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GoutPatrol posted:I think its not intentionally trying to make a connection, but I'm guessing when writing The Suitcase they went back to some familiar ideas to expand upon the ideas here. wow, this bit in the article: Luckily, Matt knew what he wanted. At my makeup and wardrobe test, he came over and said, "You know what's going to happen to Sal?" I said, "What?" Keep in mind, this was before we filmed the pilot. "Later on, I don't know when, but he's going to go on a business trip with Don and Don's going to bag a stewardess. And Sal's going to go on the trip too. He's going to have sex with some guy and Don's going to find out—but it's not going to matter." I said, "That's cool." I hadn't even read the whole script yet. I had just been cast. All I knew was: This was television! I was going to bring Matt's image of Sal to life. It really adds to the convo we were having earlier.
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Jan 22, 2021 14:53
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Yoshi Wins posted:Yeah, the end of this season is super strong. This is a very good episode, although I think the Glen part drags a bit. But that conversation with Helen Bishop is so powerful. Betty was trained to be a housewife and mother. She was never shown how to be nor expected to be an independent adult. It's a daunting prospect. And truth be told, she does have some childish tendencies, which is part of why she inappropriately takes comfort in Glen's affection. This episode was a purposeful contrast in studying various ways your childhood and parents can gently caress you up. Pete's family situation and Betty's, its a pretty obvious compare and contrast thing...with Pete coming off as more...healthy? Like the Betty household seems to have reared their children in illusions, lies, and infantilizing their children way past adulthood. William literally hid in a treefort. Gene, well we don't know how Gene is normally, but he seemed to have his way around the house, and his needs catered for. Betty from the start of the show has been a sheltered, naive, well, "princess", just like Gene said and went out of his way to foster. Pete is completely hosed up. he thinks getting close to someone is being able to have the means to hurt them, from Don, to his mother. Abuse and manipulation is his expressions of love. But at least he seems cognizant of how hosed up his childhood was, and seems to be trying to make a break from it, in one way or the other. Maybe not having an inheritance freed him in some way. Betty seems to still be trapped in the circle of her upbringing. The show seems to be saying that its better to be shown the truth, in all its nasty permutations, than be coddled. At least thats what I'm getting.
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Jan 22, 2021 16:07
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Jerusalem posted:
I think Don is completely shocked that Willy helped his daughter get laid by a stranger. Willy knew exactly what he was doing, and he made sure not to mention that he was Joy's father earlier, because it could have scared Don off. C-R-E-E-P-Y! I also always found it almost shocking that Don tears out THE LAST PAGE of the Faulkner book. Even tearing out the first page would have been much better. I think Don feels superior to these people because he's not as hedonistic as them. I mean, Don feels superior to everybody*, but I think there's a little more contempt behind it in this case. They were an interesting diversion, but he was decidedly unimpressed with them in the end. They have no ambition or work ethic, which Don does. Does that make him morally superior to them? Definitely not. Don is a cancer salesman. Does it make it easier to respect him on some level? Yes, I think so. *Except for all the times that he feels like he's a worthless piece of garbage that will be discovered at any minute Shageletic posted:This episode was a purposeful contrast in studying various ways your childhood and parents can gently caress you up. Wow, this post is awesome. Some very interesting ideas I never considered. Pete mixing up love and abuse is something that I'd never thought of before, but it does make sense. He's so hot and cold on Don, an abusive authority figure, but he's even more all over the place with Peggy throughout season 1.
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Jan 22, 2021 18:34
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Thanks! I'm a big fan of the show so have plenty of time to have thought about the character dynamics. One thing I forgot to mention is how healthy, comparatively, Pete and his brother (an excellent actor, and great everytime he shows up) are with each other. They know their parents are poo poo, but at least they've gone through it together, even tho his brother told on him. Betty and William honestly feel more dysfunctional to me. As a brother with four other brothers, I'm very away of the dynamic that happens when you grow up. You either drop the dynamics you had as children (for the most part) and become friends who have a LOT in common, or you hold onto it and gradually drift away. Pete and his brother seemed to have gone for the first option. Betty and William for the latter (with Betty still bossing him around like the elder sister).
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Jan 22, 2021 18:42
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Yes, I love that about them too. One of my favorite laughs of the whole series is when Bud says he visited their mother and Pete was all she talked about, and Pete says "Really?" and Bud says, "No." Pete thinks it's hilarious, and Bud's wife is disturbed. She doesn't get that they coped by making each other laugh with grim jokes about their parents being unloving or them wishing their parents were dead.
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Jan 22, 2021 20:36
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I'm not sure what just triggered the thought, but aviation comes up so much in the show and in so many different ways. Not just "they fly around, because they are fancy Jet Age business men," but in every aspect it can. Mohawk, American, the Flight 1 crash, the Jet Set California people, General Dynamics, North American Aviation, Ted and Jim are/were pilots, Ted's Cessna and his various adventures, Don's wistful contrail watching at McCann, Pete ending up at Learjet. Almost like it is supposed to be a theme that I'm too dense to figure out.
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Jan 22, 2021 23:19
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Yoshi Wins posted:Yes, I love that about them too. One of my favorite laughs of the whole series is when Bud says he visited their mother and Pete was all she talked about, and Pete says "Really?" and Bud says, "No." Pete thinks it's hilarious, and Bud's wife is disturbed. She doesn't get that they coped by making each other laugh with grim jokes about their parents being unloving or them wishing their parents were dead. Even for Bud being the golden child he's shockingly chill about it and doesn't rub it in Pete's face. Like they both just accepted they had weird hosed up parents and all they could do was what society expected of them as the monied class. Pete's casual dismissal of expecting anything to inherit which Bud readily acknowledges would've gone solely to him was brutal to watch in how blaise they both were about the whole thing. Their small interactions during the show, the back and forth between two people who barely act like work colleagues much less brothers always makes for extremely interesting insights into Pete's own brand of self loathing narcissism.
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Jan 22, 2021 23:38
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pentyne posted:Even for Bud being the golden child he's shockingly chill about it and doesn't rub it in Pete's face. Like they both just accepted they had weird hosed up parents and all they could do was what society expected of them as the monied class. Pete's casual dismissal of expecting anything to inherit which Bud readily acknowledges would've gone solely to him was brutal to watch in how blaise they both were about the whole thing. But I also think this is not just unique to Pete and the "monied" class. There were no expectations for siblings to be treated equally, or to receive equal inheritance. Hell that still happens in alot of families now.
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Jan 22, 2021 23:47
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I love this episode. I know I said something earlier bout this stretch of this episode and the next two being some of the best of all and I stand by it. California episodes are always good. The jet set crew are all pretty detestable in one way or another and don’s use of the last page of a book is loving hilarious. Also love Pete just getting ditched.
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Jan 22, 2021 23:55
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I don't always love Mad Men's sojourns to California but I think this one really works because of Willy, Joy and their entourage. They're just so weird, as though like they walked in from a different show in a different genre altogether, and it does a great job of getting the viewer in Don's mindset. There's always a level of discomfort being around them, even though they're fascinating. I'm torn (no pun intended) on Don ripping the last page out of the book. It's been a while since I read it, but from my recollections having the narrative stop midsentence would be perfectly on-brand for the rest of the text.
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Jan 23, 2021 00:09
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JethroMcB posted:I'm torn (no pun intended) on Don ripping the last page out of the book. It's been a while since I read it, but from my recollections having the narrative stop midsentence would be perfectly on-brand for the rest of the text. i went and reread the last few pages (https://www.fadedpage.com/books/201410L9/html.php ) and its not easy to identify a coherent thematic reference between the two. I think its just a cool book that she could have been reading, rather than anything much deeper than that. (you could make some kind of link about things being in their proper order, and normality/the status quo being restored, but that doesnt really fit because don ends the episode in california and not ny, so its reaching pretty far) i guess it IS a book about a dysfunctional family...
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Jan 23, 2021 00:32
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Sash! posted:I'm not sure what just triggered the thought, but aviation comes up so much in the show and in so many different ways. Not just "they fly around, because they are fancy Jet Age business men," but in every aspect it can. Mohawk, American, the Flight 1 crash, the Jet Set California people, General Dynamics, North American Aviation, Ted and Jim are/were pilots, Ted's Cessna and his various adventures, Don's wistful contrail watching at McCann, Pete ending up at Learjet. Almost like it is supposed to be a theme that I'm too dense to figure out. I have some thoughts on this, but I don't think they're relevant to ALL of your examples. Just some of them. Air travel was very glamorous in the 60s. It was the way of the future, and that future would be bright, clean, efficient, safe, comfortable, etc. But now air travel has completely lost its glamor. It's just a matter of time until Frontier takes the seats out and makes their flights standing room only. Mad Men goes back to the beautiful exterior and the broken interior, or the alluring promise and disappointed realization, again and again. That's not to say that the characters are never satisfied, but Shangri-La often turns out not to be all it's cracked up to be. So there's dramatic irony as we know what the future of air travel looks like, and they don't. There's quite a bit about what flying means to Peggy. Peggy dreams of flying on a plane for years before she gets the chance. When Pete brings up that he'll be flying again for the first time since his father died, she thinks he expects her to say that she's jealous. Her lack of flying experience comes up again in The Suitcase, where Don is surprised to find out she's never flown. She finally gets her chance at the end of season 5. Ted sends her to some town in Virginia or something on a tobacco assignment. We see her in hotel room, beaming. Then she looks out the window, and her room is at ground level, and the view is a parking lot where two dogs are having sex. Kind of undermines the thrill of her new adventure. But it doesn't get her down for long. She's smiling again a second later, enjoying that she's staying in a hotel room that her company paid for, after flying there on a flight that her company paid for. It represents a significant milestone in her life. She's going somewhere and her career is taking her there. She doesn't even care if "there" is a place where dogs are having sex in parking lot. Don looks much less engaged when he's flying. He's the hobo with the itinerant lifestyle. Going someplace new all the time is the norm.
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Jan 23, 2021 00:52
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The thing that most stands out to me about the page tearing isn't the content of the book itself or any significance of the writing on the last page, but that Don does it without thought. That's how little Joy means to him, he doesn't even consider "hey this is the book she was reading" he just sees something of convenience for himself in the moment and takes it and then moves on with no care for the damage he leaves in his wake. Basically a microcosm of his life/personality. Edit: re the air travel, I also like that this episode is focusing on the growing aeronautics industry, and how Don's earlier line about "go to the moon or blow up Moscow, whatever is more expensive" is sadly prophetic because aside from Pete's excited talk about the superman in space, almost all the focus at the convention ends up being about "look at the wonderful ways we can kill millions and millions of people!" - there's this bright hope for the future that turns out to be cast aside in favor of more death and destruction and war. And Pete and Don are there to leech off of it by helping the people who produce these weapons of mass destruction sell themselves and their product. Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 01:24 on Jan 23, 2021 |
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Jan 23, 2021 01:21
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Sash! posted:I'm not sure what just triggered the thought, but aviation comes up so much in the show and in so many different ways. Not just "they fly around, because they are fancy Jet Age business men," but in every aspect it can. Mohawk, American, the Flight 1 crash, the Jet Set California people, General Dynamics, North American Aviation, Ted and Jim are/were pilots, Ted's Cessna and his various adventures, Don's wistful contrail watching at McCann, Pete ending up at Learjet. Almost like it is supposed to be a theme that I'm too dense to figure out. Aviation and the its mystique was huge in the 60s. New technological future, an optimistic vision of America and all that. Also you can literally run away on a plane E: Wasn't Ted miserable flyong on his plane by the end of the show E2: What Yoshi said Shageletic fucked around with this message at 01:50 on Jan 23, 2021 |
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Jan 23, 2021 01:47
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I don't know why you guys are treating ripping pages out of books like it's a capital crime. I do it all the time. No gods no masters
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Jan 23, 2021 02:17
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Season 2, Episode 12 - The Mountain King Written by Matthew Weiner & Robin Veith, Directed by Alan Taylor Anna Draper posted:You can change. In the Draper Residence, Betty is immaculately groomed and dressed for a day at the stables, but the house is a mess. She yells for the children to clean up after themselves, reminding them she's not their maid. Moving into Don's study, she endorses his paycheck, forging his signature with practiced ease. How long has she been able to do that? It's certainly not unheard of for spouses to be familiar enough with their partner's signature to copy it, nor even for it to be commonplace for them to sign on the other's behalf... but in season one it never felt like this was a situation either Don OR Betty wanted: he controlled the family finances, she was happy to trust completely in his judgement. That she is signing for his checks now in order to keep the household in money isn't unusual, but the almost businesslike, practiced way she does it is what raises eyebrows. She pulls out a cigarette but can't find her lighter. Leaving the study to find it, she catches a familiar whiff in an unfamiliar setting, and follows it to the bathroom. Inside she finds a startled Sally Draper with a lit cigarette, the little girl quickly tossing it into the toilet and proclaiming childishly that she wasn't doing anything, as if she wasn't just caught red-handed. Furious, Betty hauls her out of the bathroom by the ponytail and shoves her into the closet, ignoring her protests that she wasn't doing anything. She snaps at a watching Bobby to go upstairs and is unfazed by Sally's appeal to what she thinks is a higher authority than her mother, warning that she'll tell daddy about this when he gets home. Betty, probably not even thinking about the fact that Don isn't coming home anytime soon, has no issue with this because Sally was absolutely in the wrong. What she does feel bite deep down into her soul though is when a weeping, protesting Sally lashes out and insists that Betty being mean is why daddy is gone, and demanding to know why she won't "let" him come home. Resting her forehead against the door, overwhelmed by hurt at her daughter's unthinking attack, she asks if Sally really thinks this is the case, and Sally reveals what so many other separated parents have learned to their detriment: kids notice things. She's told the kids that Don is on a trip, but then why is his suitcase still here? Betty opens the door and stares down at her tearful daughter, standing right beside Don's suitcase that was returned at the end of the last episode. Betty insists again that daddy IS on a trip, but it's a business trip, as if that explains the suitcase showing up on their doorstep without him. Sally asks if she can call him on the phone but she manages to wave that off by saying it's a long distance call, then reminds Sally that he would be very upset to learn she was smoking, and Sally's initial burst of defiance and laughable claims of innocence crumble away as she begs her mother not to tell on her. Betty instead sends her upstairs to do her homework, with a warning that when she gets back from horse-riding she expects a good report on their behavior from Carla. But with the children finally absent, she lets out a deep sigh: she managed to maintain the fiction that she and Don aren't having issues for now, but the cracks are starting to show, and Sally is only going to have more questions as time goes on. Don is on a trip of course, though it's certainly not for business. Stepping off the bus in San Pedro, pauses for a moment to look around, then puts on his hat and walks on. Behind him, a couple meet and embrace. There is no such welcome for Don, he is far from his family, far from a wife who would certainly be in hurry to hug him if she saw him. He's doesn't notice the couple though, too wrapped up in himself as always, and after discarding Joy he now walks unknowingly away from happiness and love.   At Sterling Cooper, Peggy Olson is attempting to run a meeting in her office with Sal and Ken regarding their Popsicle account. This is made more difficult by the running photocopier and various secretaries coming in and out, which caused her enough problems when she was a Junior Copywriter and is really cramping her style now that she's got one of the largest portfolios in Creative. The problem is that their client wants to sell Popsicles in Winter, and that's not exactly a time when they're in high demand. Ken complains he can't think in this "storage closet" but the fact is Peggy called this meeting which means it happens in her office, and when the others point out that means she is also responsible for "refreshments", she smirks and pours them both a cup of liquor. Sal fondly remembers his mother coming out with he and his brother to buy a Popsicle and then split it in half for them, handing them out like "Jesus at the Last Supper". Ken figures that was just because she was cheap (or rather, poor), but Peggy disagrees, noting happily that her own mother did the same. Much like Jesus/Mother herself she passes out the "treat/communion" of booze to them both, then ponders the issue. Popsicle wants to sell year around, and what is something that is done year around? A ritual. She ponders the breaking in half of the Popsicle, a common sight all over and one that can be repeated by mothers no matter what the season, just like communion. Ken is skeptical, it sounds... "Catholic"... to him, but Peggy is quick to point out that it's really more Christian, and it is about behavior and not religion. She's clearly thinking of something, but she can't help but get in one little defense of "her" religion, pointing out that the Catholic Church is certainly no slouch when it comes to selling an idea. Pete has grabbed a chocolate bar for a snack and returns to his office, asking if Hildy has any messages. She does, the most important being from Mr. Peterson who has questions regarding Pete's expenses at Lutece. Pete rolls his eyes, asking why Peterson doesn't just die already, he was entertaining IBM and it is "myopic" to question rolling out the red carpet for them. But Hildy is already moving on, her usual professional demeanor (unless she is drunk and anywhere near Harry Crane) slipping for a moment as her clear excitement overtakes her. She informs Pete that he has an appointment with Spence-Chapin on Thursday, utterly confusing him: who the hell are Spence-Chapin? She's quick and eager to "remind" him, they're an adoption agency and Mrs. Campbell set up the interview. A horrified Pete barely hears as Hildy uncharacteristically gushes, thrilled by the "blessed" act of a childless couple taking on an abandoned child for their own. He stammers out an "of course", not wanting to air his dirty laundry in public and reveal that, of course, Trudy has just gone ahead and made this decision for both of them, just like she did with the apartment and her parents' financial support. He finally manages to escape, actually seeking refuge in a call to Bert Peterson to explain his expenses rather than deal with this domestic issue. That might be an unpleasant conversation, but it's more palatable than the alternative at the moment. Bert Cooper greets his sister Alice in his office, where a fine lunch has been prepared for the both of them. They're pleasant enough to each other, but despite the claim made last episode that Alice will do what Cooper tells her, there are clear signs of long-established sibling tensions/eccentricities. She refuses to remove her shoes in the office, claiming her stockings cost more than his carpet, and isn't entirely willing to accept Cooper's praise for her absent companion Florence, who is visiting with her mother, grumbling that Florence can be moody. Even in this first ever encounter with this character, she feels like somebody with a backstory and prior history: who is Florence? Is she a companion in the purest sense of the word or is this a polite way of quietly/tacitly accepting a homosexual relationship? Either would be entirely in keeping with the lifestyle choices of a privileged woman of great wealth in the 1960s, but they quickly move on from Florence to lunch itself. Cooper is interested in if she has read through Putnam, Powell & Lowe's offer of a purchase, and she agrees it is a more than generous figure they're offering. Cooper agrees on that, in addition to the actual purchase cost the Partners are being offered $22.50 per share per year for the next decade, a sweetener that seems far too tempting to turn down. But even as they discuss this gigantic windfall, Alice can't help but get in a couple of very pleasant little digs/reminders of how Cooper got to where he got. She couches it as compliments to his business acumen, but first via a reminder that SHE was the one who backed his start, and secondly via a reminder that their mother felt that he would never amount to anything. Cooper doesn't rise to the bait or take the opportunity to speak ill of his mother, who after all is long dead and long past being able to hurt him, crediting her with making him the man he is today... itself pleasant on the surface though it can also be read as a reminder that their mother's cruelty inspired him to if only to spite her.   Alice asks if he'd mind if she drank then doesn't bother to wait for a response OR permission, simply telling their personal waiter to bring her a sweet vermouth. He leaves the room, and Cooper clearly understands this wasn't so much as a minor little power-play as a chance to get the two of them alone. He assures her that the waiter, Cleveland, can be trusted, but she ignores that to bring up the only sour note in this whole situation: he's already told her over the phone that he hasn't decided yet if he will sell, and she can't understand why. At first he tries to claim it was due to a promise he made to Roger Sterling's father, that he would look after Roger when he was gone. Alice isn't having that though, pointing out that all Roger has ever wanted is what he's now likely to get with his remarriage: to die in the arms of a 20-year-old girl. No, she knows that this is really about Cooper not wanting to give up his top spot, pointing out that even if he doesn't want to retire he can continue doing his job here at the Agency even after the sale is complete. "I'll be as useful as the Queen of England," he complains, to which she reminds him that in addition to his already great (and sooner to be greater wealth) he has a cattle farm out in Montana that he could happily go and retire to. A genuine smile crosses his face at the thought of all the cattle, whom he admits he loves deeply. Also he can't really argue with her reminder that he is... well, to put it bluntly, very old! Nor does he dispute her quieter reminder that he's not "well", which chimes with some of his odd behavior throughout this season. But still, there's something that doesn't quite feel right to him, and when Cleveland returns he has no qualms about admitting that for as great as this offer appears to be... you can't trust the Brits. In San Pedro, Don approaches a doorway to a small home from which the sounds of a labored performance of The Hall of the Mountain King emanate. As he waits for an answer, he remembers walking through another door, this time to his own small apartment back in 1950s, shortly after the flashback we saw earlier in the season where a woman accused him of not being Don Draper. She follows him into the apartment, hobbling slightly as she walks, warning him that she left an envelope in her hotel room and the police will come looking if she's not back in 2 days. The younger Don is perplexed by this statement, asking why she'd bring that up as he rifles through his papers, pulling out paperwork that proves he is Don Draper: his car title, his apartment lease. He insists that she is making a mistake, that while he may share the same name as her husband that is true of many men. That may be so, but none of those other Don Drapers used her husband's Serial Number to get a driver's license... and she doesn't see a birth certificate in among those other papers. He only hesitates for a second before claiming he has one in a safety deposit box, but she's heard enough. He's going by her missing husband's name and she needs to know what happened to him. She doesn't assume (or want to assume) that Don hurt him, in fact if anything she seems more ready to believe that he chose to run out on her this fake Don was involved in the process somehow. "Stop lying, you've been caught," she demands, warning him that she doesn't want to be forced to take further action. So he considers for a moment and then finally lets down the facade, one he still hasn't fully mastered in the first place, and admits for the first time since the explosion what really happened: Don Draper died. Her face crumples, she REALLY believed he'd just run off or disappeared elsewhere into the country. Almost stumbling, he helps her to a chair and pours them both a drink, considering her carefully, fearfully, sympathetic to her but also worried about how this will affect him. He admits that Don never told him he had a wife, but even now can't quite bring himself to admit the full truth, settling for telling her that her husband died "in combat" instead of due to a ridiculous accident caused by himself. Making a statement that would come to sum up much of his current day life, he promises her that he didn't think he was hurting anybody... but now that she knows, what is she going to do about him? He offers her Don's purple heart and dog-tags, and assures her that he's currently making good money (for what was once a poverty stricken farmer, absolutely) if she wants any. She has no interest in any of that though, just wrapping her head around something she must have known was at least a remote possibility: her husband of 7 years is dead. She came looking for answers and maybe, if not closure, a lead to at least find out new information. Instead what she got was an unexpected finality, and she muses how Don always wanted to marry her sister, self-deprecatingly explaining that her sister looks just like her but has two good legs (a victim of polio perhaps? or just a childhood injury or a condition she was born with?). When Don asks her name she gives it as Anna, and then asks him his. Of course he cannot answer Don Draper, but even so it feels peculiar to see Don at a stage in his life when the answer he gives still feels more natural to him than the name we would come to know him by. "Dick Whitman," he says, and it's clear that despite making it into the city and starting a new and different life, at heart he really is still Dick Whitman from Oregon.   "Well Dick, what do I do with you?" she asks in the 1950s... and in 1962 Anna Draper opens the door with a huge smile and embraces the man who stole her husband's name, an old and well-loved friend. She brings him in to listen to her student play the piano, and Anna notes his improvement as he finishes up, claiming he just needed an audience. The boy asks if Don is the next student and he admits he doesn't play, but that he thought the song sounded scary. A huge grin crossing the boy's face, he agrees, then takes a lollipop at Anna's urging and heads out the door into the sun to enjoy the rest of his day. Anna notes Don's tan and asks if he is on vacation, and he answers no, claiming to be on business even though he abandoned Pete without a word and hasn't been in contact with anybody back in New York since. Realizing something is wrong when she sees he has no luggage and he isn't entirely sure how long he intends to stay, she asks if he is in trouble but he isn't quite sure how to respond. With her he is momentarily that 1950s cross between Dick and Don once more, as unguarded around her as he can be around anybody... but still unable to bring himself to let down the facade he has mastered in the intervening years. Instead of telling her anything, he simply asks to take a shower and have a lie down, emotionally and physically exhausted and wanting nothing more than to sleep now that he's finally in a "safe" place. Pete Campbell's home isn't offering him the respite he once raved about in the early post-honeymoon phase of his marriage. He enters the glorious apartment that Trudy MADE him buy, financed by money from her parents that she MADE him take, determined that for once this isn't going to be something he lets her ignore his protests about. She greets him happily and tries to kiss him after he demands to know how Spence-Chapin happened, explaining as if it was all agreed upon that she put them on the list and they were lucky enough to go straight to the top. He blocks her kiss though, declaring that he will not be going and neither will she. She's shocked, and warns him not to raise his voice, trying to talk about it but he's had enough of her having her way (while she does get her way on a some major things, he actually gets things his way far more often, to be fair) and not accepting his status as the head of the household. So he puts it as bluntly as possible, they are NOT adopting a child and that is final. Outraged that he would dictate terms like this (again, to be fair, she tried to do the same by just adding them to the list on her own) she shouts back at him not to talk to her this way. It's a fight then, and though they're never pleasant it can be emotionally healthy to let out aggression at each other and push past the roadblocks to find some kind of healthy consensus... except instead of doing that, Peter acts like a child and scoops up the roast chicken plate and all, carries it out on the balcony and... drops it over the side! That... that could kill somebody! Trudy is horrified, racing to their bedroom shouting that he's lost his mind. Pete, like so many who have gone too far in a petulant rage, tries to act like he's satisfied to have "won" the fight but clearly is feeling anything but as he scoops up ice to add to a large drink. If he thought he could just burst in and be "the man of the house" and everything would just snap into place for him, he's once again found that despite his family name and status, the world still doesn't just automatically fall into lockstep with his desires.  Things seem to be going a little smoother at Joan's, where she and her fiance Greg are lying in bed together as The Day The Earth Stood Still plays on TV. Joan is feeling frisky, pleased that Greg seems to be regaining his energy after having been on call at the hospital. As she grinds against him in bed, she surprises him by climbing on top, telling him he can relax and let her "drive", fully intending to make him feel good... and it all goes horribly wrong. Alarmed at her sexually aggressive move, he insists she stop, claiming that he's still too tired and reminding her he will be on call against on Wednesday. Disappointed but accepting, she pulls away, but as they lie in bed together he speaks up again, asking where she "learned" to do something like that? She quickly assures him (with a lie) that there were no men before him, but his follow-up "apology" that he doesn't know all the things she likes in bed leave her further worried. She promises him that what he does with her in bed is absolutely what she likes, but then they simply lie side by side in bed, not talking. Even if she lied about no other men, she meant it of course: she enjoys sex with her fiance, but that doesn't mean they can't spice things up, and wanting to spice things up doesn't have to be an indictment of his prowess. Greg is clearly intimidated by her knowledge, suspicious of where she picked it up, suffering a sense of inadequacy himself, and all of that is a potent combination that should be (and appears to be) setting off some warning signals for Joan. At Sterling Cooper, Peggy Olson has been working late, well past the point where everybody else has gone home. Moving through the empty secretarial floor, she moves to a desk and bums a cigarette from a pack, having even forgotten to bring her own, having run out, or just needing a smoke at the end of a long day. There's no domestic arguments (explosive like with Pete or quietly upsetting like with Greg), no partner to share a bed with, no movie to watch or dinner to enjoy (or throw out a window), but while she seems tired she also doesn't at all seem like she's anywhere other than exactly where she wants to be. The next morning in San Pedro, Anna brings Don a beer on the porch and joins him in the neighboring seat. He jokes about the size of the inseam on the pants he's borrowed and she laughs that they belonged to Harold, a romantic partner she's long since kicked out even though "old ladies shouldn't be picky". Don takes a moment to enjoy the quiet, the picturesque setting, and she takes some pleasure in reminding him that he's the one who paid for this porch he's liking so much. He smiles at that, and laughs when she lets him know that the day before he called she saw a commercial being filmed on the beach. She sees it as a cosmic connection, he jokes that she's been in California for too long, and then they go back to enjoying the quiet. Real life has to intrude at some point though, and as of course she must she asks him how old his children are now. Sally is 8 and Bobby is 5 he admits, clearly pained to speak of them, and she promises him that if he would rather not talk about what brought him here to her door after all this time he doesn't have to. But the woman who confronted him in the 50s and warned him not to try and hurt her now tells him genuinely that she believes they met each other so they could both help to make the life of the other better. Clearly she has done well since that first meeting, though we never got to see the shift from accuser to close friends it's obvious that Don has bankrolled or at least financially supported her single life after revealing to her that her husband was dead. Don of course has had enormous success for himself, more than putting him into a position to be able to help her out in this fashion, but while the money remains everything else has turned bad, and for once he knows exactly who to blame and gets it absolutely right: he did. He even admits that his brother came to see him and he sent him away, surprising her because though she knows more about him than anyone she didn't know about Adam. He admits that she knows things about him that Betty doesn't, and questions himself more than her about why that would be: why can't he bring himself to tell her things that he willingly shared with Anna? "You love her," offers back Anna, reminding him - as Joan would probably agree - that you don't HAVE to tell your spouse everything about your life. She's sure it goes both ways, that there are things about Betty he doesn't know (probably true, but probably more than she thinks thanks to his old late night chats with Dr. Wayne), and gives him the best advice possible by asking him if he would like to call her... all but telling him to actually call her up and talk to her. After all, she spent long enough thinking her own Don Draper had simply disappeared without bothering to talk to her, she doesn't want that for any other wife. Don can't bring himself to do that though, and admits yet another thing to her he hasn't told anybody else. He "watches" his life. He sees it all there, the perfection of it all, the beautiful wife, the adoring children, the partnership, the professional and personal success, the wealth... his life is everything he could have ever dreamed and wanted, but he doesn't feel part of it. He scratches, he claws, he tries to push his way into it but it remains forever just out of reach, tantalizingly close but never there. Anna, who has probably experienced her own periods of feeling like an observer in the madness of her own life, can offer nothing more but a genuine,"I'm sorry," back to him. Not necessarily sorry that it is that way, but perhaps more sorry that he feels that way. Because the life IS there, it can be his... but Don continues to be the type who tries to have it all, who obsesses with perfection/image while simultaneously believing that he is a fraud and thus unworthy of what HE has built/achieved. Communicating with his wife would help immensely in that respect, being honest with others so he can be honest with himself. But even this close relationship with Anna is a safe one: she is a woman who knows his secrets, whose friendship he truly values, whose counsel he trusts... but she's also on the entire other side of the country from where he lives and safely insulated from every other aspect of his life.   Roger visits Cooper in his office to remind him that Putnam, Powell & Lowe's EXTREMELY generous offer is still waiting for a response, and they only have 72 hours to make it. Cooper has Roger take a seat, testily pointing out that he doesn't like being on a timer to make a decision about selling HIS life's work, especially not when Roger's own enthusiasm comes from needing extra money to cover the divorce and his remarriage. For once though, Roger is not immediately subservient to Cooper's seniority, waving off Cooper's reminder that his late wife was the one who introduced Roger and Mona, even going so far as to crack a joke about telling her ghost it didn't work out. He reminds him once more that it is a win-win, they can both continue on exactly as things were before... just with a lot more money. It will still be THEIR building, THEIR names on the Agency, THEIR offices. The only difference will be they can afford diamonds on the doorknobs. Grumpily Cooper agrees that he will call a meeting of the Partners to accept or decline the deal, and a satisfied Roger prepares to leave, though not before getting in one last dig by snippily pointing out that Jane makes him very happy. "That's good to know" mumbles Cooper, who could clearly care less, already going back to the work that has been his life for untold decades now. Roger leaves, not entirely pleased by this last line but also in no mood to argue after getting what the wanted: the meeting with the Partners will surely be a formality, the deal will be accepted and they'll all be immensely rich(er) afterwards. That always helps to soothe over frayed tempers. There's a certain line that sticks with me though, Roger's complaint that he knows Cooper thinks he didn't get his hands "dirty" because he wasn't in business during the Great Depression. In season 1, both Roger and Don commented on the oft-repeated wisdom that EVERY generation thinks the one that follows it are useless and ruining society. Roger though served in World War 2, the generation that "got all the glory" according to Don Draper, and even he suffers from a suspicion he is looked at as inferior by Cooper's generation because he had it "easy" by "only" having to fight in the biggest war in global history. It is true that he grew up in wealth, that his life has been a relatively charmed one, and Cooper's mentoring wasn't just out of love for the younger man or a respect for his acumen with clients but an obligation to Roger's favor. For Roger, the knowledge has always been there that he is the "lesser" of the two Senior Partners, but now that they both have a chance to get rich beyond their wildest dreams some of that frustration is bubbling to the surface. After all, soon they'll both be on the same (extraordinarily high) level. In Pete's office, he records a voice memo for later transcription regarding his trip to California, making sure of course to namedrop Don like a good little rear end-kisser as he discusses the financial power of Congressmen to put money into actual advertising as opposed to "only" Public Relations. He's interrupted by Hildy over the intercom, letting him know that his father-in-law is on the line. Bracing himself, he picks up the phone and puts on a cheerful greeting to Tom, who is telling the truth when he tells him he hates having to make this phone-call, but it seems that Clearasil has decided to put their account with Sterling Cooper in review. Pete knew it was coming, and for his part in this little farce he decides to make Tom squirm, declaring that this comes as a shock to him given that Clearasil's sales since coming on with Sterling Cooper have been spectacular. Grumpy, upset, decidedly NOT wanting to have this conversation that HE instigated, Tom tells Pete to calm down as it is only a review and Sterling Cooper will have a chance to "turn it around". Pete isn't letting him off the hook though, continuing to pretend that he is taking this call at face value, asking him what exactly there is to turn around given the success of their campaigns. Tom, exasperated, explains that any good businessman knows that his work suffers when his wife is unhappy, and Pete bitterly remarks that the two seem more linked than ever in this case. That's when things get nasty and the masks come off, as Tom yells that Pete's only concern should be making his daughter happy, and Pete snaps back that Trudy is HIS wife and this is between them. Unable to help himself, Pete snaps at Tom to just go ahead and end the relationship with Sterling Cooper because "you're not going to get what you want", and then goes off on Tom for sticking their noses into his marriage and ruining things between him and Trudy, who he loved when he first met. Tom demands to know what he means by "you were in love with her" instead of loves, and an angry Pete snaps back that Tom knows he didn't mean it in that way (or did he?). Seeing that all this isn't going anywhere, mad at his son-in-law, upset for his daughter, Tom takes control of himself and agrees with Pete that perhaps it would be for the best to just end the Clearasil/Sterling Cooper connection as suggested. He hangs up, and Pete is left in a similar position to his fight with Trudy: it felt good to lash out like he did, but the immediate aftermath leaves him feeling hollow and just as conflicted as before. Roger Sterling once said that one of the joys of this business was getting to "fire" a client, but now in addition to blowing up his domestic life, Pete Campbell is going to have to explain why he's lost a big account that was doing great as a client.   Don is napping on Anna's couch when she drops a bag onto his lap, telling him she bought him some clothes. She hobbles out of the room and Don's mind shifts back to the 50s, the younger Anna hobbling back into the room with drinks past a Christmas tree. The tension and suspicion between the two from their first meeting is a distant memory now, much like the original Don Draper was. It's a shame that we didn't really get to see the development of this bond between the two, but it is pretty easy to fill in the gaps: an unhappy woman who wanted to know where her husband had gone but wouldn't have been surprised to find out he'd run out on her; a desperately lonely man living under a false name to escape the miserable childhood filled with emotional and physical abuse. The two found and appreciated each other, the first of one of the few non-romantic/non-sexual relationships with a woman that this new Don Draper would have. He passes her a gift, making her giggle as she reminds him Christmas isn't till tomorrow, but he has something else to speak of. Eyes alight, face aglow with an unspoiled and pure happiness, Don tells her about a woman he has met. Anna's reaction shows that there have been plenty of those, but this one is different he insists. Having moved on from selling cars to working in advertising, Don Draper has met a model called Elizabeth Hofstadt and fallen deeply in love. She's beautiful and educated, from a good family with money of her own, and he wants her to meet Anna. She's thrilled of course, delighted to see Don looking almost boyish, close to blushing as he speaks with open reverence of the woman who he would go on to cheat on, to belittle, to try more than once to run out on and who he has abandoned in a fit of pique after being called out on his childishness 10 years later. But for now, in this moment, he is very much in love, and admits that he wants to ask Elizabeth - who he calls Betty (and Birdie for short) - to marry him. This makes her even happier, until his face falls and he reminds her of what this means. Technically speaking, he is already married... to Anna. He may not be the real Don Draper, but he has taken over his life, and that means in the eyes of the law he is married to Anna Draper. So to marry Betty he needs to "divorce" Anna, a final severing of the unhappy marriage that will irrevocably cement that her Don is well and truly gone. She blinks and considers it, and then nods and agrees, admitting that their "marriage" is not something she had ever considered. Don recommends she find a lawyer, promising to pay for it and assuring her that he will take care of her financially for the rest of her life. She of course tells him he doesn't need to do that but he insists, rejecting the idea that he doesn't owe her anything, because he knows he owes his entire life to her. She could have exposed him, made him Dick Whitman again, destroyed the new life he was making for himself and he wouldn't have been able to blame her. Instead, she helped him maintain the fiction of his new identity, she gave him moral support and became perhaps the only person in the world he could talk to openly. When she remarks this will be their last Christmas together he disagrees, saying she can come and visit, be part of the family, laughing that she can be his cousin Anna. She laughs too, but doesn't budge: she knows what this means, and she supports it: the chance at a whole new life, the chance at the happiness in marriage that she never got, and she wants that for him even if it means the absence of Don Draper in her life... again.  
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Jan 27, 2021 04:37
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At Sterling Cooper, Peggy presents her pitch to the Popsicle people, who have a pertinent question: where's Don? Ken dances around the subject, introducing them to Peggy and making a vague comment about Don being "under the weather" before assuring them Don has signed off on everything. With that, he passes it to Peggy, who immediately launches into a pitch that immediately banishes all thoughts of Don Draper from their mind. "Take it, break it, share it and love it" she repeats over and over, selling them on the concept of the Popsicle as a ritual, one enjoyed all year around. It isn't about flavor or color, it's about a shared experience, the purity of love from the mother who breaks the twin pop and passes one each to her children who are equal and beloved in her eyes. Sal's art repeats the logo, and bears an image for a mother passing half the Popsicle to each of her children. It's beatific... and very, very, very clearly based on the image of Christ. The Popsicle people seem to sense the familiarity ("no, it's original!" Peggy openly lies, having borrowed from the Catholic Church whose selling ability she rates so highly), noting that there is something about the mother they feel they've seen before. More importantly though, they hadn't mentioned to anybody but one of their desires for whatever advertising campaign they got was mention of the word love. Peggy's repetition and use of ritual works for them, and the inclusion of love is the icing on the cake. They're sold, completely, and Peggy has just nailed a pitch that for the first time has NOT gone through any other filter but her own. Sure she was inspired by Sal's story and the references to communion/the Church, but she was the one who put it all together, who wrote the copy, who directed Sal's art, who came up with the pitch and then presented it... and she has knocked it out of the park. Who the hell needs Don Draper? Sarah Beth Carson receives a phone-call at her home from Betty Draper, who admits that she's been thinking about putting Sally into private school and wants to know how Becky likes hers. Sarah Beth, at first a little on guard at hearing Betty's voice, relaxes at the mundanity of the question and agrees that Becky appears to be showing more independence as a result of attending the school. But of course that reason was just an excuse for Betty to call, whether she has actually considered private school for Sally or not is irrelevant to the real reason: to bring up Arthur. Sweetly she notes that she hasn't seen Sarah Beth at the stables recently, and remarks that she saw in the paper that Arthur and Tara are getting married this weekend. Sarah Beth breaks down, admitting that she can't stop thinking about Arthur and how the thought of him marrying another woman makes her miserable. Still acting sweet, Betty commiserates that this is why they're called crushes, and then pretends surprise when Sara Beth despairingly admits that it was more than that. What she thinks she is getting from Betty is a sympathetic ear, somebody who will understand her situation and commiserate. Instead she gets Betty expressing "shock" that she slept with Arthur, condemnation for cheating on her husband and with another woman's fiance to boot! Furious, she reminds Betty that she had eyes for Arthur too, and Betty smugly retorts that there is a difference between wanting and having. Betty pretends not to have had any idea that her setting the two of them up for lunch would result in an affair (or one-night-stand at least), and a revolted Sarah Beth calls her out for being so cruel. Betty won't let that stand though, loudly proclaiming down the phone that nobody forced her to sleep with Arthur, enjoying knowing that she has the upper hand "morally" in this situation. Panicked, Sarah Beth hangs up, and Betty allows herself a moment of unease at her own cruelty before moving on with her day. Why did she do this? The setup in the first place was bad enough, but calling her up just to stir the pot and rub Sarah Beth's face in her own infidelity? That's cruel. Why do it? Perhaps because Betty was jealous, jealous of Sarah Beth talking up Don as "perfect", of her simple assertion that her own husband was easy to please (Betty, of course, knowing that for whatever reason she herself isn't "enough" to please Don). Perhaps because she was mad that Sarah Beth was so brazen about her desire for Arthur, and Betty wanted to prove her own "moral" superiority for resisting his advances and then seeing Sarah Beth crumble at the first sign of interest from him? Or perhaps simply because Betty felt betrayed by Don and wanted to hurt somebody else in turn, and Sarah Beth was simply her most convenient target? Whatever the case it was cruel, and unnecessary, and achieved nothing but the destruction of a friendship she valued, all in favor of immediate short term satisfaction. Unlike Pete Campbell, however, in the immediate aftermath she isn't left feeling sick and unfulfilled, perhaps because she's already so used to a vague feeling of disappointment in her life that after the fleeting high of her "revenge" feeling bad about it just makes her feel normal?  In Peggy's office, her own high from the pitch is punctured when she returns and finds a grumpy technician finishing up work on the photocopier. Without even an introduction he simply declares that he is going to tell her something she can pass on to her "little friends", lecturing her about how the photocopier is a delicate piece of machinery that needs to be treated with respect if they want it to work. With that he storms out, leaving behind an offended Peggy who can't quite believe the condescension she's just been treated with so soon after her success with Popsicle. As Roger Sterling leaves the office (is it 4:30pm already?) he finds Peggy sitting outside waiting for him. She stands as he walks out, wanting to speak to him, and with agitated good humor he explains he has to make a 6:30 dinner reservation. Stumbling a little, less assured than she usually is during a presentation, she explains she is a copywriter and for a moment mild panic crosses Roger's face as he asks if he called her something else. No, she explains, before letting him know that she bought the Popsicle Account in today by herself. "Did you hear about this, Ginger?" he asks his secretary with a wide grin, mistaking Peggy's statement for the enthusiastic bragging of a child to her parent about a good grade or something along those lines. She quickly corrects him on that, she needs her own office because she can't be credible and do business while sharing a room with a Xerox Machine. Freddy Rumsen's office has remained vacant since he went on "six-month leave" and she thinks she should have it. "It's yours," Roger replies simply, surprising her. He comments that young girls today are very aggressive and she quickly apologizes for being impolite, but he didn't mean it as an insult, he finds it refreshing (he's probably thinking of Jane in the moment) especially as there are a number of men in the office and not one of them has had the balls to ask for Freddy's office since his departure. They're joined by Joan who is walking arm-in-arm with fiance Greg, happy to show off the handsome doctor as she introduces him to Roger (and Peggy too, but it's really all about Roger). Peggy congratulates Joan again on her engagement and thanks Roger for his decision before leaving. Roger admits that he's probably going to be late to his dinner appointment now and is surprised to hear that Greg and Joan are going to Le Cote Basque, remarking that he thought she hated French food? "There's a new chef," she explains sweetly, and Roger says his goodbyes to them and to Ginger, telling Greg it was a pleasure to finally meet him. Greg smiles back at this, but his face fell when Roger mentioned Joan not liking French food, his mind whirling as he considered HOW one of the Senior Partners of the firm would know what foods she likes and dislikes. Left alone, they walk arm-in-arm back up the floor to her desk where she wants to collect her purse, but he can't help sneaking a peek inside Don's office. He suggest she fix him a drink since that's what "these guys do all day" right? He's seen the movies! She can pretend he is her boss, reading the name Don Draper on the door. Not entirely pleased at the thought but willing to play along for her man, Joan leaves her flowers on her desk and steps into the room with a warning it can only be one drink. As she pours for him though he steps up close behind her and runs his hands all over her. At first she is playful back at him, even as she reminds him that this isn't an appropriate place for this kind of thing. Pretending not to be bothered, he points out that Roger seems to know a lot about her and she responds back with the entirely reasonable answer that she's worked there for close to a decade, of course he does. But Greg is still all over her, getting more aggressive now, ignoring her warnings that this isn't her office, that she doesn't want to do this here. He forces her around and down to the ground, gripping her wrists and overpowering her, pressing her onto the floor. "This is what you want, isn't it?" he asks in complete contrast to her repeated requests for him to stop, reaching down and forcing her arms back against the floor after undoing his belt. She stops resisting, not out a sudden desire or acceptance of his aggression, but because she knows he isn't going to stop and she sees the path of least resistance as the fastest way out of this situation. Even that isn't enough for him though, as he forcibly presses her face against the floor and away from him (subconsciously does he fear looking into her eyes and seeing the hurt and pain he is causing her?) and has his way with her, raping his fiance on the floor of Don Draper's office. The so-called perfect man, handsome and talented and loving, losing his mind over the fact that his fiance - a woman in her 30s! - might have had some sexual experience before him. Because he feels inadequate, less of a man and intimidated by her experience. This wasn't about sex, or passion, or desire... he raped her because he felt a lack of control, a lack of power, and this is how he makes himself feel better about it, how he "balances" things back to their "proper" order. When he is done, he waits outside for her to clean herself up, and offers not a word of apology or even any indication that he regrets his actions with the clarity of hindsight. No, for Greg he has "taken charge", regained control and dominance in the relationship, and he has the gall to complain to her that they need to get going so they aren't late for their reservation. He walks out, taking the lead this time, no longer arm-in-arm, while Joan follows in his wake, devastated but doing her best to maintain her composure. She leaves the flowers behind unnoticed, the victim of a rape who must now go to dinner with her rapist, sleep in bed beside him, marry him, and spend a life with him knowing that even should she report what he did, the most likely reaction would be getting told that he did nothing wrong. This is the world Joan Holloway lives in, about as far from the fairy-tale ending she worked so hard for, and in the end it looks like she is going to be a bird in a cage after all.  The next day, Alice arrives for the meeting of the Partners where she is greeted by Roger who immediately begins reciting from A.A Milne's Buckingham Palace, joined by Alice who is pleased to enjoy a ritual they apparently enjoyed when Roger was much, much younger. It's not quite breaking a Popsicle in half, but Peggy was right, people do enjoy their rituals. Cooper calls the meeting to order, acknowledging the presence of their lawyer Mr. Whitehouse and the absence of junior Partner Don Draper. As he starts to discuss Putnam, Powell & Lowe's offer though, Alice - Secretary-Treasurer - interupts to ask where Don is. Roger jokes that he can bring a picture for her to stare at, assuming that she just likes being in the presence of the very handsome man, but she reminds them all that Don (who argued against American Airlines) can be quite savvy. It's a moot point though, Don's not here and his partnership share is small enough as to make no difference in voting. Cooper though for the first time seems to really register that he hasn't seen Don Draper in some time (Alice's comment that he was unwell and some of his behavior this season makes me ponder whether Cooper's mind is starting to slip) and asks where he is. Roger explains he was on a business trip to California, and when that doesn't satisfy he simply offers that Don is taking some time. Even though Don hasn't been in touch, Roger seems confident he knows the reason for his absence, eventually sharing with them that Don has been having marital problems before quickly telling the secretary not to note that in the minutes. In any case, he stands to make half-a-million dollars (in 1962!) from the deal so it is very unlikely he would protest. The man himself is walking happily down the street in San Pedro, mind about as far away from the inner workings of Sterling Cooper as possible. He's bringing groceries back to Anna's when he is distracted by the sound of a revving engine. With delight he realizes that one of several cars being worked on outside of a home is a 34 sedan, just like the one she used to sell during his time as a car salesman. He approaches and asks the men working what they have done to it, because the sedan is almost unrecognizable. Don's a stranger, but he knows something about cars and he's shown a genuine interest, and there's nothing they like more than talking about cars themselves. So the man mainly working on the car (his young son watching and assisting where required) explains the modifications he has made, essentially putting two Fords and a Buick together into one car. Another, quite large man approaches carrying a pitcher of beer he is openly drinking in the middle of the day, happily noting that the car is now all motor and no weight. Don admits he knows nothing about Hot Rods, but he is fascinated at the prospect, how fast do this Frankenstein of a car go? The 34 sedan's owner - Kess - grins and says it will scare people, then introduces himself and his son Doogie, and Don introduces himself right back... as Dick. The other man is Walt from Indianapolis, who has done the bright red color job on one of the other hot rods further down the road. Don asks if they need help, admitting that while he doesn't know how to build them, he does know how to sell them. They don't know about that, there are Custom Shops that do great business, but Walt moved to California to get into this line of work and he's still working at a bar. They let Don know where the cars will be racing though this coming Sunday, and he agrees that he will look into attending. As they go back to work and he continues on, he can't help but run his hand over the Walt's paintjob and listen to the sound of the revving engines. It's familiar but it's new, a chance to take his skills as a salesman in an entirely new direction. He once told Roger that when he was done with advertising, he'd want to do something, anything else... could this be it? At Sterling Cooper, the votes are taken. Roger and Alice are both yays, and Cooper himself hesitates but finally adds his own yay. That is that then, the decision has been made, Sterling Cooper will be sold to Putnam, Powell & Lowe. Still, it isn't quite as simple as that, Mr. Whitehouse will write up a counter-offer, because of course despite how phenomenal the deal being offered is they are going to ask for more, with the full knowledge that now it's simply a matter of the final price. Roger and Alice make their exits, Alice getting in one little barb on Roger by noting the sale will be good for his children and offering a,".....really?" response to his reminder that he only has the one. Does she mean a bastard somewhere? Or that he'll have more... or is it purely a dig at the fact his next wife is practically a child herself, as young if not younger than Margaret Sterling. They leave, as does Whitehouse and the secretary, and that finally leaves Bertram Cooper alone. He has just made a deal that will make him even richer than before, the culmination of a life's work. He might have just made himself as useless as the Queen of England, but he is undeniably a winner out of this deal. So why does he look so incredibly miserable? Why does he look like he knows he has just made a huge mistake. Perhaps because better than anybody he knows that things have now changed forever. Unlike Freddy Rumsen he will be able to keep coming into that office each day, but like Freddy Rumsen he doesn't quite know who he is if he isn't the top man of Sterling Cooper. Or perhaps he still, somehow, knows that this deal is too good to be true, and that you really can't trust the Brits. Something might be up, some piece of strategy he isn't seeing... but it doesn't matter now, it's too late to do anything about it, for all intents and purposes Sterling Cooper is now simply a subsidiary of Putnam, Powell & Lowe.   Peggy leads a mover carrying a box of her things to her new office. She stops at Joan's desk to ask if she has heard anything from Don yet, and when Joan says she hasn't asks if what she thinks has caused his absence. Joan notes back what Peggy should already know (and in fact told off another secretary for doing herself not so long ago), that she doesn't think about this at all. Peggy accepts this and turns to what she thinks is a more pleasant subject of conversation: Greg. She gushes over how handsome he is, the kind of doctor you want to see who only exists in the movies. Joan agrees simply enough, but in the end can't resist showing off. Shoving deep down her own trauma she speaks glowingly of her perfect fiance, about how he specializes in thoracic surgery AND volunteers at another hospital "stitching up negro children". Peggy of course is impressed, declaring him a keeper for sure which Joan agrees with. She asks when the wedding will be but they're interrupted by the arrival of Ken and Harry, showing off Paul who has returned from Mississippi at last. He proudly declares that he thinks they made a real difference and it was the greatest time of his life, which of course Harry undermines by gleefully revealing that Sheila dumped Paul 3 days into the protests. Oddly enough that doesn't Paul as much as what he discovers has happened in his absence (and Harry is shocked too) as they finally notice that Peggy is moving into Freddy's office, and she explains that it is HER office now. "Why don't you just put on Draper's pants while you're at it?" complains Paul, while a mortified Harry bitches that he is the Head of Television and has to share an office with "an orangutan." Peggy takes it all in stride, all their bitching and moaning, because of course she knows that not only did she earn this office, but that like Roger said any one of them could have probably had it (especially Harry) if they'd just had the balls to approach him and ask for it. She is the one who works the long hours well after everybody else has left, who comes up with ideas that clients respond favorably to, who puts in the hard work and is being rewarded for it. She heads into the office, and Ken asks Joan if she's heard from Don. "Yes, he called" she surprises them by responding, before adding on,"He wants you to get back to work." Chastised, they leave, a sullen Paul glaring at yet another office/promotion/opportunity he has been passed over for. Peggy steps out to look at her door, asking Joan who she has to speak with to get Freddy's name off and her own on. Joan promises that she will take care of it, and then finally answers Peggy's earlier question: her wedding will be at Christmas. "That's wonderful," smiles Peggy, then heads back into the office with her eyes still on the door. Left alone, Joan's face falls a little before the mask comes back on and she goes back to work. She once told Peggy that she had no interest in succeeding in Peggy's world, satisfied with her own position as Office Manager. Since then she's achieved what she always claimed was the dream: marriage to a handsome, successful man... and yet now she finds herself in the unwelcome position of being jealous of, of all people, Peggy Olson. Another woman facing up to the difference between her fantasy and the sad reality of life is Betty Draper. Dressed up for the stables, she hears Sally come home and calls her into the living room, where a gift is waiting... but not before a talk. Trying her best not to talk down to her daughter, she admits she hasn't been entirely fair and she wants to make up for it because as Sally gets older and life becomes more complicated, the time is coming where Betty won't be able to give her what she wants. That day hasn't come yet though, and she hands over the package to Sally who opens it to discover, to her great joy, her own pair of riding boots. But as Sally hugs her mother with pure love, just like she did her father when he bought her the dog to cover over his poor parenting, the other shoe drops. Betty reminds her that she was talking about her being a big girl, and now as a big girl it is time she learned the truth. She explains that her and daddy are having a "disagreement" and that is why daddy went away. She at least has the decency to admit that she doesn't know where he is or when he might be coming back, but then promises her daughter based on nothing that everything will be okay. "Okay!" agrees Sally brightly, because she's still an 8-year-old girl and assumes her mother must be telling her the truth/know what is going to happen. Betty smiles, relieved to have gotten her daughter back on side again after being accused of being mean and horrible and the reason for Don's disappearance (and also to have a new riding partner to replace Sara Beth! As well as potentially to shield her from any temptation with Arthur?). She has effectively manipulated her daughter in much the same way she manipulated Sarah Beth, couching everything in a way designed to establish her superiority... maybe she's not do different from Don after all. But as she leans forward she feels and notices something, and stands up with a start, Sally gasping that her mother is bleeding. Betty quickly sends her off to the kitchen to have a snack, saying she will change before clutching at her stomach. Her period has caught her completely by surprise, the significance of which is beyond me at the moment. It's an odd thing to have happen within this scene, and surely will play into future events, but what those might be I have no idea.   In San Pedro, Don fixes a chair and is skeptical when Anna offers him a tarot deck because she wants to give him a reading. He claims it is like an ink blot test, you see what you want to see, but plays along and places his hand on the deck before she starts laying it out. He lights up a cigarette, noticing his copy of Meditations in an Emergency (confirming she was the recipient) on the bookshelf, and asks if she read it. She did, and it reminded her of New York AND made her worry about what was going on with him, for good reason it seems. The cards don't worry her though, even if they do show him in a strange place, because they show the sun and indicate that things will get better. He spots the Judgement card and assumes it is bad news, the end of the world and so-forth, but she corrects him that it actually stands for resurrection. Even though he jokes he doesn't want to hear the full meaning, he takes a seat across from her to listen. Looking out through the window as the ocean breeze moves the curtains, he comments that he can smell the ocean. She explains the meaning of the cards to him, pointing out the placement of The World card and promising him it means he shares a connection and meaning with the rest of the world. He thinks that is a nice thought, but she insists it is true, and gives him her read on the meaning straight up, referencing his earlier dismay over feeling like an observer in his own life: the only thing that is keeping him from being happy is his belief that he is alone. He considers that for a moment, desperately wanting for it to be the case, but asks what if he really IS alone. "Then you can change," she offers back, a not-too subtle reminder that his scratching and clawing to be part of his own life is trying to make a change to it to force himself in, as opposed to changing himself to fit in. "People don't change," he replies, despite sitting across from not just an example of somebody who did but being an example himself.... he is a far cry from Dick Whitman, even if he chooses to go by that name in her company. Instead of arguing with him, she lifts The World card again and offers another interpretation, that the card or at least the woman on it stands for wisdom. As you live, you also learn, further reinforcing her earlier statement that you CAN change. He smokes and considers, eyes drawn once again to the window, the breeze, and the intoxicating smell of the ocean. In New York, Peggy Olson enjoys the quiet of her large new office and its complete absence of a photocopier. She answers a knock at the door and Pete steps in, and the fact he knocked at all says a tremendous amount: she isn't somebody whose office you just barge into now, she is a somebody at Sterling Cooper at last. He's pleased to see her having a drink, that she is celebrating her success, even if he is a little surprised that Freddy Rumsen left his bar behind. She happily acknowledges that yes she will be getting her own secretary, when only two years ago she was one herself, and when he suggests she put photos of her family and loved ones on the wall she easily sidesteps that by instead noting she plans to put up posters of HER campaigns - not Don's, not Paul's or Ken's or anybody else's, they belong to her now. Finally Pete can't help it, asking in a far nicer way the same question Harry, Ken and Paul have been asking... how the hell did she get THIS office? "I'm sleeping with Don," she jokes,"It's really working out." That he laughs says a lot. There was a time when everybody assumed that Peggy's treatment HAD to be the result of an affair with Don, that there was no way she could possibly have made the shift from secretary to junior copywriter based purely on her own merits. Now though he simply laughs at her making a joke just like any of the other boys would do. In fact, what he says next truly goes to demonstrate his shift in perceptions of her, as he essentially reports to her that Sterling Cooper is likely to lose the Clearasil account. She's surprised, sales have been good and she disputes Pete saying he hasn't been doing his job, not understanding the double-meaning implied while also acknowledging that he has actually put work into an account that was essentially gifted to him. He guesses that Don will dance on his grave if he ever returns, and that leads Peggy to inquire again what happened in Los Angeles. Unlike Joan, Pete is more than ready to gossip, admitting that Don just disappeared with such suddenness that Pete actually considered calling the police. Peggy asks why he didn't and he admits that it wasn't a total surprise that Don would just disappear, especially considering the things he knows about Don's background. Despite being in the very act of gossiping with him, Peggy closes down a bit, warning Pete she has no interest in gossip about Don's background. Pete shrugs it off, simply saying that Don pulling a disappearing act wouldn't be a complete surprise because he knows he has done it before. With that put out there, he sighs and admits he had better go home, a trip he is surely dreading. Before he goes though, he stops and offers her congratulations. This time there is none of the spite and bad feelings that surrounded his "congratulations" after Freddy got fired. This time he isn't thinking that he is somehow to be credited for her success. He is, in his own way, acknowledging her as an equal (and in some small ways a superior, such as how he reported the Clearasil news to her) who achieved purely on her own merit. She thanks him and he leaves, and she sits alone at HER desk, drinking what is now HER liquor from HER glass. Peggy Olson is living proof of Anna Draper's claim, you CAN change and make your life better, and for this moment at least she is really, truly happy.  In San Pedro, Dick Whitman/Don Draper steps into the ocean and lets the waves wash over him. What is he thinking, what is he planning, what is running through his mind? It remains a mystery, he is at his most open when he is with Anna and even then he is still largely a closed book. She is the "therapist" who helps him talk through things, even as he believes therapy is simply a sell-job to get money. We can only speculate, and for me I think the waves are less a way for Don Draper to feel at one/connected with everything like Anna suggested, and more a way to disappear. The enormity of the ocean reveals itself as the camera pulls out and out, Don getting smaller and smaller as the waves continue their relentless, uncaring, unstoppable repetition. Like King Canute, he is powerless before nature, and every time the waves wash over him he must feel that power and in turn his own powerlessness. I don't think Don seeks oblivion, he is not a suicidal person, but for the moment he does seek an end to the frustrations and conflicting desires/motivations/fears/needs always roiling in his head. It may only be temporary, but against the vastness of the ocean, in those moments when the water engulfs him and for just a moment he ceases to be, it must be blessed relief. The music over the closing credits, Cup of Loneliness, sings of both stepping out of darkness into a new life, but also of making a stand, of going through suffering to achieve something better. Don came to San Pedro seeking some sense of who he is and what to do next. He's long past being Dick Whitman, he made that new life Anna spoke off on Christmas Eve and became the true Don Draper at last. But he also wrecked that life, and though the ocean and the waves will not stop, eventually he must step out of them. When that time comes, the decision remains: salvage the old life or once again start completely over. Can he change? Can he be happy? Can he fix a mess of his own making? Those answers will eventually come one way or the other... but for now there is just the blessed moments of oblivion as he lets the ocean take him, and subsumes himself in its unthinking, uncaring, unknowing embrace.  Episode Index Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 04:41 on Jan 27, 2021 |
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Jan 27, 2021 04:38
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Oh man, you finally got to the Greg scene. Probably the most horrible moment in the show in a show filled with them.
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Jan 27, 2021 05:29
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Lovely write up. And yeah, Greg, hoooo boy.
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Jan 27, 2021 05:37
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I went in expecting an argument, a blow-up or fight between them over her "lack" of purity or somesuch misogynistic nonsense. What I got instead was far, far worse and deeply disturbing, made even worse by the presumptuous, entitled way he acts afterwards where he actually chides her for making them late to dinner by taking so long to redress and compose herself after he raped her. There hasn't been much of Greg so far but this knocked right up there with the absolute worst people on the show, and it's so sad seeing Joan start extolling his virtues to Peggy later on. All part of the recurring theme of image being everything to the people in this show.
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Jan 27, 2021 05:44
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... Dick didn't cause Don's death, unless he got the at th called down on them somehow. And I don't think he thinks he did either?
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Jan 27, 2021 05:49
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BrotherJayne posted:... Dick didn't cause Don's death, unless he got the at th called down on them somehow. And I don't think he thinks he did either? It was an accident, but he did cause it. Dick was lighting up when Don told him he pissed himself, started wiping his pants and dropped the lighter onto the gas. Don tries to kick dirt on it to put the fire out desperately while Dick runs away from the explosion.
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Jan 27, 2021 05:52
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Dick drops his lighter when he fumbles at his pants after realizing he pissed them during the attack, which lights the fuel on fire which causes the explosion that turns the original Don Draper to hamburger. Sure, the fuel leak was only there as a result of the attack, but they both would have walked away fine if it hadn't been for Dick. It was absolutely an accident of course and pure bad luck, and though I don't think Don blames himself for the death, I do think he was careful to tell Anna her husband died in an attack rather than give her the unvarnished truth and reveal the part he played in causing it.
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Jan 27, 2021 05:54
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Greg is just The Worst. I'm consistently amazed at how many little details and character moments there are in passing so early in the show that don't really carry weight until much later. This time, it's Anna noting the importance of The World in Don's tarot reading.
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Jan 27, 2021 05:58
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GoutPatrol posted:It was an accident, but he did cause it. Dick was lighting up when Don told him he pissed himself, started wiping his pants and dropped the lighter onto the gas. Don tries to kick dirt on it to put the fire out desperately while Dick runs away from the explosion. There are a thousand and one possible ignition sources for a massive fuel dump leak, and it's dumb luck it wasn't set off by the initial bombardment. And yeah, Greg loving sucks. Edit: eh I'm likely just being pedantic. Regardless, I don't think Dick feels (or should feel) guilt over the mechanics of Don getting chunky salsa'd BrotherJayne fucked around with this message at 06:07 on Jan 27, 2021 |
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Jan 27, 2021 06:01
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The scene with the ocean has gotta be symbolism of a baptism too, right? This episode had Christian rituals as a major point, and Don is at a major decision point in his life.
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Jan 27, 2021 06:22
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Pete throwing the dinner out the window is Peak Pete. It's not the worst thing he ever does on the show, but it is the most quintessential Pete tantrum. I would never even think to throw the dinner out the window in a fight. It wouldn't even occur to me. He truly raises tantrums to an art form. And I LOVE the way Vincent Kartheiser kind of puffs out his chest afterwards, like Pete is trying to convey that he has just completed a dominance display.  I love Anna, and I'm so glad she's on the show. Focusing on high society WASPs and Madison Avenue ad execs, this show features a lot of cynical and selfish behavior, and it really helps give the show credibility that they show that nice people exist. They really do! Compassion and warmth are a way of life for Anna. Dramas are driven by conflict, so they usually feature people who aren't good to each other, but for a show that is so much about human nature and life itself, I think it was important to recognize that some people are really loving and supportive, really consistently. That said... I think she makes a mistake in the Christmas scene. It's understandable that she wants Dick to be happy, and she wants things to work out with his soon-to-be fiance. But she kind of told him that he couldn't realistically tell Betty the truth about his past. I think the best thing for her to do as his friend would have been to help him figure out how he was going to break the news to her that he had a troubling secret in his past that made his life situation more precarious. He might have lost Betty if he did that, but he had no moral right to rope her into a marriage with someone who could be arrested and ruined at any time. And as the years go by, it will just get harder and harder to tell her, as that will mean that he has been lying to her for longer and longer. One small but interesting detail: Betty broke a chair in A Night to Remember when she was coming to grips with the fact that Don had been unfaithful to her for years, and in the tarot scene, Don fixes a chair for Anna. I think this symbolically implies that Anna's place is a space where he can work on his emotions and his character better than usual. A place where he tries to set things right. Matt Weiner intended Don to be a guy who does a lot of bad things but that the audience can still sympathize with. Not everyone who watches and enjoys this show finds Don to be sympathetic, but I think most fans do. The sequence with Anna is so important because we can tell that he wishes he were a better man. But, you know... clearly right now he is very far from possessing even an average level of moral decency. I think Don dipping below the waves is a kind of baptismal scene. He is seeking some kind of renewal or resurrection after "ruining everything." Don is not a religious or spiritual man, but the ocean has a spiritual power that can speak even to philosophical materialists. It is something that is beautiful, mysterious, and immensely large and powerful. Even the biggest (and perhaps most narcissistic) hotshot creative director on Madison Avenue is humbled by it. Betty's phone call with Sarah Beth floored me the first time I saw this episode. But maybe it shouldn't have been so surprising. It's similar to her shooting at her neighbor's pigeons at the end of Shoot: an impulsive and self-destructive act motivated by rage. I do think she's mad at Sarah Beth for not appreciating her husband who treats her far better than Don treats Betty, but I also think she's mad at Don for not appreciating her own fidelity. The way that she was trembling after Arthur's attempt at seducing her--she felt desire, and she overcame it. But Don has not reciprocated. Don doesn't appreciate that she's been faithful to him even while he's been cheating on her, so she instead takes spiteful satisfaction at her perceived moral superiority to Don and to Sarah Beth.
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Jan 27, 2021 07:18
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Peggy's power levels are through the roof at this point. The tournament arc in season 3 is shaping up to be a real doozy
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Jan 27, 2021 07:28
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I really love Peggy asking for the office right after her greatest success yet. When Freddy got fired, Pete said she could end up with his office, and she just didn't respond to that. She was saying other things to him about how he stabbed Freddy in the back, and she just ignored the part about how she could have his office. She wanted it. But not like that. Really makes her a character we can root for. She doesn't want it handed to her. She wants to earn it. I also like that her campaign is about love and family. I think this harkens back to the Mohawk work she does with Don. Don kind of chastised her for using the glib adage, "sex sells." And he told her, "You are the product. You, feeling something." Peggy is going through confusing and troubling times with her family and her religion, but she's still able to mine her memories and her feelings for the warmest and most loving aspects of both to harness them in an effective campaign.
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Jan 27, 2021 07:44
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Jerusalem posted:That... that could kill somebody!  Yoshi Wins posted:Pete throwing the dinner out the window is Peak Pete. It's not the worst thing he ever does on the show, but it is the most quintessential Pete tantrum. I would never even think to throw the dinner out the window in a fight. It wouldn't even occur to me. At the height of a random argument with my mom I once watched my dad throw his [full] dinner plate up against the wall before storming off into the next room. I remember my stunned ~9 year old self being like, "....why would you do that?" I have that same feeling every time I see Pete toss that chicken out the window during a re-watch... fuckin' Pete.
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Jan 27, 2021 10:54
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I feel so dumb for not picking up on the baptism symbolism at the end there, goddammit. As noted, even if Don isn't necessarily a believer in God, he certainly seems to feel the immensity of the ocean as a power well beyond him. Being "born again" is a lovely way to look at the end of this episode, given that whatever choice he makes he will be trying to make a fresh start.
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Jan 27, 2021 11:21
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oh, meditations in an emergency is next, i love that one.
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Jan 27, 2021 11:48
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yeah gonna be on  next couple days, it's an incredible episode
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Jan 27, 2021 13:16
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Meditations in an Emergency BY FRANK O'HARA Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde? Or religious as if I were French? Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous (and how the same names keep recurring on that interminable list!), but one of these days there’ll be nothing left with which to venture forth. Why should I share you? Why don’t you get rid of someone else for a change? I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love. Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too, don’t I? I’m just like a pile of leaves. However, I have never clogged myself with the praises of pastoral life, nor with nostalgia for an innocent past of perverted acts in pastures. No. One need never leave the confines of New York to get all the greenery one wishes—I can’t even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there’s a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It is more important to affirm the least sincere; the clouds get enough attention as it is and even they continue to pass. Do they know what they’re missing? Uh huh. My eyes are vague blue, like the sky, and change all the time; they are indiscriminate but fleeting, entirely specific and disloyal, so that no one trusts me. I am always looking away. Or again at something after it has given me up. It makes me restless and that makes me unhappy, but I cannot keep them still. If only I had grey, green, black, brown, yellow eyes; I would stay at home and do something. It’s not that I am curious. On the contrary, I am bored but it’s my duty to be attentive, I am needed by things as the sky must be above the earth. And lately, so great has their anxiety become, I can spare myself little sleep. Now there is only one man I love to kiss when he is unshaven. Heterosexuality! you are inexorably approaching. (How discourage her?) St. Serapion, I wrap myself in the robes of your whiteness which is like midnight in Dostoevsky. How am I to become a legend, my dear? I’ve tried love, but that hides you in the bosom of another and I am always springing forth from it like the lotus—the ecstasy of always bursting forth! (but one must not be distracted by it!) or like a hyacinth, “to keep the filth of life away,” yes, there, even in the heart, where the filth is pumped in and courses and slanders and pollutes and determines. I will my will, though I may become famous for a mysterious vacancy in that department, that greenhouse. Destroy yourself, if you don’t know! It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so. I admire you, beloved, for the trap you’ve set. It's like a final chapter no one reads because the plot is over. “Fanny Brown is run away—scampered off with a Cornet of Horse; I do love that little Minx, & hope She may be happy, tho’ She has vexed me by this Exploit a little too. —Poor silly Cecchina! or F:B: as we used to call her. —I wish She had a good Whipping and 10,000 pounds.” —Mrs. Thrale. I’ve got to get out of here. I choose a piece of shawl and my dirtiest suntans. I’ll be back, I'll re-emerge, defeated, from the valley; you don’t want me to go where you go, so I go where you don’t want me to. It’s only afternoon, there’s a lot ahead. There won’t be any mail downstairs. Turning, I spit in the lock and the knob turns.
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Jan 27, 2021 13:22
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 The first time I saw this, I figured it would be incredibly important to understanding not just the season, but the series as a whole. Someone did a full reading of Don's cards here. (warning, spoilers for the last episode of season 2, "Meditations in an Emergency." The article and the comments were made right after the end of season 2 though, so it will be safe to read for those who haven't seen the full series after Jerusalem's review of the next episode.) quote:The reading
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Jan 27, 2021 15:34
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alotta thoughts on the latest write-up (Don/Anna's relationship could take up a book) but just quickly wanted to point how loving excellent the acting was this ep. John Hamm, obviously, shifting like a chameleon between the facade of Donnie Drapes, to the man bitterly holding the remnants of it, to the eager huckster looking for love willing to create it. His face loving CHANGES. Its unearthly. You know who else did a little acting showcase? Keirnan Shipka. Don't know where they plucked the girl actress, but I've never seen a show before and since that had a child barely out of toddler age act so convincingly, and so...full of heart-rendingly sympathetic? Her being locked in the closet and crying out for her dad, playing a victim and honestly hurt. Its so weirdly well-acted, but not robotically like many a child actor. It just rings true, and ably elides the complex emotional landscape you have as a child and no parent is willing to acknowledge. Also real neat to see the further cementing of Peggy, Pitch Master. You can see her more easily falling into her pitching persona, not as aggressive or in control as Don's, by necessity, but a warm yet complete certainty in what she is saying. Real fun.
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Jan 27, 2021 16:22
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Shageletic posted:You know who else did a little acting showcase? Keirnan Shipka. Don't know where they plucked the girl actress, but I've never seen a show before and since that had a child barely out of toddler age act so convincingly, and so...full of heart-rendingly sympathetic? She consumed the souls of the actors who played Bobby. It's the only explanation.
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Jan 27, 2021 16:33
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What does everyone think of how firmly Pete rejects adoption in this episode when in The Inheritance he appeared to be softening on the idea a bit? He drunkenly rambles to Peggy in The Inheritance that the fact that "it's not yours" could be a good thing. He never seems keen on it, but it seems like he's starting to at least consider it a bit. But then in this episode he's so violently opposed to Trudy making them an appointment that he maybe possibly killed a Manhattan pedestrian. Was it all to do with resenting Trudy for trying to force the issue? Did his mother's rhetoric about "pulling from the discards" hit him? Or maybe he finally realized how deeply he was opposed to it when it started to look like it might become a reality?
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Jan 27, 2021 19:21
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Yoshi Wins posted:I really love Peggy asking for the office right after her greatest success yet. When Freddy got fired, Pete said she could end up with his office, and she just didn't respond to that. She was saying other things to him about how he stabbed Freddy in the back, and she just ignored the part about how she could have his office. She wanted it. But not like that. Really makes her a character we can root for. She doesn't want it handed to her. She wants to earn it. I think I love every scene with Peggy and Roger. They are small but they usually when she has her best moments.
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Jan 27, 2021 20:07
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 18:58 |
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Yoshi Wins posted:What does everyone think of how firmly Pete rejects adoption in this episode when in The Inheritance he appeared to be softening on the idea a bit? He drunkenly rambles to Peggy in The Inheritance that the fact that "it's not yours" could be a good thing. He never seems keen on it, but it seems like he's starting to at least consider it a bit. But then in this episode he's so violently opposed to Trudy making them an appointment that he maybe possibly killed a Manhattan pedestrian. Because Trudy made the decision. Rationally, and Pete's a pretty smart guy, its not a bad idea. But his future being decided without his supposed say so got him freaking out emotionally tp regain control. Probavly because he subconsciously feels like he doesnt control his life. Don's in the wind, and Pete's stuck in the nest.
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Jan 27, 2021 20:29
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