humiliation of his upcoming meeting with Lamont, glares up at him and grunts that is isn't a good time. Pete, completely adrift now, staggers out of the office and stands, lost once more. Lois quietly asks if he'd like to leave a note but Pete declines, wandering away with no guide, no lodestone to give him direction. The day is ending and Joan has collected her things - including purse - from her locker as she prepares to leave for the day. As she goes though, she hears giggling coming from Peggy's office and decides to pop her head in and see what is going on. Two of the secretaries are standing by the bulletin board (Peggy and Victor's office still contains the photocopier and has become a defacto secondary common room) laughing, and when they see Joan they offer her a quick goodnight and slip away. Sensing from their sudden exit that something isn't quite right, Joan looks over at the bulletin board... and there it is. A photocopy of her driver's license, with her date of birth circled in red... Joan is 31-years-old. Now in the year 2020, a woman being 31-years-old is... well it's nothing. But consider the time, hell consider Betty Draper. She's barely 30 if that and already married and with two kids, and often talks about the horror of still having to date at this ripe old age. Peggy is only 22, most of the women in the office are still in their 20s. To be a single woman in your 30s in this environment is the kiss of death, a sign that you're (bizarrely) to be considered an old maid, or at the very least the subject of mockery. This is Paul's revenge, she mocked his self-image and so he has punctured hers in turn, though to be fair he's used a monstrously hypocritical and unbalanced focus on female age (the men in their 40s and 50s get to still be considered virile and in their prime) to do so. Joan tears it down and trashes it, then spots Peggy stifling a smile and demands to know if she saw who put this up (remember, it is entirely Joan's fault the photocopier ended up in Joan's office). Peggy assures her she didn't, then makes things worse by promising Joan she never would have guessed she was in her 30s. Joan, struggling to hold back her rage, complains that people should not bring their personal problems into the office despite being the one who ripped Paul apart after SHE forced him to acknowledge her when he was just trying to go about his work while ignoring her. Peggy though agrees, she can more than commiserate with work being an island from the rest of her life... hell, the best part of her day is getting to "just" be a Junior Copywriter at Sterling Cooper. Not a daughter, not a churchgoer, certainly not a mother. Just.... her.   Don meets with Henry Lamont at an Asian Restaurant, and Henry is no fool, he knows a break-up date when he sees one, and tells him this place reminds him of Pearl Harbor in more ways than one. Just because he knows doesn't mean he's letting Don off easy though, telling him he's going to have to say the words. Biting back his own disgust, Don tows the company line: Sterling Cooper has decided to end its relationship with Mohawk Airlines. Lamont notices the use of the words Sterling Cooper, and Don admits that this break-up was not his idea. Lamont isn't letting that slide either though, he was sold on Sterling Cooper because he was told that Sterling Cooper IS Don Draper, who doesn't get to now act like just another cog in the wheel (especially now he's a partner). He reminds Don of his pitch, that Sterling Cooper wasn't going for a big airline because they were going to make Mohawk a big airline... and he is almost embarrassed to admit that Don fooled him. He leaves with that parting line, Don feeling more miserable than ever, having had to be the public face of the dirty work that Roger, Cooper and Duck wanted doing. To be fair, as a partner this is part of his job, but to be equally fair... he's the Creative Director, why wasn't this the job of the Head of Account Services? Couldn't Duck have done this BEFORE his meeting with Shel? One possibility is that they felt Lamont would take it better coming from Don, but I'd suggest that this may have been Roger at the least and possibly Cooper putting Don in his place. He refused to drop Mohawk, and now they've reminded him that partner or not, THEY are still the ones who decide who Sterling Cooper's clients are going to be. Duck is having a far happier meeting with Shel at the University Club. American Airlines first move was to fire their Head of Operations but that hasn't appeased the shareholders at all, so they need to go through a careful process of changing their Advertising Agency, they don't want to spook those shareholders. Duck is friendly, diplomatic and non-aggressive... but he's also at pains to let Shel know that they're VERY interested in getting the account, and are willing to jump right into a pool that American is only just dipping their toe in. His argument is bolstered by the sudden arrival of Pete Campbell. Hiding his surprise, Duck greets him and introduces him to Shel, declaring that he doesn't think Pete is their best... he KNOWS he is. Pete takes a seat and Duck catches him up, and Shel quickly reminds him again that this is still only talk at this stage. That is Pete's cue, and he takes a moment before setting aside all doubts and going straight into sell-mode. He pushes Sterling Cooper's commitment and enthusiasm, and then delivers the coup de grace that Duck was hoping for: he PERSONALLY knows exactly what American Airlines is going through, after all... his father was one of those who died in the crash. Shel is stunned, offering his sympathies. Pete nods, then - still in sell mode, doing new surrogate father Duck proud - offers back that he hopes "something good will come of it". Shel takes that onboard, and Duck sees the time is right to move on from direct business talk, suggesting they get something to eat now. Shel is happy to move on to the more pleasant part of the evening, while Pete sits back in his chair, blank faced. Does the moral weight of selling out his own father's death as a way to make money for his firm weigh heavily on him? Does the LACK of moral weight concern him? Or is he still trying to work out why he feels nothing even now days after the crash, and he still hasn't cried? Whatever the case, Pete has made a decision he can never take back, and for better or worse he will have to live with that for the rest of his life.  Don remains at the restaurant, nursing his drink, considering his own capitulation to the whims of Sterling Cooper. A waitress stops by the table, telling him that she's not his waitress but she'd be happy to offer him a menu. He's confused, so she points out he's been sitting alone for awhile, would he like something? Don considers, then declines. She offers to swing back and again he considers then declines, saying,"Not tonight." She leaves and he finishes his drink, drops money on the table, then makes his exit. I'm not entirely sure what to make of this scene. Is it as simple on the surface level as a waitress offering him service and him declining? Is she approaching him out of interest (he is, after all, a tall, handsome and very well-dressed man all by himself) that he recognizes and turns down? Hell, is she a prostitute sent out to pick up lonely single (as in unaccompanied, not unmarried) men? Whatever the case, Don realizes he has stayed too long and is quick to leave. He's never been one for a one-night stand and it really does seem like he's making a conscious effort to stay true to his wife... but tonight was a night when his defenses were down and he might have proved to be no better than Carlton upon spotting a "pie on the windowsill". Instead, he just goes home. Peggy, perhaps in reaction to Joan's snarling condemnation of those who try to pull you down making her see a not particularly pretty future for herself... or perhaps just because her mother kep haranguing her... has gone to Church with Katherine and Anita. The children are there too, including the baby, and when the time comes to take Communion, Peggy remains in her pew. This means that Anita has somebody to dump the baby on, and Peggy finds herself holding what is quite possibly her own son. The baby cries, wanting who he knows as his mother, and Peggy has no idea what to do. This doesn't come naturally to her, she feels no connection either to this Church or to this child. It is alien, the so-called community that surrounds her, the family that holds the Church in such high regard, the child she is supposed to feel a natural maternal instinct for... they're all strangers, strange, and also unwelcome. This is not who Peggy Olson is or who she wants to be, and being forced into these situations are not going to do anything to change that. Like Pete, she sits blank-faced, not sure how to feel or what to do, present only at the behest of others to help them get what THEY want.  And finally, the closing captions are lead by a memorial to Christopher Allport. This was the actor who played Andrew Campbell, and shockingly he died in an avalanche between seasons. Originally intended as a recurring character, this episode was written to write him out, and gave the show a chance to explore Pete Campbell further. You'd never know it was not part of the original plan, it's a very strong episode and Vincent Kartheiser does a great job selling the kind of detached shock and guilt that can come in the wake of the death of a family member you had mixed feeling about. It speaks strongly to the strength of the writing, the characters, and of course the actors that such a strong episode could come out of an unexpected event like this. Episode Index Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 01:55 on Nov 28, 2020 |
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Nov 28, 2020 01:52
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BrotherJayne posted:Need... more... Jerru... For some reason this one took me a hell of a long time to write. Episode was drat good, but I kind of hit a wall in what I was writing, and I perhaps overwrote to compensate. The episode is incredibly dense, there is SO much going on and I kept second-guessing how I was tying it all together, or hitting what I thought was a clear thematic beat only for a follow-up scene to throw it into a fresh new context. Next one will be quicker I hope.
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Nov 28, 2020 01:54
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I promise you, it's only going to get more difficult to pare down the write-ups. Everything builds on everything else exponentially and it rules. A few seasons from now I bet you'll be making a full length post on each scene. What kind of schedule, if any, are you aiming for with the write-ups? I cracked and ended up skipping way ahead lol The Klowner fucked around with this message at 02:22 on Nov 28, 2020 |
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Nov 28, 2020 02:20
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I'm hoping for a write-up every 2-3 days, so roughly a month per season. That's a best-case scenario though, there's a lot going on in real life and I can't always dedicate the time so sometimes there will be more days between, plus Christmas is coming up, so I'm hoping to at least wrap up season 2 before I head away to spend time with the family, then jump back into season 3 from January.
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Nov 28, 2020 02:36
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i think I find the betty/peggy mixups so funny because you're usually so careful and mistake-free but this just made me lol quote:Katherine of course doesn't like that kind of talk, and with a hard look goes the nuclear option, declaring that Betty's father would "like it" if she lit a candle for him. She leaves the table, Betty cringing slightly when she strokes her cheek with one finger and tells her she prays for her. Her mother has an image in her head of what she thinks Betty should be, and it's one that Betty rejects utterly... but she's trapped in familial duty. Like Pete and the empty casket, Peggy probably thinks it makes no difference if she lights a candle or not since her father is still going to be dead, but she can't say that. She doesn't want to just be the "pretty face" that her mother obviously puts so much stock in, wanting her to marry and have kids while Betty herself is interested in developing a career and rising up in her profession. It is the trap of the adult, to have your own values and interests but still find yourself beholden to those of your parents just because you don't want to upset them, to find yourself regressing to a power dynamic that no longer makes any sense to you but that you feel guilty for resenting. great writeup, as always. you did a great job nailing down that sense of parallel emotional disconnection that pete and peggy went through
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Nov 28, 2020 02:51
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Hahaha, thank you I appreciate that, I constantly make that mistake and usually correct myself, but that's a hefty length of literally talking about a different person 
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Nov 28, 2020 02:56
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Excellent write-up, as usual. This episode really does so much to humanize Pete, who even up until last episode just came across as a slimeball.
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Nov 28, 2020 04:45
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Jerusalem posted:Couldn't Duck have done this BEFORE his meeting with Shel? One possibility is that they felt Lamont would take it better coming from Don, but I'd suggest that this may have been Roger at the least and possibly Cooper putting Don in his place. He refused to drop Mohawk, and now they've reminded him that partner or not, THEY are still the ones who decide who Sterling Cooper's clients are going to be. Interesting theory. I always figured Roger was too lazy (and he didn't want to be the one to upset his old war buddy) and Cooper was too important, but I never really thought about Duck doing it. I guess when Cooper told Don that he wasn't adding his name to the masthead, he wasn't just speaking literally. Isn't it amazing that Christopher Allport was only in one scene of this show? One scene! The relationship between Pete and his father is so clear and defined from that one scene. I was very surprised on rewatch to find that there weren't several scenes over the course of season 1. quote:Francine points out that her books on raising children say this is the age when children start lying as a natural part of their development. Francine is likely referring to The Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care by Dr. Spock. A copy of it appears at Francine's place in the scene where Betty talks to Francine about the air conditioner salesman. This book was responsible for major changes in parenting. If you had read ONE book on parenting in the 1960s, it was this one, and its recommendations changed people's minds on how to be good parents. Spock encouraged parents to be more affectionate and to treat their children as individuals. His approach was warmer and softer than the cold and rigid manuals that were popular before. Francine has read it, and she doesn't think it's necessarily a big deal for a child to tell small lies. Betty, on the other hand, dismisses the entire concept of reading parenting books. Good catch on Bobby sleeping in Sally's bed. I missed that the first time around. He could certainly use some of that affection that Dr. Spock recommended. The Klowner posted:I promise you, it's only going to get more difficult to pare down the write-ups. Everything builds on everything else exponentially and it rules. 100% this. Very glad you liked this episode so much, Jerusalem. Some people find season 2 to be "slow". They're crazy. Tons of stuff is going on all the time. The fact that you're watching very carefully is really gonna help.
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Nov 28, 2020 05:02
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Growing up, if you didn't put "Mr." in front of Spock, it was definitely a coin-flip if people were going to think of Star Trek or the guy who wrote the book on childcare. When Francine mentioned "the book" my first thought was Dr. Spock, but I dumbly assumed it was written later than this and didn't look it up. However I also can't think of Dr. Spock without thinking of Raising Arizona and how Hi picks it up as a "instruction manual" for how to raise their stolen kid 
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Nov 28, 2020 05:24
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I've always loved the exploration of the Pete-Don-Duck daddy triangle in this episode, but I never realized the actor for Pete's dad had actually died. For people like me who didn't know any better, it certainly seemed like a plot twist that was planned from the start.Yoshi Wins posted:Some people find season 2 to be "slow". They're crazy. Tons of stuff is going on all the time. The fact that you're watching very carefully is really gonna help. Who the hell would say that?? In a relative sense, the whole drat show is slow!
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Nov 28, 2020 06:42
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Also, I wish Mark Moses would do some audiobooks or radio dramas or something. I could listen to that guy talk all day
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Nov 28, 2020 06:48
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I was very excited to read the take on this episode, which (appropriately) comes out of nowhere. Did not disappoint.The Klowner posted:I promise you, it's only going to get more difficult to pare down the write-ups. Everything builds on everything else exponentially and it rules. A few seasons from now I bet you'll be making a full length post on each scene. Absolutely; I think we're within spitting distance of Jerusalem needing three full posts for a single episode*. The show gets very good, and very dense, very quickly. *"For the little one."
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Nov 28, 2020 06:59
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Jerusalem posted:For some reason this one took me a hell of a long time to write. Episode was drat good, but I kind of hit a wall in what I was writing, and I perhaps overwrote to compensate. The episode is incredibly dense, there is SO much going on and I kept second-guessing how I was tying it all together, or hitting what I thought was a clear thematic beat only for a follow-up scene to throw it into a fresh new context. Next one will be quicker I hope. Oh no, the best and most prolific writer on the forums providing pages and pages of content that will give me hours of joy and insight, how will I cope.
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Nov 28, 2020 14:23
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Season 2 is the second best one of the series imo. 5 is a monolith surrounded by slightly smaller ones. But the idea of anyone frowning on season 2 is baffling to me, the last three episodes are a stretch almost unequalled until s5 I think
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Nov 28, 2020 17:49
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People's opinions on the ranking of the seasons are surprisingly varied. I think 4 is most often considered the best and 6 is most often considered the worst. But I've seen all kinds of orders that kind of baffled me.
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Nov 28, 2020 18:00
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I view the show as a complete whole. it doesn't make sense to rank the seasons imo. To me that's like ranking scenes in a movie. it's a credit to the consistency and strength of the writing in the show. That said, while I don't think there's a "best" episode, the episode that has stuck with me the most over the years is season 4 episode 7, "The Suitcase." An absolute masterclass in catharsis. In fact, all of the Jennifer Getzinger-directed episodes are quite memorable.
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Nov 28, 2020 18:52
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The Klowner posted:That said, while I don't think there's a "best" episode, the episode that has stuck with me the most over the years is season 4 episode 7, "The Suitcase." An absolute masterclass in catharsis. In fact, all of the Jennifer Getzinger-directed episodes are quite memorable. Yeah, I think there's actually a lot more consensus about this than there is about any season rankings. The Suitcase is very commonly considered one of the best TV episodes of all time, from any series. It's my choice too.
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Nov 28, 2020 18:58
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I'd third the suitcase if season four didn't also have the summer man. Probably the best 45 minutes of tv produced.
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Nov 28, 2020 19:02
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