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Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?

aBagorn posted:

Happy national Chip and Dip day, Pete!





...a thing like that


I'll have to get that recipe from you.... :geno:

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Devorum
Jul 30, 2005

Watching a bit ahead of the thread (S3E11), and I just got to Gypsy and The Hobo. Fantastic episode. I'd forgotten just how wonderful the scene where Betty confronts Don is, all with the added tension of his mistress stuck out in the car not knowing what's happening.

I'm honestly shocked Don told her the whole truth.


Oh, and Don's quiet "I was very poor" when Betty says he doesn't understand money hits hard.

Devorum fucked around with this message at 07:02 on Mar 24, 2021

Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?



Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?

Season 3, Episode 7 - Seven Twenty Three
Written by Andre & Maria Jacquemetton and Matthew Weiner, Directed by Daisy Von Scherler Mayer

Herman "Duck" Phillips posted:

You're not going anywhere where you are.

Peggy Olson lies sleeping in bed, but she's not alone. In a far larger and more exquisitely decorated room than she could certainly afford, she's lying in a large double bed next to an unknown man. Betty Draper lies awake and ill-at-ease on a fainting couch, seemingly trying to relax. Don Draper is passed out on the floor of a seedy motel room, beers and liquor bottles open and spread around. He slowed regains consciousness and sits up, his face bloody and his neck sore.

These three seemingly unconnected events appear to be a flash-forward of some sort, because Don goes from rubbing his sore neck to suddenly - face unscarred - doing up his collar in his own bedroom one more, preparing for work. He shines his shoes, checks his hair and descends the stairs adjusting his cuff-links when he hears Betty's voice summoning him.

In the living room, Betty and an older woman are waiting. This is the interior decorator that Betty hired some time ago, and they've completed the rearrangement of the room and now Betty wants to know how he feels about it. The decorator "jokes" that it'll take him time to get used to because men don't like change, while Don indulges in the stereotype by noting it'll be hard for him to judge whether he likes the renovation without knowing what it all cost. Betty, who of course came from money, clearly thinks its gauche of him to be concerned about the cost of things.

The decorator shows off her changes, a modern Chinoiserie breakfront, a Dunbar sofa that is "Japanese-influenced", silk Dupioni drapes, Murano vases and a classic Drexel end table. Don follows along in her wake, unmoved by the redesign but also not opposed to it: this is Betty's thing and he's had no issue with her doing it (beyond grumbling about the cost) but he also clearly doesn't particularly care about it either.

Betty does have one concern though, there's nothing in front of the hearth? The decorator is confused, why would there be? The hearth is the "soul of the home" where people gather even if there isn't a fire, for her the area needs to remain clear. Betty takes that onboard and then asks Don for his thoughts, and he offers a non-committal "it's fine" that doesn't satisfy her. Without quite making the next step into figuring out why he might not like doing it at home, she points out that all he does at work all day is "evaluate objects" so she'd like the benefit of that expertise.

A little put out but not enough to make a fight of it, he does just as she says and casts an actual critical eye over the layout. His solution is short and to the point: move the end table and the lamp to the other side of the couch. That's it. With that he gives Betty a kiss goodbye and leaves for the work. Betty considers the suggestion, while the decorator is floored as she imagines the new setup and comes to a rather inevitable conclusion that does surprise her: he's right!



Don and Roger ride the elevator to the 23rd floor of Sterling Cooper, making small talk. Roger isn't in the best mood, he couldn't sleep and ended up watching an "average" sunrise. The source of his irritation isn't Don but Ogilvy, who has written a book that the publishers want Roger (among many others for certain) to supply a quote for. The book is Confessions of an Advertising Man, though Roger sneers it would be better titled,"1000 Reasons I'm So Great", complaining that it is only going to add to the despised reputation advertising men face, arguing that it's also exactly the same book every single other advertising executive has ever tried to write (remember his comment in season 1 that Ken was one of the few to actually FINISH writing something?) but Ogilvy just managed to get it published.

It's not even self-published! He could at least scoff at a vanity-publishing job there, but no an actual publisher is sending the book out! He tells Don he'll send over his copy so that at least Ogilvy doesn't get the extra sale (spoiler alert: it didn't hurt Ogilvy at all, over a million copies have been sold since it was published). They part ways to go to their offices, Don amused by Roger's disdain, Roger still irritated, but the old interplay/banter between the two seemingly re-established after the strain their relationship has faced ever since he divorced Mona.

Also it's fun to consider just what is Roger's problem with Ogilvy. The most likely/basic answer is that he's jealous. He's probably mused with the idea of a book along the same lines, and now somebody else has gone and done it and he's pissed that somebody did what he failed (or was too lazy, or busy, or a million other excuses) to do. Not pissed at himself (consciously at least), but pissed at Ogilvy for the "insult" of "stealing" his dream/fantasy.

Now it is Don's turn to get irritated though, as he finds Pete, Harry, Paul and Sal all bundled up around Allison's desk. They eagerly ask him when he'd like to reschedule their meeting and he is confused, he's 15 minutes late that is no reason to reschedule a meeting. He complains to Allison, ignoring her attempting to tell him something, that he'd told her that whenever he is late for a meeting to send the others away and he'll call them when HE arrives (the benefit of being Creative Director and Partner).

But finally she manages to say what she wanted to say, and reveal the reason why these guys won't gently caress off: Conrad Hilton is in Don's office. He's shocked, and she explains he just showed up and walked right in, though she was at least able to bring him coffee while he waited. Checking his watch and adjusting his hair, he tells the others to come back in 20 minutes and Paul eagerly tells him to take an hour if he wants, Harry snapping at him that the entire point of coming back in 20 minutes is so that Don looks like a busy man. Don waves them off, not wanting them hovering, then braces himself and goes in to see what was at the time one of the world's few billionaires, and owner of the world's first international hotel chain.

What he finds is a man who does NOT come as a supplicant to ANYBODY. Connie is seated behind Don's desk, and though Don stands over him he doesn't make the slightest move to vacate the position to its owner and move around to the other side of the desk. Is it a power-play, a little bit of revenge for making him wait? Or is Connie so rich and powerful that he simply isn't capable of comprehending that he would ever be anything other than the guy in the most important position in the room.

He makes a "joke" about 9:30 being practically lunchtime, a far from subtle rebuke towards Don for not arriving until now even if he himself showed up within appointment. It's not enough that Don has to take a seat on the other side of his own desk, he now finds himself being criticized and lectured to: Connie wasn't happy to find no bible in the office, nor any family photos, complaining that he'll need both to make him feel better about the things he does. He even goes so far as to tell Don to start showing up to work on time, and Don can't resist cracking a testy joke about being late because he was reading the bible to his family.

Connie doesn't like that, taking a moment before asking if Don is nervous, because for the first time in their limited encounters he is finding it hard to talk to him. Don reacts with exactly the right balance of anger and humor though, pointing out that Connie KNOWS that he took him by surprise coming here and offering a little smirk to let him know that he's not mad about it. Connie can't help but smile back and then outright laugh, this is the Don Draper he found so engaging at the Country Club and at the Waldorf-Astoria, the guy who stands his ground at the right moment and always seems to know exactly what to say.

Now that they're on more even ground, Connie gets to the point of why he is here, claiming (perhaps naively, perhaps knowingly) that as a married man Don will have to use his imagination: Connie has an "involvement" that has been meeting his needs, but those needs are significant and recently his eye has started to wander. So now he wants Don's advice, who seems surprised, pointing out he probably has a coterie of trusting advisors, Kings etc who can advise him far better. Connie grins again, but it at least appears to be that he's still having fun with Don. Because it seems that he's actually talking about the advertising for his vast business empire, and the person who has caught his wandering eye is Don, who is going to put in charge of handling advertising for the Waldorf-Astoria, New York Hilton and Statler Hilton.

As he puts it, this is "just" New York, but his eye has started to wander: in other words, he's giving Don a chance to prove why he (and Sterling Cooper, I guess) should get more of an enormously large pie. Don's eyes had widened every so slightly when Connie listed those hotels, but he manages to maintain his cool otherwise, slowly nodding and agreeing that this is a good start, trying not to betray the fact that he's just been gifted with the type of opportunity any ad man (yes even David Ogilvy!) would kill for. Connie is satisfied too, lawyers will handle all the financial details, but Connie wants the personal touch of just the two of them to remain how all the other dealings are handled.

Don is more than happy with that arrangement, and opens the door and escorts Connie out. Every eye in the office is on them as they go, Pete, Harry and Paul making no attempt to hide the fact that they've been standing outside Pete's office just waiting to see him. They all smile like idiots as he passes, Connie warning Don that having him in his life is going to change things, and when Don says he is looking forward to it Connie gives a further warning: everybody says that at first. Still, he likes that there are young people in the office, noting that they help give "us" (does Don want to lumped in as an old guy?) energy.

They shake hands, Connie admitting that while it is only small to start with (The Waldorf-Astoria!) he is looking forward to sharing his dreams with him. With that he's gone, and Don turns around to a floor staring at him in awe, literally bursting into applause for him. It's an understandable reaction, their Creative Director has just done a deal with one of the richest men on the planet, and that can only mean good things for all of them.



Betty hosts a small "executive" meeting of The Junior League with Francine and two other women in her newly redecorated home. The other women are astounded that she managed to redecorate AND have a baby, and she laughs that the two certainly weren't meant to be simultaneous. The reason for the meeting is that Francine's time as Secretary is coming to a close and Betty has shown an interest in replacing her, and they want to confirm she's still willing.

She is, which they're pleased to hear because they've been holding back on a major matter since it would make no sense for Francine to start it but not be able to finish it. A proposed 3-million-gallon water tank is going to drain the Pleasantville Road Reservoir which in turn will have a financial impact AND blemish the natural beauty of the community. They talk very sincerely about it, and they have a good point about the environmental cost (though they see it more in terms of lovely scenery as opposed to environmental health), but what it largely boils down to is that they're pissed off that an industrial park on Route 9 is going to use up THEIR water.

The Village Board of course has approved the tank, and the Junior League wants to go over their head and take it straight to the Governor of New York's office, arguing that the Rockefellers own a lot of the land in Ossining so should have a vested interest in keeping it pristine. Francine claims that real estate being involved is "scary", which is probably more true than she knows since development of land can be such a gigantic cash cow and that's probably the intended purpose of this tank, allowing for the development of the "useless" land on either side of the river.

Betty, the new Secretary, has been largely quiet through this but now she speaks up, noting with half-surprise that she might actually know somebody at the Governor's Office she could go directly to. They perk up at this, very interested, who? She struggles to think of his name, at first only remembering Henry, but finally remembers his last name was Francis. What's interesting is that she doesn't just remember him from their chance encounter at the Country Club when he put his hand on her belly... she's noticed him since then appearing in the newspaper behind "Rocky".

One of the women hunts through a list of people in the Governor's office as Betty explains to Francine she met him at a "party for Don's work", and finds him. She's intrigued, he is only listed as an advisor, which indicates to them he has some deeper role or closeness to Rockefeller than a more specific job title might suggest. The older woman smiles with great satisfaction though, finally remembering herself who Henry Francis is: the former Republican Party chair for Westchester County.

Since the older woman knows him, they think she should be the one to call, but still looking satisfied she says that they'll have more luck if Betty does it. Betty frowns at that but Francine jokes that is isn't adorable for her to pretend that she isn't adorable, which gets a chuckle from the rest of them. They hand her Henry's number, telling her it is now on her as Secretary to make the call... and add on that he's a big deal, which just further puts the pressure on her.

At Sterling Cooper, the 9:15am meeting is FINALLY taking place a good hour after it was supposed to. They're discussing Jai Alai, Don saying they need to focus in on Miami to start and then let things grow from there. Pete points out that "Ho-Ho" wants Jai Alai over all of the United States, he even just bought land in Seattle for that purpose, and all of them but Don have a chuckle after saying they'll be happy to indulge him as long as he keeps writing checks.

Don disagrees though, and not for any moral reasons. He made his efforts to convince Horace Cook not to blow everything he had and Ho-Ho still charged in all guns blazing. Hell, he even got the go-ahead from his father to fleece him for everything, and so Don is now committed to taking all his money... but not all at once, because that's short term thinking. As he puts it to the other: why kill Jai Alai in one blow when they could "shear the sheep every year"?

Of course they all agree with him, on any given day they'd want to be on Don's good side but on this day in particular that is true. Pete is the first to bring it up, admitting that it is clear that Don doesn't want to talk about the details of the meeting but can he at least tell them how he knows Conrad Hilton in the first place? Don affects confusion that they could be interested, grunting that they ran into each other at a party which is technically true (the same party where he warned Pete not to got client hunting), but as he calls the meeting to a close he can't help but smile: he's loving the worshipful gaze he's getting from everybody.

They all leave except for Pete, who takes the opportunity to claim (not ask) that he would love to be the "legs" on the Account work for Hilton even if Roger will obviously be the face of it. Don quite rightly makes the point that Pete is supposed to be the one who brings in the Accounts, and good enough ones that Don would be the one begging to work on it. Which raises another point, what is going on with North American Aviation, which IS a big Account that Pete genuinely landed purely through his own hard work out in California (while Don was hanging with the Jet Set).

That's good news at least, because for some reason here seems to be a lot of work going for producing helicopters, carbines and jets for Vietnam... yes, the war is going to be great for business! Pete has been pushing for them to spend more on their advertising to make the shift out of NASA and into the Pentagon to take advantage of this demand. Don considers that and agrees that once North American agrees to spend this extra money... THEN he and Pete can talk about his place on the Hilton Account. That satisfies Pete, now he knows where he stands and that's really all he ever wants (well that and for everybody to think he's great and better than them).

Alone now, Betty makes the call to Henry Francis' office but he's busy, which she understands. She leaves her name and number with a request for him to call back, then gets back into the domestic side of her life, calling in the kids for lunch. Bobby zooms straight to the table but Sally reminds him to wash his hands first. As he moves to the sink and the two start wrestling for position, the phone rings and Betty is surprised to find Henry has already called her back. Harshly whispering at the kids to stop loving about, she asks Henry to hold for a moment while she gets on the extension, and tells Bobby to hang up the phone for her.

So he does, of course, just walking right over and hanging up the phone before she can make it into the study!

She storms back into the kitchen, snapping at him and demanding to know what is wrong. Bobby of course is bewildered... she said to hang up the phone! Sally wisely doesn't get involved, just sits and munches on her lunch, and when the phone rings again Bobby tries to rush to answer it until Betty tells him to freeze. She heads back into the study to answer the phone, and one can imagine Bobby standing there frozen unsure if he can move again until Sally tells him to stop being a moron and eat his lunch.



Putting aside Pete and Bobby being two bewildered little boys chastised by an authority figure, I just wanna say how much I love that whenever we see Bobby he's just constantly got dirt stains all over his clothes. You know that it probably kills Betty that he can't seem to go more than a few minutes without getting filthy. Especially contrasted with Sally who is wearing all white and doesn't have a spot on her.

On the other end of the line, Henry says they were disconnected and she offers back an apology and,"My son" which really says everything, anybody could immediately fill in the gaps. He notes that she must have had the baby by now and she is flattered and pleased that he remembered, saying they had a little boy. He jokingly asks if they can get little Gene registered to vote by November, but that line and his assurance that mostly he does the calling nowadays after she apologizes for being yet another person asking for something tell a story: Rockefeller's Presidential ambitions really did take a hit from his marriage to Margaretta Murphy.

In any case, she explains the purpose of her call: The Tarrytown Junior League want to stop the destruction of the Pleasantville Road Reservoir. When Henry says he knows the area she assumes it is because of the Rockefeller connection, but he explains he grew up in the area as well. He mentions he will be Upstate tomorrow and could arrange to come by to take a look at the Reservoir, and she hesitates, pointing out that tomorrow is Saturday.

He admits that he basically works 7 days a week and forgets that others don't, but nervous considering this is her first official act as Secretary as well as not wanting to turn down an Advisor to the Governor of New York, she promises that she'll find a way to make time to meet him. They agree to meet at Swenson's Bakery at 3pm for a coffee and then a hike to the reservoir, and she ends the call pleased to have made progress even if she does feel slightly concerned about meeting a man who is NOT her husband on a Saturday afternoon, especially one who made such an intimate gesture by touching her pregnant belly on their first meeting.

Perhaps those thoughts/suggestions of infidelity are what cause her to almost unconsciously reach down and try the drawer on Don's desk. It is locked, of course, and she gives it a couple of irritated tugs before moving on. For all that their married dynamic has changed to be (somewhat) more equal since season 1, this study is still HIS sanctuary, and he still keeps things hidden away from her even after she took him back following their separation.

Peggy has a package in her office, and as she opens it Pete walks into the room to spoil her on the reveal: it's from "him" and it is expensive. He closes the door as Peggy complains she is going to fire Olive (Pete just walked on in without any warning), while Pete demands to know what she promised "him". The "him" in question is Duck Phillips, who has sent them both expensive gifts in his continuing bid to poach them: a Hermès scarf for her, Cuban cigars for Pete.

Pete is paranoid of course, he can only assume that Duck has an ulterior motive (okay maybe that's not so paranoid) while Peggy thinks it might be exactly what it appears on the surface, after all the both of them are important contributors to the success of Sterling Cooper. Pete doesn't see it that way, he likes knowing where he stands with Don but he simultaneously hates where he stands with Don, and gets more paranoid as the horrible idea that Peggy has been put on Hilton suddenly occurs to him.

Despite all the buzz in the office around the Hilton Account though she's entirely unaware of it, and tells him to stop barging into her office and "infecting me with your anxiety". It takes her a moment to grasp the significance of the word Hilton, belatedly asking after enjoying the feel of the scarf when they got that Account? She's shocked to learn Conrad Hilton was right there in the next door office this morning, Pete claiming he was skinny "like a cowboy" (because Pete is built like a linebacker, of course). He admits that while Hilton won't be as big an Account for them as Lucky Strike, it comes with decided advantages like not having to hide from the Federal Trade Commission because of that whole, you know, cancer thing.

This scene does a wonderful job of contrasting the different values/perceptions that both Pete and Peggy have. Their own fractured and dangerous history is a great backdrop, their shared secret of Duck's poaching attempts draws them close even if they both have plenty of reasons to dislike the other, but it is the differing takes on things that really make them fascinating. Peggy doesn't gossip or get included in the in-groups and frequently gets confused as to why and how so much business seems to be done through those channels. Pete mistakes these inside scoops for a replacement for doing the legwork. Peggy doesn't see (or want to see) the ulterior motives that Duck might have in trying to poach them, Pete was completely unaware that Conrad Hilton - whose Account he wants to work on - is a devout Catholic who wrote an autobiography about how he rose up from nothing, nearly lost everything and then rose up to great success again (The American Dream!).

But while Duck has inadvertently brought them closer together in spite of themselves, Peggy reminds him that they're NOT tied together and he doesn't have to worry about her pulling him into anything. She's not planning on leaving Sterling Cooper and he can do whatever he likes and it doesn't matter to her. Pete makes sure she's fully aware of some important things she may be overlooking though, more out of self-interest to be sure but still useful nonetheless. The reason Duck isn't at Sterling Cooper anymore despite being promised the Presidency is because Don squeezed him out in a power-play when the British took over.

Peggy may think that was the end of it, and that Don has since forgotten Duck even exists (he most likely has), Pete knows that Duck won't have moved on even if he did land on his feet. The best way to hurt Don is to poach a couple he thinks are valuable to Sterling Cooper, but if he can't poach them maybe he'll let it slip (or somebody will put two and two together) and make Don worry about their loyalty. Then maybe THEY (but really Pete, that's his concern) end up the collateral damage in a pissing match between two rich assholes who don't like each other. So she should send the scarf back no matter how much she likes it, and make it as clear as possible to Duck in no uncertain terms that she isn't leaving and he needs to stop trying.

He leaves, and Peggy is left to ponder the wisdom of his paranoid but not wholly inaccurate words: the gift is nice, the attention is flattering, just having the possibility of a new job waiting is a lovely thing to sit in your back pocket... but is it going to end up doing more harm than good?

Don meanwhile is summoned to a far happier meeting. Cooper has him come to his office where Lane and Roger are also waiting, utterly delighted to have discovered their Creative Director has only gone out and landed Conrad Hilton as a Client. He jokes that he didn't tell them because he thought the deal would be done over the phone and he could wait to see if somebody else tried to take credit for it. They all laugh at that, because today anything Don says is going to be lapped up.... he landed Conrad Hilton!

Lane pours him a drink, letting him know that London are absolutely thrilled: it is true that "only" the New York hotels represent a fairly "modest" amount of possible billings, but the foot in the door means there is the gigantic potential for growth if they can service more and more hotels in his worldwide chain, and that has them salivating. Don can't help but put in a little backhanded snipe there, noting,"Finally" which echoes back to the Madison Square Garden debacle. Lane has to laugh at this too, both because as mentions today is Don's day, but also because after his own recent experience he's no longer quite so quick to support/defend PPL's proclamations from on high.

Roger is pleased too, and the question he asks next is a perfectly valid one that echoes Pete's own from earlier: just how did Don make this happen? Don's answer is pregnant with meaning, he pauses for just a second before saying that they travel in the same circles. It's an important line, because Don is very specifically and deliberately not explaining that the chance encounter only happened because he attended Roger's party at the Country Club. Even though Roger had no other involvement beyond this, you can bet he would leap on this as a chance to claim credit, or to rub Don's face in the fact that he "owes" him or that somehow all this means he was in the right to divorce his wife, marry a 20-year-old secretary and have her spy on Don for him.

However this meeting isn't ENTIRELY about celebrating Don. It is also a minor ambush of sorts. Because the lawyers have been in touch, and the contract needs to be settled. Don doesn't get it at first, the details of contracts aren't something he concerns himself with so he just shrugs and offers that he agreed to the New York Hotels but they should set the rest of the terms. Cooper enlightens him, the problem isn't the contract the Hilton lawyers are offering, the problem is DON'S contract.... or lack thereof.

Yes, even after PPL took over and settled the Don/Duck rivalry, Don remained working without a contract. It's been a status quo they were content to let sit given the great work Don was producing, but now a big-time client like Conrad Hilton is involved and both sides want to secure the principals. Connie is giving Sterling Cooper this work because of Don Draper, and if Don was to suddenly leave the lawyers don't want to be stuck with his former Agency.

Don is of course not happy, reminding them that he gave Connie his word and this should be enough. Lane agrees it will be enough for Conrad Hilton himself... but not for his lawyers. Reaching into his pocket, he removes a contract... all of this has been prepared, Don walked in expecting pats on the back of drinks and he got them, but now he's also got this... thing, this leash that he so expertly avoided for so long, presented to him for him to accept, to submit and tie himself down in a way he has taken great pride in avoiding until now.

He takes the contract and casts a sullen look over the details as Lane runs through the basic elements of it: 3 years commitment and a non-compete clause, but a healthy raise included AND a signing bonus as well. Normally this would be something to celebrate, normally Lane would be eagerly running through each of these things as a further encouragement to sign, but even he knows that Don won't be happy about this. He admits he'd be filled with glee if he was handed a contract like this, and that he is confused by Don's clear reluctance.

Don tries to argue his case, he knows Connie a little bit now and he suspects that he'll enjoy something he can't have more than something he has. More importantly, somebody needs to tell him that not having a contract matters to Don, and when Lane quietly reminds him that having a contract matters to Connie, Don complains that he doesn't think anybody has actually explained to Connie how much it matters to Don the other way.

This is effectively a controlled temper tantrum, and is greeted by silence because nobody wants to be the one to tell Don what he already knows: that what matters to him places a distant second to Conrad Hilton's concerns. Instead, Cooper takes a moment and then lays it out in simple terms: this is the way it has to be, not just for Conrad Hilton but for Sterling Cooper itself. Cooper does at least offer him the weekend to consider the contract, but it is clear he believes this to be a fait accompli, a fact that clearly irks Don all the more as all his agency is taken away on what should be one of the great triumphs of his business life.

He reluctantly tucks the contract into his inner pocket, and Cooper leans back with a smile as if this is all sorted out and behind them now. He muses that he meet Connie once and found him to be a bit of an eccentric. The fact it is Bertram Cooper of all people saying this is a hoot, and Roger and Lane both smile at the statement. Don manages to force one too and agree that Connie is, but his heart isn't in it. That contract is burning a hole in his pocket, a weight dragging him down after having his head in the clouds all day.



Once more the show flashes forward. Don is staggering up from the motel room floor, peering at himself in the mirror and taking in a sorry sight. His nose his cut, his face is bloody, and he feels worse than he looks. Betty Draper is still on the fainting couch, and her hands slide languidly down her body, past her crotch and onto her upper thighs. The fainting couch was allegedly (it seems to be a mostly bullshit story) a common piece of furniture in the Victorian era where women would faint due to the tightness of their corsets. It was also, however, the place where women would be treated for "hysteria", a condition which would later turn out to just be that women were incredibly loving sexually frustrated because... well, weakly waves at everything, and their treatment mostly consisted of giving them a goddamn orgasm for once in their lives. In that respect, Betty not truly getting comfortable until she takes some time to enjoy herself seems appropriate.

Or maybe she's just having a pleasant memory of what we see next? Jumping back from the flash-forward, we see Betty's arrival at Swenson's Bakery where Henry Francis is already waiting for her. They shake hands and he offers a quasi-apology for coming alone, aware of the fact she is a married woman coming to meet a man who is NOT her husband. She waves it off, noting her friend couldn't make it either (Francine? Or did she just make that up on the spot to pretend she didn't intentionally come alone and secretly thrills to the idea of being alone with him again?).

They start to discuss what has and hasn't changed in the area but get distracted by the waitress taking their order. Betty admits that Ossining wasn't her first choice after Manhattan but the place has grown on her. There's another connection between them, Henry lived in Manhattan when he was married (another reminder that he is single) but he only found it suitable for work, not for living.

They get somewhat down to business, Betty giving him a folder of the Junior League's literature on the reservoir and the proposed water tank, as well as their petition against the latter. She doesn't feel comfortable being a spokesman for the League, more a facilitator of the right information to (hopefully) the right people. He agrees the reservoir is beautiful, remembering diving into it when he was younger, and enjoys her lighthearted reprimand and reminder that they drink that water. Unfortunately, as beautiful as it is, he looked into the project and it is already well under way.

Betty is disappointed, not in him but in the fact the Junior League's protest has come too late (and maybe she blames herself for that, they waited on her confirmation as Secretary before proceeding) but he offers a ray of light... maybe somebody with clout could still save the day. That's him, of course, and she admits that she doesn't actually know what it is he does beyond being an "advisor". It's standard stuff to him though, he's a strategy, fundraiser and maybe campaign manager (again, the tacit admission of Rockefeller's damaged Presidential hopes), though he admits that his training as a lawyer doesn't actually come into play all that much in his role.

She likes him admitting that rather than bigging himself up, pointing out that everybody has skills they don't use: she was an anthropology major at Bryn Mawr, and she certainly doesn't use any of those skills in her day-to-day life. The waitress returns and Henry asks if she minds if he orders something to eat. THAT is a little much for Betty who is worried this is looking more like a date than a meeting, but when he goes ahead and orders anyway she seems impressed by both his take-charge attitude and his lack of concern over propriety. She capitulates somewhat, suggesting he get both ice cream AND cheese to accompany his apple pie.

However after his talk about clout and her perhaps saving her community, he adds a disclaimer: he can't guarantee he'll actually be able to do anything to save the reservoir. She is a little disappointed to hear that, but then he flips things around again by smirking and telling her not to give up so easily. He's wowing her, basically, talking her up, talking himself up, playing things down and then perking her up again. Whatever he's doing, it's working, she sips her ice-tea from a straw looking almost girlish, enjoying the company and the attention of this handsome, charismatic and somewhat powerful man.

While Betty is taking a late lunch with Henry, Don is doing dad stuff on his weekend. He's joined the other dads and their kids for a school holiday activity where Miss Farrell is showing them how to make "sunscopes", crude camera obscuras made out of cardboard boxes with which to view the upcoming eclipse. She's brought extra materials for the kids whose dads forgot stuff (like Don, who Sally points out didn't bring scissors), and she gives them 22 minutes to complete their sunscopes, telling them to only get help from their dads if they need it.

Carlton cuts holes in Ernie's cardboard box while Sally and Bobby are independent, Don watching Carlton work and listening to him bitch about missing out on golf for the clearly unimportant and irrelevant cause of spending quality time with his son and enjoying a once-in-a-decade moment together. Don actually offers a fairly unselfish turn by saying Carlton is free to go if he wants and he'll drive Ernie home for him.

The reason for Carlton's laugh and then quick ignoring of this becomes obvious as he starts staring at Miss Farrell, musing about how Francine used to teach school when they were first married and he always got a kick out of seeing her tower over the kids. Don notes that Sally has a "crush" on her, while Carlton gives Ernie the now half-prepared box and ponders why he can't look at an eclipse? After all, he stares at the sun every day!

"You stare at the sun every day?" Don asks, startled and amused, and it would certainly explain a lot about Carlton. But no, he corrects himself that he kind of looks in its general direction sometimes. But it's not the only dangerous thing he can't take his eyes off of, looking straight back at Miss Farrell and pointing out he sees her sometimes when he's out on his morning run. Don is probably unsurprised to know Carlton is looking, but he is surprised to hear he runs. Does he talk to her when he sees her? No, Carlton who had no problem with cheating on his wife or ogling the teenage babysitter believes in a certain etiquette when it comes to running: you keep to yourself. That's part of what he likes about it, a chance to be alone, which is a rare thing.

Don can't really appreciate the sentiment, after all... he seems to feel alone all the time no matter what happy thing his life is filled with.

Henry pays the bill at Swenson's and then apologizes that he'll have to leave without the promised hike to the reservoir. He explains he has to attend a dinner in Albany and references His Master's Voice. When Betty fails to react to the little self-deprecating joke, he does what always makes a joke funnier... he explains it! For the first time she seems a little put off by him, shaking her head slightly and pointing out that she - married to Don Draper: Ad Man! - knows what His Master's Voice is.

They leave Swenson's together, spotting the waitress and an old man looking at a "contraption" which the waitress explains he made so he could view the eclipse. Betty acts without thinking, looking straight up into the sun like her name was Carlton Hanson. Henry also reacts without thinking, shielding her face from the sun, the edge of his palm just lightly brushing her forehead, another surprisingly intimate moment akin to him touching her pregnant belly.

Slowly he lowers it and asks if she is okay, and she admits she feels a little dizzy (not from the sun, from his proximity). They walk away, for the first time Betty grasping that he never had time to go on this hike HE suggested in the first place. He admits he only ever had an hour to spare, but cuts himself up from explaining what he figured he could get out of the day anyway (seeing her) when he spots a fainting couch in the front window of Wentworth's. Yes it's the very one from the flash-forwards, and Henry explains the belief that it was used by "overwhelmed" by Victorian ladies to lie down when they needed rest.

He offers to walk Betty to her car and she casts her eyes back and forth quickly, admitting uneasily that Ossining is still a small town, and he immediately grasps her meaning. They shake hands and he promises to contact her as soon as he knows anything he can or can't do regarding the reservoir. With that he leaves, and Betty is left to ponder the fainting couch.

Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?

The sunscopes are done and the kids are all wearing them and the other dads holding them up to watch the passage of the moon across the sun. All but Don and Miss Farrell, the latter asking if he intends to watch, pointing out that it is a once-in-a-decade thing when he says he'll look when it is "further along".

The only two people without their heads in boxes, they make polite conversation, Don asking how her summer is going and whether she will be taking vacation. She won't be, she gets August off but then she's right back into work in September. Don jokes that Ossining in August is like a ghost town, and she asks where he and the family will be going and he shrugs that they'll still be here.

Suddenly her face goes hard, a combination of being disappointed and pissed off as she grunts that now she knows that, confusing Don entirely. Shaking her head, she says that most men just come right out and ask if she is going to be around, and entirely too late Don realizes she thinks he was hitting on her. He quickly states he was just making conversation and she can change it if she wants, but she's on a roll now, complaining that they're all the same with their drinking and philandering, an accusation that infuriates Don because while it does hit close to home, and while he has clearly shown an interest in her in the past... this really was exactly what it says it was: he's a bored dad hanging out with the kids on Saturday making polite conversation with another adult. There is nobody quite so aggrieved as somebody accused of something he would normally do but hasn't done THIS time!

He steps away, upset at her speaking this so clearly near the kids, and she rolls her eyes at this, saying the kids don't know what that word means. Again, trying to keep his cool despite clearly being pissed off himself, Don reminds her that if she wants him to leave her alone all she has to do is say so. She laughs bitterly, saying it's hard because "this" happens a lot, another presumption that just pisses him off more, even though he knows his protests are exactly what she'd expect to hear in this situation (remember Carlton and Helen Bishop in season 1?), exclaiming that nothing is happening, all they're doing is talking.

She agrees, though more because she clearly doesn't see any value in arguing the point any further, which probably makes him madder since he prides himself on being both a clear communicator (a failure here) or able to convince somebody of his point of view (a failure here). He complains that in his opinion schoolteachers shouldn't judge a book by its cover, and says it isn't so impossible that maybe he's different from the others.

When she points out that they're all wearing the same shirt though, he's momentarily stunned, looking around and realizing that... well, yeah she's got a point, they're all largely wearing the same design/style even if the patterns and colors are slightly different. He can't help but laugh at that, which makes her laugh, and then paradoxically it seems like he DOES start to flirt with her a little, asking what it is like in other places. When she tells him that people have less and aren't as bored, he declares with certainty that he isn't bored.

She seems intrigued by this, whether by the obvious lie or maybe because he might just believe it to be true. But the moment is broken by Sally suddenly calling out to her "crush", she can see the eclipse happening. Miss Farrell joins her under the sunscope and Don, perhaps just to be different, puts his sunglasses on and turns to look directly at the sun, very deliberately looking in the opposite direction to every other person.



Flashing forward, Peggy Olson wakes in that big bed in that big room with that (big?) man sleeping beside her. She sits up suddenly, alarmed as she realizes where she is and remembers the night before. She casts a quick look at the back of the man sleeping on his side besides her. We still haven't seen his face, but context clues are starting to add up and it's a hell of a thing to consider... are we seeing the aftermath of Peggy Olson sleeping with, of all people, Duck Phillips!?!

Back in the present and the weekend over, Peggy puts through a call from her office to Duck Phillips, telling them that it is Peggy Olson from Clorox, using her own name and effectively rendering the Clorox cover useless. She's transferred to a meeting he is in, but he takes the call regardless, aided by the fact he seems to be in a nicely appointed hotel room rather than a stuffy office or conference room. Taking Pete's advice, she tells him she's sending the gift back and would appreciate him not sending her anymore, but with great pleasure he tells her he'd only take this seriously if she had already sent back the gift before calling.

Not used to the full power charm of a high ranking Head of Account Services (Pete, Ken and Paul's clumsy "charm" pales by comparison), she lets him intrigue her when he reveals he's been taking meetings all day at The Pierre hotel, in suite 600. Why is he taking meetings there, she asks, and sensing she has taken the bait he explains that Grey's offices are dingy and functional and not designed for entertaining clients. Which makes the fact he is inviting her to come along to return the scarf in person flattering, even if he essentially dictating terms to her on how she will return the unwanted (but really wanted) gift, acting as if she has no choice in the matter on how she ends his attempts to head-hunt her.

He sweetens the deal by telling her that Hermès will be his last meeting of the day and she can return the scarf in person then. That's a double-edged sword, it offers her the chance to embarass him by returning a Hermès product as an unwanted gift right in front of Hermès which will look bad to him... but it also puts her in the tough position of having to be the rear end in a top hat who rejects a client's expensive product. Either way, if she does it then it will certainly put an end to any doubts that she is serious about not being interested in going to Grey.

But it is also Duck dictating the terms, and Peggy finds herself laughing at his joke about Grey's office and feeling charmed and important... before she regains control of herself, tells him firmly not to contact her again (she contacted him!) and then hangs up. With that done she tries to go back to work, tries to tell herself she's satisfied and this is the end of things for good. She clearly doesn't believe it.

Roger pops into Don's office with a merry smile as Don refills his lighter, asking how his weekend was. "Short," grunts Don, knowing exactly why Roger is here and what he wants. Roger pours a drink and gets down to it: what did the lawyer think of the contract? Don says Ben Michelson hasn't called him back yet and Roger knows he hasn't... because Michelson never got the contract in the first place. He called him to ask if Don had been in touch and that was the first Michelson had apparently heard of Don Draper having a contract for him to review.

Settling down (at least Roger sits on the guest side of the desk) and taking a sip, he tells Don merrily that if he's concerned about having a Boss he's going to have to accept that he will: the client. If it isn't that, then does he think not having a contract makes him more dangerous (and thus desirable)? It's true that it does, but right now he's posing a danger to the Agency itself. They consider him their David Ogilvy (it must burn Roger that HE isn't their Ogilvy) and he needs to help the top dogs at Putnam, Powell and Lowe relax and stop worrying for 3 years about him walking out. If he does that, Roger suggests even though he has no power to do this anymore, maybe Don can get his name attached to the firm (after Roger and Cooper's, of course).

Don offers no answer, no sense of whether that appeals or not. Roger though tries to keep it light, saying they can discuss it later but he needs a letter of intent now. Don doesn't offer one though, just keeps working on refilling and cleaning his lighter. So Roger tries again, joking that he'll accept a grunt. Don doesn't even give him that, and now Roger's patience has worn thin. Placing his glass down, he complains that he can't tell if Don just doesn't want to deal with this now or simply refuses to deal with it all. Pouting, he goes to leave and finds Peggy on the other side of the door waiting with some art. "Didn't we give you an office?" he complains and makes his exit, and Don waves Peggy in when she explains she came to get him to sign off on some Martinson's coffee art for the printer but can come back later.

She passes him the art and he looks it over, but as he does she "casually" makes conversation, asking if he has decided who to put on the Hilton Account yet. Irritated, he signs the art and grunts no, which is at least more than he gave Roger. She takes the opening though to make her pitch, starting to talk about a woman's perspective when he cuts her off to complain that they're not actually landing Hilton after all and he resents her bringing work in under pretense.

Surprised, she tries to explain herself, she got excited because of the potential to be assigned, but Don cuts her off again to snap that she came by thinking she could get the gig because he never says no. "....you say no all the time," she manages to get out, but he's on a roll now, getting out all the aggression he held back from Roger just now (and to some extent to Miss Farrell over the weekend). He demands to know what more she wants from him, she was his secretary and now she has an office and a job that a lot of full-grown men would kill for. He accuses her of forever having a hand in his pocket, demanding a raise or an account when she should be putting her nose down and paying attention to her work.

It's a harsh and largely unwarranted tirade, built out of frustration about things entirely unrelated to her. But it's also an increasingly more common occurrence. He seems to be losing his temper with her more often, taking out problems HE is having on her. As a result, Peggy - who still deeply values his opinion on a professional level - is more and more viewing him with, if not contempt, at least with some level of derision. Beneath the cool surface and impeccable dress sense, he's a weak man who treats her unfairly, and it can't help but make her consider the far more friendly and encouraging Duck Phillips in a warmer light.

But in the heat of the moment all she knows is that Don has lambasted her and it's upsetting, so she controls her tears just like Joan taught her and manages to stammer out an apology. Perhaps realizing he's gone too far or deciding to throw her somewhat of a bone, Don grunts that she's good... but she has to get better, and she especially has to stop asking for things. Coming from him that is rich, but she takes it in silence and departs in shame, closing the door as directed when he tells her. That leaves him, alone in his office drinking, not feeling any sense of satisfaction from taking out his temper on her. So he sits alone, fuming about the unfairness of being offered enormous amounts of money in exchange for a commitment to do his job for at least three more years. He couldn't tear Roger a new one, so instead he took out his aggression on the talented young woman he would be grooming as a protege if he wasn't quite so self-centered.



Late in the afternoon as Sally and Bobby eat their dinner, Betty receives a phone-call at home from an unexpected and not particularly welcome source: Roger Sterling. He asks if Don is home yet and then rather than leave a message admits that it's important so maybe he can talk to her. Confused, she asks what this is about and is even more confused when he says it is about the contract. She has no idea what that means, and this isn't helped by Roger claiming it is a lot of money to leave on the table and he's rely on her - the woman behind the man - to convince Don to sign it.

She doesn't know what is going on, but one thing she does know is that Roger is making a rather obvious attempt to manipulate her to get what he wants. She tells him as much, warning him that Don will do whatever Don chooses to do, and it is disrespectful of Roger to call her behind Don's back to try and shift her to his cause. Roger quickly attempts to defend himself and claim this wasn't his intent, but this isn't the same Betty Draper who suffered through his drunken groping for fear of making trouble for her husband. She tells him she has to go and hangs up on him... and is left to brood on the news she has been given, because it is clear this is the first she is hearing about a new contract on offer from Sterling Cooper.

Duck Phillips answers a knock on his door at The Pierre, and there she is... Peggy Olson. He tells her that she's missed Hermès and he was about to give up on her showing up. She probably wouldn't have, either, if it hadn't been for Don's little temper tantrum, not that she is going to tell him that. She's carrying the scarf and hands it over, and he invites her in for a drink since she came all this way. She doesn't see the harm in that (oh Peggy) and enters the room, saying she'll have whatever he is having.

He isn't having anything, it seems he is firmly back on the wagon again, but he doesn't mind her drinking and she asks for a whiskey, not pleased when he notes she really is Don's girl, complaining that she was "raised on whiskey", obviously sick of people forever believing there is something going on between her and Don. He invites her to sit down for "a few minutes of adult conversation" before they can go both go home, and again she sees no harm (oh Peggy) and takes a seat. He sits beside her, close but not uncomfortably so, and he's all business: Grey has Hermès, Macys, Heinz baby food and Revlon, and what all those clients have in common is the need for a woman's insight in Creative.

In spite of handing over the scarf and her insistence she isn't leaving Sterling Cooper, Peggy is willing to listen what he's pitching and ask questions: Would she be Copy Chief? No, or at least not at first, but she would be making more money. Would she get to go to Paris for Hermès? No, they come to Manhattan for their meetings... but she's also sure as hell not going on any trips while she's working at Sterling Cooper. He doesn't offer her the world, he offers her "better", a step up from her current position, more money and chances for advancement... and perhaps most importantly (at least during this wooing phase), positive reinforcement and acknowledgement of her skills.

She's almost shaking as she considers everything he is offering, but something holds her back. Loyalty? Fear of the unknown? Paranoia about being sold a bill of goods and then discovering things aren't as promised? Whatever the case, when she says she can't, Duck proves as good as his word and simply says,"Okay." He accepts her rejection at last, but not before one last reminder on what she is missing out on, pointing out that what she just heard and saw from him is what opportunity looks like. In other words, she may never see or hear anything like this offer ever again.

He offers his hand and she shakes it... but he doesn't let go. Instead he tells her his only regret is that he won't see her every day, and how he can't believe that he used to walk by her every day and didn't even notice her, and he can't understand how that is possible.

"....oh," she replies, because this is absolutely the last thing she expected to happen. He leans in and kisses her, and though she doesn't resist or pull away, the look on her face screams,"WHY IS THIS HAPPENING ALL OF A SUDDEN!?!" When he pulls away, she is more suspicious than scared or upset, asking what he wants from her, unable to see this as anything other than some ploy. Duck though, now that the business side of things is done, has no problem whatsoever telling her in that distinctive voice of his that what he wants is to take her into the bedroom, rip her clothes off with his teeth, throw her on the bed and "give you a go-around like you've never had."

Well what do you say to something like that? Peggy doesn't say anything, just stares, mind seemingly shut down from trying to process information/a scenario she absolutely can't comprehend.... Duck Phillips!?! He leans in for another kiss and this time she leans in to join him. The two make out on the couch, an absolutely unlikely pairing in the sense that NOBODY saw anything to ever indicate this was on the cards. He never noticed her when they worked together, but she also never noticed him. They largely operated utterly independently of each other and didn't interact, and now suddenly he's talking about just absolutely going to town on her and she's feeling vulnerable enough to take any kind of positive encouragement she can get, including a horny middle-aged divorcee ex-alcoholic who got run out of their mutual workplace after he utterly bumbled his attempt to rein in her mentor.



I mean sure... okay why not!?!

Far from the weirdest thing I've seen in a long time, Betty is drinking coffee and smoking as she waits for Don to return home. When he does she tells the kids to turn off the TV and go upstairs, and Don immediately grasps that something is wrong. He's surprised when he finds out what though, as she tells him that Roger called and asked about his contract. She's no fool, stating that he obviously called meaning to set the cat among the pigeons and she is well aware of that... but she's also clearly (and justifiably) mad to have only heard about the contract from him and not Don.

Don makes straight for the phone, intending to call Roger and give him a piece of his mind, but Betty tells him not to bother. Don is pissed though, and assures her (somewhat irritably) that she doesn't have to worry about his job. Why would she, she asks with understandable bitterness, she doesn't know anything about it. Now it is his turn to stand in stunned silence like Peggy earlier as she rants about how he got offered a new contract and she didn't hear a drat thing about it, she had to learn about it from him, putting extra contempt into the reference to Roger which in turn reflects worse on Don because at least Roger thought she would know.

But when she demands to know why the hell he won't sign the contract any way he gets fed up. He was shocked by her venom but now they're into territory he desperately wants to avoid. Don always believed therapy was a crock, only useful as a backdoor into having his wife's most private thoughts openly handed to him by a lovely-rear end doctor, and so he refuses to engage in discussion about - or acknowledge himself - the clear psychological barriers and neuroses that make him so reluctant to sign.

He insists that the matter of his contract doesn't concern her, that she is taken care of, as if simply providing money is enough and she should expect no sharing of thoughts/fears/concerns from the other half of their wedding vow to have and to hold. She won't let him shake her clear of the question though, repeating herself: Why won't you sign it? Getting angry as a replacement for having a valid argument, Don snaps that he'll explain things to her since she is - as usual - making this all about herself.

Don Draper, ladies and gentlemen, a pot calling a kettle self-absorbed.

He insists that no contract means HE has all the power, that they (who is they? The clients? Sterling Cooper?) want him but can't have him. Her answer though is both sarcastic and brutal: he's absolutely right, why would she think him withholding himself so somebody wants him more would be anything she could understand or relate to. That he has no answer to, nor her angry reminder that they're talking about three years, which is basically nothing (hell, little Gene won't even be in school yet!) and then hits him with the most searing (and possibly accurate) indictment possible: is he hesitating because he doesn't know where he will be in three years?

That's more than he can take, mostly because it gets right down to the heart of his most common problem: he's constantly looking for something new and he doesn't like being tied down, mostly because he's constantly running from himself. He came back to her and begged to be accepted back into the family and she allowed it, but she has always suspected and this only seems to confirm that he still wants the option of just being able to walk away and abandon his work, friends and family at any time. It's not a point he really does much to dissuade when he chooses to just walk out of the house rather than have it out with her or - horror of horrors! - talk about his feelings.

No, he just grabs his hat (and keeps his glass of booze) and tells her goodnight and walks straight out the door. She's not happy about that, but she doesn't chase him or try to stop him. This is HIS decision, and besides she has other things to worry about, like little Gene crying after being woken by the noise.



Don drives through the night, drinking without a care in spite of his less than stellar history with booze and vehicles. This is inter-cut with Duck and Peggy making out and stripping down on the bed, Duck moaning that he loves the taste of liquor on her breath (oh God that's a warning sign, along with him being, you know, old enough to be her dad). She's making by far the least dangerous decision tonight though, as Don pulls over and picks up a couple of hitchhikers on the side of the road if only for the company.

They're Doug and Sandy, in their late teens or at best 20-years-old, and they're on their way to Niagara Falls... or at least the nearest motel. They pack into the front seat of the Lincoln, Sandy handing Don back his glass without blinking, and set off down the road again.

Excited, Sandy lets him in on the big secret of why they're going to Niagara Falls... to get married! Amused by this obvious stereotype, Don only offers,"Imagine that," and is curious when they tell him everybody they know is trying to talk them out of it, why? Well because they don't know each other that well and they're not really in love! That pleases Don even more, agreeing that they must have a good reason but it's not any of his business.

Unlike Don to his wife though, Doug and Sandy are more than happy to share: he's worried about getting drafted and sent to Vietnam, and he can't get into school, but Sandy has heard that married men don't get drafted and welp that's good enough for them! He takes a moment to apologize if Don served in the military and he has offended him, but Don - who did but isn't - tells him it is fine.

Doug at least is 22, though Sandy seems younger, but they're younger than their years, taking Don's assurance that he has it on good authority they're right about Americans being sent to Vietnam as proof that he might be some kind of "spook". Not at all he promises, he's in advertising, which makes them all laugh. Further proving that they have no issue with (over)sharing, Sandy notes that the night air smells good but that's probably because she's high. Don has to laugh at that and agrees it is true (has he gotten high since that one night at Midge's?), and the two take that as a sign that Don might be "cool" for what they want to offer next.

They don't have money to pay for the ride, but they can offer something. Sandy brings out a little jar of red pills, explaining they're her dad's: Phenobarbitals, and he's never taken any before but hell why not add drugs to the drinking and driving!?! So he asks for a couple, and swallows them down with his booze without hesitation. His drink finished, he tosses it out the window without a car, shattering glass all over the road. Why would he care? He doesn't affect him and it stopped having use to him, so he can leave it all behind him and never think about the mess he left in his wake. That's the kind of person Don Draper tells himself he'd like to be.

Arriving at a motel, Don apparently decides to join them in their room, either at their invite or his own. He and Sandy dance together as Doug watches and drinks beer, Don marveling over Sandy's youth and asking how old she is, and she tells him 19. Doug pulls her away, not aggressively though he does get in a good-natured jibe asking how old Don is. Don accepts this in good grace, after all he is old enough to be her father, and somehow in spite of everything the one flaw that Don has never seemingly indulged in is the creepy desire for girls barely (or not) out of their teens. Even Joy was at least past Freshman College age, and she was the exception rather than the rule given Midge, Bobbie and Rachel were all either very late twenties or 30s (and Bobbie seemingly closer to 40).

What he is, however, is kind of the pathetic third wheel as he chases oblivion so as not to deal with his wife and his job and the horror and misery of being offered a secure job, enormous money and a more firmly entrenched partnership position in the Agency. He's hanging out with kids in a seedy motel, taking drugs, basically being a sad loser that is a far cry from his carefully cultivated image of a sophisticated man of influence.

Settling on the edge of the bed, he asks why Doug cant to go to school and it turns out it's not that he can't, it's that he doesn't want to, he considers it a waste of time. Sandy asks if he's enjoying watching them dance and Doug, a little crueler, asks if he enjoys watching full stop. Don, who isn't getting his jollies watching a couple of hick kids stumble around in a lovely motel, just smiles non-committedly... until they dance out of his field of vision and he finds himself staring right at the smirking face of his long-dead father Archibald.

Archibald, jug of moonshine on his thigh and relaxing in a rocking chair, tells his grown son an old joke about a hillbilly and homosexuality that Don finds himself laughing at in spite of himself. Doug and Sandy are a little confused, both by the laughter and the fact he's not paying them any attention as they sprawl onto the bed to make love.... or more accurately, to screw, though Sandy has probably had a go-around like this before.

Don is in his own little world though, ignoring them to glare at his father who is bringing the contempt back in full force as he derides him for being "up to your old tricks". He mocks the fact that Conrad Hilton got taken in so easily by Don's act, a drug-aided representation of all of Don's self-loathing visually projected by his hated father, taunting Don's desire not to be tied down, sneering at his woman's hands, asking what he does, what he makes beyond growing bullshit?



Don looks from his soft hands to the chair, but it is empty now. He closes his eyes and seems to be drifting off... but he's not down yet. Doug and Sandy cease their squirming on the bed, Doug getting up and stand just behind Don, staring at him in growing frustration, asking how the hell he is still awake when Sandy points out she gave him two reds. Doug is tired of waiting, they "lured" Don into their trap (to be fair, he kind of lured himself) but things aren't going to plan: he didn't make a move on Sandy, he isn't showing any prurient interest in either of them, the drugs aren't working... gently caress it, Plan B, he just wallops Don right in the back of the neck and sends him crashing face first into the carpet.

The present has caught up to the flash forward now. It's morning and Don is staring at his battered face in the mirror. There's a note from the not-entirely-dim couple left behind thanking him for the help and offering one bit of kindness: they didn't steal his car, just everything else. "Your welcome" reads the sign off, indicating that maybe they wouldn't have accepted Doug into school even if he wanted to go anyway.

Don checks his wallet, it is indeed cleaned out, only a single dollar left. He staggers away to the bathroom to clean himself up, ready to go back to work after his sad, pathetic little display of defiance after getting justifiably called out by his wife for his lack of communication and his unexplained reluctance to sign a contract that will give them security for at least 3 years and possibly leave them set for life.

A very different awakening is happening at The Pierre, where Duck also wakes and finds Peggy sitting up casting worried looks at the door. She is worried housekeeping will show up, but Duck assures her he put out the sign so they wouldn't be bothered (when did he do that? At what point did he decide to seduce her?). The normal expectation at a moment like this would be that Peggy would shy away, that the morning after the night before would be filled with recriminations and regret.

Not so, though she's been careful and picky about sexual partners since the debacle with Pete and her pregnancy, though she's passed on one handsome young College men and indulged in a one-night-stand with another who was naive but earnest... here she shows no sign that she regrets, if not refusing his advances, then not sneaking out once he was dead to the world. Instead, her fears about housekeeping mollified, she offers a token,"I don't know..." before she enthusiastically joins his embrace as they kiss, enjoying another round of last night's utterly unpredictable turn of events.

Meanwhile the decorator is horrified to have been invited to the Draper Residence to see Betty's own addition to their work... the fainting couch. It's sitting right there on the hearth she was determined to keep open, and she complains that Betty has ruined all their hard work... and even worse, by choosing an antique she's doing something "expected". Betty likes it though, it's a place for her to lie down and relax and masturbate and all the decorator can say is that she doesn't want her name associated with this mess.

Most notably, Betty appears to be going about daily life without a single concern about Don's absence. As she warned him last season when he returned begging to be taken back... life isn't really all that different when he is gone.

At Sterling Cooper, a more than satisfied Peggy is surprised to see Don's bruised face and the bandaid over the cut on his nose. "Fender bender," he offers as a non-specific explanation, though perhaps he should reconsider that since his last car crash problem involved Peggy bailing him and Bobbie out of a jam and surely she remembers that too.

She doesn't ask for elaboration though, to be honest she doesn't really care about his troubles, simply saying she's going to get coffee and asking if he'd like one too... but not as the action of a secretary, but the courtesy due a peer. He declines and heads to his office, telling Allison the same unimaginative,"Fender bender" story. She offers a sorry but quickly moves on, because like Peggy she has other concerns: Mr. Cooper is waiting in Don's office.

It's the second time in a few days that an important person has preceded Don and just gone on into his office without him. This one isn't as exciting as Connie of course, though he finds Cooper similarly seated in Don's chair. This time Don doesn't take the supplicant's chair, maintaining his standing position and asking brusquely what Cooper wants.

What Cooper wants is to impart an important lesson, in typical Cooper fashion. He reminds Don that it was Sacajawea who carried the baby to the Pacific ocean, but somewhere along the way the baby decided that HE discovered America. The meaning is obvious but Cooper elaborates anyway: Don has been standing on the shoulders of others to get to where he is, and though he is accomplished and valuable he is not the sole reason for his success. Sterling Cooper took him in, nurtured him and treated him like family and now is the time to pay them back because he cannot go any further on his own. He's going to sign that contract, he's going to commit to three years where he can't simply just walk away, and there will be no more dispute on this front.

Cooper stands and places the contract on the desk, and Don is out of excuses. Cooper gives him one last push though, forcing Don to openly agree that Cooper knows "something" about him. Cooper passes over the pen and gives one last little push: who is REALLY signing the contract anyway?

That's a rough one, after the talk of treating him like family Cooper reveals that though he told Pete,"Who cares" and probably meant it... he's held on to that little tidbit, that knowledge that Dick Whitman faked his death and took over the life of Don Draper. Now he's used it at the opportune time, a reminder that he not only nurtured Don but could probably destroy him too. When he tells him this, he's all smiles. But when he's done speaking, the smile drops and it's a hard-faced old survivor of the Great Depression staring Donald Draper down.

So Don capitulates at last. He takes the contract and signs it, and the last vestige of protest he has comes out in a bitter, angry and unshakeable demand: he doesn't want to have any further contact with Roger Sterling. That is his one demand, the showboating and arrogant rear end in a top hat who keeps loving up everybody else's life and insisting they are in the wrong for being upset about it, the guy who called his wife and thus is - in Don's mind - responsible for the fight and therefore also somehow Don's mugging. No more. Martin and Lewis are done and they're not getting back together.

He signs the contract, hating every second, marking the date where he gave up his freedom to walk away.... July 23rd, 1963: Seven Twenty Three.

That evening Betty lays on her fainting couch when she hears the door open and somebody stomp through. She calls out to Don, not concerned or angry but wanting to know if he's finally had enough pouting and come home. He has. He walks into the doorframe, glares at her and quietly growls,"I signed it" before trudging up the stairs. The contract gives him and his family security, money, and will at least temporarily keep the PPL head office from his back. But for all the very good reasons why he should have signed it, and for all the very bad reasons why he wouldn't, there is one unmistakable fact that can't be denied no matter whose fault it is. Don Draper just put a leash around his own neck, he gave up a piece of the individuality he craves so much (see his reaction to Miss Farrell claiming he's just like all the others) and now for all the success and wealth and plaudits that the Hilton deal has garnered him, he feels lesser than himself. The closing song that plays over the credits after Don goes up those stairs says it all really: Sterling Cooper owns him now.



"I look forward to it," Don told Connie when he was told life would change now. "They all say that at first," Connie told him back. Don just didn't ever dream that would come true so fast.

Episode Index

Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 12:35 on Mar 25, 2021

The Klowner
Apr 20, 2019

by Jeffrey of YOSPOS

quote:

Cooper stands and places the contract on the desk, and Don is out of excuses. Cooper gives him one last push though, forcing Don to openly agree that Cooper knows "something" about him. Cooper passes over the pen and gives one last little push: who is REALLY signing the contract anyway.

I get goosebumps every time. Robert Morse kills it in this one.

GoutPatrol
Oct 17, 2009

*Stupid Babby*

Duck chat, wait until end of season to read:
do we think duck has already been fired from Grey? I remember he had his own very sad office in the first phone call. doing everything in the hotel room is pretty suspect.

Edit: looking at this, this could be unspoiled, but I give it up to thread wisdom to see if it should be.

GoutPatrol fucked around with this message at 13:11 on Mar 25, 2021

Devorum
Jul 30, 2005

The Klowner posted:

I get goosebumps every time. Robert Morse kills it in this one.

It's so good. You can tell he's been holding that info in his back pocket, knowing it would be useful.

Yoshi Wins
Jul 14, 2013

Jerusalem, you really don’t think Don treats Peggy as a protege? He’s so different with her than he is with Paul or (from what little we’ve seen) Dale, Kurt, or Smitty. He’s not warm or nurturing, but he’s doing his version of mentorship with her. Think about their interactions in For Those Who Think Young. Although it is true that his already harsh demeanor has taken on an outright abusive edge with her in recent episodes. We’ve seen with his marriage that he has a tendency not to value things until they’re gone, and if he destroys his connection with his most valued colleague, he will only have himself to blame.

Roger calling the sunrise “average” is hilarious, and I love the way Don laughs to himself about it, not laughing like he’s appreciating a joke, but more like he’s laughing at Roger. Roger has just said something so cynical that even Don is taken aback by it. It’s perfect.

JethroMcB
Jan 23, 2004

We're normal now.
We love your family.
The Duck reveal...:gonk: So many questions, and they're all some variation on "Why?"

Yoshi Wins posted:

Jerusalem, you really don’t think Don treats Peggy as a protege? He’s so different with her than he is with Paul or (from what little we’ve seen) Dale, Kurt, or Smitty. He’s not warm or nurturing, but he’s doing his version of mentorship with her. Think about their interactions in For Those Who Think Young. Although it is true that his already harsh demeanor has taken on an outright abusive edge with her in recent episodes. We’ve seen with his marriage that he has a tendency not to value things until they’re gone, and if he destroys his connection with his most valued colleague, he will only have himself to blame.

That's definitely their dynamic, and there's a major downside to having that relationship with Don in that he is going to treat a protege the way he would treat himself in that role. Don and Peggy are both clearly motivated by validation from others - Don needs clients to praise his work to feel satisfaction, while Peggy primarily wants approval from other creative types (especially those with a position of authority like Don) - but only Peggy is open about it. Don can't (or won't) understand that desire for personal recognition and withholds any praise beyond signing off on the work, a reward in and of itself to him.

Another blind spot for Don is in how he harps on Peggy for thinking she's "owed" something, ignoring the fact that - from what we can gather in the timeline - his own rise was equally meteoric, from the Korean war to selling used cars to becoming Creative Director in under a decade. (Not sure if that stems from his inability to recognize her desire for validation or an unwillingness to fully process the whole "stolen identity/life built on a lie" thing.) I read Peggy's motivation as another venue of looking for validation, in the form of responsibility and the trust that she can handle larger accounts. Don, though, approaches it as though it has to be some kind of transaction, seeing it only in terms of what she could take from him.

Yoshi Wins
Jul 14, 2013

JethroMcB posted:

Another blind spot for Don is in how he harps on Peggy for thinking she's "owed" something, ignoring the fact that - from what we can gather in the timeline - his own rise was equally meteoric, from the Korean war to selling used cars to becoming Creative Director in under a decade. (Not sure if that stems from his inability to recognize her desire for validation or an unwillingness to fully process the whole "stolen identity/life built on a lie" thing.) I read Peggy's motivation as another venue of looking for validation, in the form of responsibility and the trust that she can handle larger accounts. Don, though, approaches it as though it has to be some kind of transaction, seeing it only in terms of what she could take from him.

Yeah, Don almost acts like he's threatened by her, although he also appreciates working with her more than anyone else in creative except probably Sal. And his friendlier demeanor with Sal is probably attributable in part to the fact that Sal isn't trying to end up with Don's job one day, which is what Peggy wants. She even said as much in The Fog! ("I look at you and I think, 'I want what he has.'")

I agree he's unfair to chastise her for her ambition when his own rise was so rapid. I don't think he's as grateful as he could be to Roger and Cooper. If Sterling-Cooper hadn't been privately owned by just 3 partners, one of whom was silent, I don't think they would have had the freedom to make a risky play by promoting a guy who'd only been in advertising for like 5-7 years to creative director. He was good, but he was also lucky.

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010


Legit Cyberpunk









Jerusalem when you were talking about the fainting couch you accidentally wrote "betty" a couple of times instead of peggy nbd just fyi

sure okay
Apr 7, 2006





Another fantastic writeup. It's strange, but despite Peggy's unwanted pregnancy I've always felt she had such a firm grasp on her own sexual adventures. I was delighted and also unsurprised to see she had no hints of shame on her the morning after. It was unexpected sure, but it's what she wanted in the moment, and we can sense that she won't let it complicate her career moves. To that end, I didn't think the hookup was all that wierd.

Duck's line about tasting the alcohol was sure as poo poo wierd to me though. Got me wondering if he asks prostitutes to, like, pour whiskey on their tits so he can lick it off. Wierd guy, Duck.

The Klowner
Apr 20, 2019

by Jeffrey of YOSPOS
Perhaps the eclipse is making everyone so drat horny. In many mythologies, the sun and the moon are gendered, usually one being male and the other female (though which is which changes from culture to culture). A solar eclipse, then, could be interpreted mythologically as a union of sorts between the two, as noted in this article:

quote:

SEX

German myth has the cold and lazy male moon, ignoring the fiery passionate female sun during the day most of the time, except for a few bits of passion during an eclipse. Then they’d squabble again and the sun would resume shining again, Littmann said. In western Africa, it’s the occasional and furtive rendezvous but this time between the male sun and female moon, with the couple modestly turning out the lights during an eclipse.

There is quite a lot of horny going on in this episode, some of it as sudden, as brief, and as shocking as an eclipse:

  • Don's back and forth with Miss Farrell
  • The hitchhiking elopers who steal Don's money
  • Betty's "meeting" with Henry Francis, and her captivation with the fainting chair
  • Peggy's encounter with Duck, preceded by her conversation with Pete that's, ahem, pregnant with portent
  • Connie's likening of his dissatisfaction with his company's advertising to "a wandering eye" and "a large appetite"
  • Carlton's... well, his very presence in the episode, since all he ever has to say is usually something creepy and sexual

Of course, the eclipse has also been seen as a bad omen...

McSpanky
Jan 16, 2005







Shageletic
Jul 25, 2007

Cool episode that is largely about the stories people tell about themselves. Obviously with Don, but also Peggy and even Pete. Pete isn't sure of himself, scion of a vanished dynasty, so his only hold to self respect is based on how people see him. Peggy, hardscrabble second generation immigrant, is vastly more sure of herself, but utterly aware of her incongruity on Madison Ave.

Either way Sterling Cooper, and business as a whole, benefits from their crisis of self confidence.

Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?

Yoshi Wins posted:

Jerusalem, you really don’t think Don treats Peggy as a protege? He’s so different with her than he is with Paul or (from what little we’ve seen) Dale, Kurt, or Smitty. He’s not warm or nurturing, but he’s doing his version of mentorship with her. Think about their interactions in For Those Who Think Young. Although it is true that his already harsh demeanor has taken on an outright abusive edge with her in recent episodes. We’ve seen with his marriage that he has a tendency not to value things until they’re gone, and if he destroys his connection with his most valued colleague, he will only have himself to blame.

I absolutely think that, like a lot of things in Don's life, he treats/thinks of her as a protege.... when it suits him. What's been interesting to me is how his snapping or berating her usually is because he's taking out his aggression for something else on her, and he might feel bad afterwards but he certainly never apologizes because that's not how he sees their relationship (one where he has to apologize).

When Freddy first brought it to his attention that Peggy had potential as a copywriter, he gave her a shot and he was impressed. He gave her chances, he let her make mistakes and then gave her (usually) gentle correction or suggestions and she took them onboard. But I think while he probably saw a little of himself in her, a large part of the appeal was that he enjoyed her adulation. He could credit himself for her success and growth, he got to enjoy her coming to him for advice or seeking the benefit of his knowledge.

I don't think it's entirely unrelated that the shift away from this dynamic follows his return from California. He comes back to a family that is going just fine without him. He comes back to an office that has continued on successfully despite his absence. And Peggy's in Freddy's old office, she's actually continued to develop just fine without him too. She's started to call him Don instead of Mr. Draper, she nailed the creative on the Popsicle Account entirely on her own, she wants more money and more opportunities and now he's starting to see her more as a.... well, not a rival so much, but she's certainly not the adoring daughterlittle girlprotege who craves his advice or guidance she used to be.

If he was wise, or capable of a little more self-awareness, or even just a little selfless, he'd understand Peggy is the key to building a strong Creative Department and a potential new Creative Director to move into a gap left when he gets to complete the move up to the level of partnership status that Roger and Cooper enjoy... to basically set up a situation where he's put in the work to get to a point where he can enjoy a lighter workload without worrying about the people left behind not being capable of doing what he does. Except that wouldn't work with his ego: he told Joan you shouldn't take the world moving on without you personally but he absolutely does, he likes to think of himself as integral to Sterling Cooper's success, which is part of why he resists the contract. He wants to believe that they need him more than he needs them, and that he isn't just another employee like everybody else (like he thinks of Peggy), that he can somehow stand apart.

So yeah, that's a long winded way of saying yes she is his protege, and he knows it... but he simultaneously resents and fears what that means. The mentor/protege relationship at its heart is one where the former understands they're building somebody to replace them, and for all that he'd be willing to walk (or run) away from Sterling Cooper at a moment's notice, it burns him to think that he's in any way replaceable.

All of this of course is considering everything from Don's side. It doesn't even scratch the constraining frustration Peggy must be feeling or her baffled and hurt reactions to Don getting so aggressive about her motivations or concerns.

Yoshi Wins posted:

Roger calling the sunrise “average” is hilarious, and I love the way Don laughs to himself about it, not laughing like he’s appreciating a joke, but more like he’s laughing at Roger. Roger has just said something so cynical that even Don is taken aback by it. It’s perfect.

One of the more hilarious things to consider now that I think about it is that Roger of all people is the guy who just straight up rewarded Peggy for her talent/moxie without having any ulterior motive or psychological baggage: she stepped up to the plate creatively speaking when Don was absent, then pushed for acknowledgement of that fact by asking for Freddy's old office, and Roger agreed with her and gave it to her and that was that.

Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 02:10 on Mar 27, 2021

Yoshi Wins
Jul 14, 2013

Jerusalem posted:

I absolutely think that, like a lot of things in Don's life, he treats/thinks of her as a protege.... when it suits him. What's been interesting to me is how his snapping or berating her usually is because he's taking out his aggression for something else on her, and he might feel bad afterwards but he certainly never apologizes because that's now he sees their relationship (one where he has to apologize).

The lack of apologies on this show often pains me. Don is one of the worst offenders, but several other characters are bad about it too. It's not just mean to not apologize; it's straight up dumb. The social credibility you get for giving a good apology is huge, and easily pays off. But some of the more ambitious or status-oriented characters can't tolerate it. And Don is narcissistic too and usually can't even accept that he's flawed.

Jerusalem posted:

One of the more hilarious things to consider now that I think about it is that Roger of all people is the guy who just straight up rewarded Peggy for her talent/moxie without having any ulterior motive or psychological baggage: she stepped up to the plate creatively speaking when Don was absent, then pushed for acknowledgement of that fact by asking for Freddy's old office, and Roger agreed with her and gave it to her and that was that.

It's like you were saying about how Don sees Peggy as almost a threat - Roger was born rich and has every confidence he'll die rich. He's not threatened by Peggy getting a bigger piece of the pie. He's not going to stress over who gets that office. Sure, here's your gold star, kid!

The Klowner
Apr 20, 2019

by Jeffrey of YOSPOS
oh man j's gonna have his fuckin mind blown by the suitcase lmao. Their last encounter at the end of this current season is also going be a huge pay off for everything he's talking about

Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?

sebmojo posted:

Jerusalem when you were talking about the fainting couch you accidentally wrote "betty" a couple of times instead of peggy nbd just fyi

I've hunted through looking for a mix-up and I don't see one, can you quote the relevant portion so I can fix it?

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010


Legit Cyberpunk









Jerusalem posted:

I've hunted through looking for a mix-up and I don't see one, can you quote the relevant portion so I can fix it?

Sorry dude I was joking! I actually love the way you keep mixing up betty and peggy, and its an indication of how strong the comparison is. I was just saying you didn't mix it up this time...

Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?

Haha, I'm sorry I made you explain the joke, now I feel as awkward as Henry Francis! :sweatdrop:

Yoshi Wins
Jul 14, 2013

The Klowner posted:

oh man j's gonna have his fuckin mind blown by the suitcase lmao. Their last encounter at the end of this current season is also going be a huge pay off for everything he's talking about

Usually he doesn't weigh in on how much he liked or didn't like an episode in the write-up, but I am willing to bet that he will say something about how great The Suitcase is. It rocks everyone's face.

And yeah, his pitch to Peggy in "Shut the Door. Have a Seat." is pretty monumental, telling her essentially that she's good at advertising because like him she has experienced a trauma that left a hole that can never be filled. Don goes through his days neck deep in bad coping strategies--drinking, philandering, and yes, abusing subordinates--but then we get a moment where he focuses on exactly what makes her special to him, and man it's powerful.

Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?

Season 3, Episode 8 - Souvenir
Written by Lisa Albert & Matthew Weiner, Directed by Phil Abraham

Joan Harris posted:

This never happened.

It's August, it's hot, and at Sterling Cooper Pete Campbell is reading Ebony Magazine. Is he interested in the articles? Trying to understand a different way of living to his own? Or just continuing in his technically laudable goal of figuring out a way to monetize the low ad-rates in black magazines?

Whatever his goal, he's interrupted by Hildy who hopefully brings him a stack of completed work, clearly wanting this to mark an end to the working week. It takes a second for Pete to catch on, she has to remind him it's 5pm. Thankfully, he takes this in the right way, semi-apologizing for not realizing sooner that she'd be keen to get away for the weekend. As she goes to leave though he asks what her plans are for the weekend, and you can see as she turns just before she puts on her smile that she really doesn't want to be talking to him about her plans out of the office.

She and some of the other girls have gone in with the women working at the Travel Insurance place to hire out a home in Saltaire. Pete of course immediately sees the downside, pointing out the place will be rife with mosquitoes, though Hildy happily explains that she's one of those lucky people who doesn't get bitten. Mercifully she's saved from this unwanted conversation by the arrival of Harry and Paul, who gently mock Pete for making her stick around because he's got nowhere to go.

Hildy gratefully makes her exit, and once she's gone Pete offers a take that as usual says far more about himself than anybody else: why should a man on his own (presumably Trudy is staying with her parents?) be viewed with pity when it's really a single girl like Hildy who should be the target? Nobody was pitying him, of course, Harry and Paul's joke was just some good-natured ribbing, but the privileged Pete still doesn't get that he's not the victim of life, it turns out that reading Ebony hasn't really opened his eyes much at all.

Harry of course points out that Hildy is not to be pitied at all, he envies that she and the other single women have so much freedom and can do whatever they want, unsurprisingly betraying that he's also pretty blind to his own privilege. Ken joins them all, commenting that Pete especially doesn't need to stick around pretending to work since all their bosses are long gone: Cooper is in Montana, Roger is "in Jane" (this gets a chuckle), and Don is on vacation.

Pete corrects that, of course, Don is working: Conrad Hilton is sending him around to the "armpit" locations of his Hilton Hotels to see how they operate. But it's a moot point, nobody else is around, and while Pete might like New York in summer (it being quiet reminds him of his childhood, though of course he lived in luxury on an estate with horses) for the rest of them it's a miserable place they don't want to be in for any longer than reasonable. Pete at least takes the cue that it is time to leave work, but for all his talk of liking the quiet he's quick to offer to buy them all drinks if they want to go out on the town with him.



At the Draper Residence, Betty is going through addresses to call to try and drum up names for the Junior League's petition to save the Reservoir. Don has returned home from out of town and is clearly tired, but seems to have taken his return home as a chance to enjoy time with his loved ones for a change. So instead of just going up and straight to bed, he drops his travel clothes in the laundry and chats with Betty, enjoy the beer she poured for him. Even now though there's a bit of baggage between them, he's sure to point out the unfamiliar shirt among his clothes was mistakenly added to his wardrobe by the Hilton (would she suspect it was a gift from a lover otherwise?).

Still, they're certainly on far more equitable standing than they were in season 1 when he dominated the household, or in season 2 where he fled and had to beg to return. He credits her work for the Junior League, pointing out she should be paid for it ("I'm paid enough," is her reply, an acknowledgement of his own success) and asks what the kids are doing outside in the dark. They're catching lightning bugs, and Betty suggests he go out and join them, to spend some bonding time with them. He doesn't resist the idea, sometimes he seems irritated that his children need attention when he's tired, and he could be forgiven for being too exhausted from his trip to play with them now. But he sees the sense in her suggestion, in fact he seems to treasure the idea, and heads outside where his kids are sure to be delighted to be joined by him.

Pete returns home to an empty apartment (Trudy MUST be with her parents), a little drunk but not overly so. Enjoying the bachelor lifestyle, he pulls off his shirt and tie both without loosening or unbuttoning, letting it drop to the floor in a pile. He takes a second to observe his shirtless self in the mirror before flopping down on the couch to relax without any of that annoying,"Talking to the woman he loves" stuff that, like Don Draper, he sometimes seems to see as a burden.

Betty continues making calls through the night, the kids in bed now and Don relaxing on the couch watching television. Of course, it being summer most of the people she is trying to reach are out of town. As she goes to make another call the phone unexpectedly rings in hand, and she has to call Don in to take another call from the Hilton office. She isn't pleased to hear him agree to Tuesday night and see him write "Pan Am" on her sheet of paper, that means yet another flight.
After he hangs up, she asks where he is going and is surprised to learn it won't be in the US this time, Conrad is in Rome and wants Don to join him. She opines it is better than Dallas at least but he disagrees, it's a 2 day trip which means no time for sight-seeing or enjoying the history, just a drive to the hotel in a taxicab and if he's lucky he'll see the Colosseum through the window on the way there. With a sigh, Betty notes it would have made sense for "us" (by which she means her and the kids) to go stay at the beach for summer, since Don hasn't been around at all.

He's quick (and gentle) to point out this isn't true, which is reasonable enough considering he's come home exhausted but still made a point of spending time with the family. It is his second point that catches her by surprise though... she could join him on this little trip. She reminds him they have a two-month-old baby though, and he offers a consolation that at least with this Account he can take her to stay at the Waldorf Astoria anytime she wants. That's not Rome though, and they both know it, and he offers her a little apology before taking the note and heading upstairs to catch up on his sleep. With thoughts of Rome (even if only for 2 days) running through her head, she goes back to the mundane task of making those calls.

The next morning, Pete Campbell is settled down on the couch eating cereal and drinking coffee as he watches kids shows on the television. He doesn't stay there ALL day as evidenced by a wardrobe change, but come the evening he comes awake with a start on the couch again, having spent a glorious day doing absolutely NOTHING and ending up napping while watching TV. He decides to do something productive at least and collects the trash to throw out, but when he heads out into the building corridor he's surprised to find a young woman sobbing next to the garbage chute, a pink dress half stuffed into it.

He asks if she is okay but she can barely collect herself well enough to respond. He recognizes her as the Au Pair for the Lawrences, another couple who live on this floor, but all she can get out is that she's sorry, that the dress is stuck, and that the Lawrences are going to send her home. She speaks with a German accent but her English is clear, and the only barrier to their understanding is that she's too distraught to make any sense.

Pete calms her by taking action, helping get the dress out of the chute which leads him to notice the wine stain on it. He asks what happens and this helps her to focus, because one thing she knows for sure is she can't admit what happened. So she grabs the dress and hugs it tight, and now that she's not openly sobbing anymore when Pete calmly asks her what her name is she is able to answer, telling him her name is Gudrun. He introduces himself too and promises he isn't trying to get her in trouble, and she admits she borrowed Mrs. Lawrence's dress for a party and the wine was spilled on it, and she can't get it clean.

Hilariously, Pete's recommendation is to just put it back in the closet and blame it on the little girl when Mrs. Lawrence finds it, and a shocked Gudrun insists she would never do this. However throwing the dress away isn't going to help, Mrs. Lawrence would just assume she stole it. Gudrun tries to retreat to the safety of the Lawrence's apartment and her misery, but Pete stops her. He's being friendly and as non-threatening as possible, suggesting instead she give HIM the dress. That really confuses her, but she does as she is told and with some satisfaction he notes the label on the back is from Bonwit Teller. He tells her he will see what he can do, and when a glimmer of hope sparks in her eyes he reminds her that he can't guarantee anything, but he will at least try.

Still emotionally devastated, still feeling the hollow grief of her fear she will be sent back to Germany in disgrace, she holds onto that glimmer of hope though, offering him a timid goodnight before returning to the apartment. That leaves Pete behind, holding the dress, having uncharacteristically offered a seemingly selfless act. The fact of her physical attractiveness cannot be discounted, but maybe it isn't too much to ask that Pete might have just felt like doing something nice for somebody else for once? Even if it's only because she happened to be a pretty blonde girl?



An alarm clock wakes Betty and she sets about her day's work, including the Junior League and her housework. She's preparing for the big town meeting, and later that day before she steps out she checks her make-up and lipstick in the mirror. She's not alone though, Sally was seated before the mirror herself when Betty arrived to make her silent, businesslike checks to her appearance. As Betty goes through a process she has perfected over a lifetime, Sally watches in utter fascination, enthralled by her mother's beauty in much the same way Betty was once enthralled by her mother Ruth's. When Betty leaves with a gentle touch on Sally's shoulder, Sally watches her go and then stares at herself in the mirror, considering all the ways she could "improve" her own beauty to match her mother's.

At the Town Meeting, the Tarrytown Board of Trustees run through old business while Betty, Francine and Marilyn Farrelly ponder where Henry Francis is. Betty admits she didn't exactly speak to Henry personally when they were told her would attend the meeting, and they wonder if perhaps he simply sent in a letter of support instead. They do notice however that the Board has moved on to New Business and Francine points out that the Reservoir should be on that Agenda. The Mayor, Andrew Johnson, reviews the Agenda and notes she is correct, but jokes to the other Trustees that it is definitely OLD business.

As Marilyn directs the Board to review the two petitions they've provided, Betty notices that Henry Francis has arrived in-person after all. She smiles to see him and he quietly asks if he is late, France and Marilyn also noticing and the latter pointing out they have somebody to speak on their behalf. The trustees are going through the motions of paying heed to what they consider a closed matter until they discover just who that person is. Henry Francis is more than just an advisor to Governor Rockefeller now, he's Rockefeller's Director of Public Relations and Research and he's come on official business to deliver a request on behalf of the Governor's Office itself.

They're in some disbelief that they'd get the attention of the literal Governor of New York('s office), even more-so when Francis explains that further study is needed on whether the quality of the water in the reservoir really is unfit for drinking. The Mayor disputes that, an actual study was done after all, but Francis declares that study was inconclusive and passes over copies for everybody of the Governor's (office's) letter. The Mayor, having no desire to possibly raise the ire of the Governor, agrees that in light of this request they'll suspend the draining of the reservoir for now, and the assembled women applaud happily as Betty mouths a silent thank you to Henry.

In the parking lot after the meeting, Henry walks with Betty and Francine. The latter is gushing over Henry's performance, and he admits that he has no idea just how long any follow-up report on the water would be. But he used an old politics standby: when you have no power... delay! Betty grins widely at this little tidbit, and then her and Francine agree it is about time to head home. Betty inquires if Henry is going to be making a trip up to Albany again tonight, but no he has nowhere else to be tonight.

Francine immediately picks up on this and comes to a quick decision, excusing herself to leave the two of them alone, having zero qualms about the notion that Henry and Betty might benefit from some alone time: after Carlton and her awareness of Don's lengthy absence last year perhaps she just figures every woman should just go for it as they like since the men clearly have no problem with that?

Betty points out her car and Henry is impressed she's driving a Lincoln instead of a station wagon, but she admits she has the latter and only drove this one for good luck tonight: it belonged to her father. She moves to the driver's side door and Henry follows, Francine waving a happy goodbye with a knowing smile. That leaves the two alone and Henry tests the waters, saying he'd love to buy her a coffee but there aren't any places open (having earlier established he only lives 3 miles away). Betty smiles and tells him she appreciates the offer but has to get home, a clear rejection he is surprised and disappointed by but also accepting of.

But when she turns to thank him one more time, he sees another chance. When she offers genuine gratitude for the hard work he did for them to no benefit of his own, he points out that he'll go that extra mile when something is important to him.... or someone. She's no fool and she quickly gets into the driver's seat, but he squats down and leans his head in so she can't close the door, making a pretense of admiring the interior. Betty tries to keep things clearly unromantic, talking about her recently deceased father which should really be a mood-killer. But Henry Francis is somebody who goes the extra mile to get what he wants, and he won't be daunted so easily, trying to sweet-talk her some more by marveling over how happy it made him to see HER happy in the meeting.

Apprehensive, not just because of his relentlessness but because part of her IS very attracted to him, but not wanting to be mean after all he's done (you don't owe anybody poo poo, Betty!) she agrees that he was responsible for making her happy. He takes that as the go-sign, leaning right in and kissing her. She doesn't fight him or resist, but nor does she reciprocate, and when he breaks away she allows herself a tight frown before turning back without a word to the steering wheel and starts up the engine. That tells him everything he needs to know, and he simply stands and offers her a,"Drive safely now" in response to her quiet,"Good night."

She drives away and he's left behind, half-disappointed and half-confused. It's to his credit that he (eventually) got the message, but there's also no getting around there was an expectation on his behalf that he was somehow "owed" for doing what is supposed to be a part of his job.



At home, Done is packing his suitcase for Rome, and smiles when he hears Betty is home. Curiously, rather than ask her directly how the meeting went despite clearly intending to do so, he asks her first if she's seen his Hilton cuff-links and she informs him she caught Bobby playing with them and put them away. She beams a winning smile and NOW he asks her how it went, and she thrills to the fact that they won. She does a little dance and he gives her a hug, but once he can't see her face anymore it falls: she knows she should be happy, but everything has been tainted by Henry kissing her now.

Once apart she hides her upset and asks when he'll be leaving for the airport, and is disappointed to realize he'll be going to the airport straight from work the next evening. Don moves back to her good news, asking if the entire development was killed, and she explains enthusiastically (and with NOTHING to back her up) that the original water study was a lie that was just made up. She casually mentions a "man from the Governor's office" without naming names, and he ordered another study that will take years so they'll probably just move the water tank Newburgh which is "disgusting" anyway.

And there it is. A little "not in my backyard" that probably sat at the core of the whole thing. Maybe the water study was inconclusive and the Town Board just jumped on the chance to make some money from an industrial park? But maybe the study was accurate and the Junior League are more obsessed with how picturesque the reservoir is than the actual real danger it might pose to public health (and you can be sure they'll demand heads roll if that water does cause problems later). Betty just wants ugly things shunted aside to other communities to deal with, while she gets to enjoy the veneer of prettiness her mother taught her was the MOST important thing in the world.

But leaving that aside, she's carefully side-stepped mentioning Henry Francis by name while still telling Don about the "man from the Governor's office", and she even seems to get a little thrill from quoting him directly right to her husband's face by pointing out that when you don't have power you have to delay things.

That night though Betty can't sleep, and finally can take no more and shakes Don awake. Bleary-eyed and confused he assumes he's slept in, but she explains she just wants to tell him something. It's not a confession though, she has decided she does want to go to Rome with him after all... but is it too late? Confused, tired but amenable to the idea since it was his suggestion in the first place, he agrees they can still just go ahead and buy a ticket at the airport when they arrive (oh the 60s). She's pleased, saying Carla can watch the kids for the two days and while she knows he'll be on business the whole time, she just feels the need to get on a plane. Don, who just wants to go back to sleep, doesn't question her sudden desire to get away at all, and certainly doesn't link it with anything that might have happened after the town meeting.

That day at Bonwit Teller, Pete is a stranger in a strange land. He spots a woman passing by a Hermès display (the same brand that Duck used to ingratiate himself with Peggy) and asks for help, and she assumes he is looking for the men's room one floor down. No, he explains, pulling out the dress to show her, weaving a bullshit story about spilling wine on it and getting into hot water with his wife. But his smile turns into a bitter frown when she starts to talk about how anybody could have sewn their store label into the dress, demanding to know if he looks like somebody who would try to pull a scam like that, insisting he'd be more than happy to pay for a replacement.

Quickly she explains that she was going to say that even if they did carry this dress, it's from last season so they probably won't have any left to exchange it with. Well Pete isn't having any of these utterly reasonable explanation! He demands to speak to the manager, complaining that she's clearly no help at all (in his effort to get in the good books of a young German girl who isn't his wife!), waiting impatiently with the stained dress after she beats a quick retreat.

Soon the floor supervisor arrives asking if she can help, and he turns... and finds himself face-to-face with Joan Harris. She keeps her poker-face admirably as she finds her old job and new job colliding, while Pete has no reason to do anything but express his surprise at meeting her there. Offering the information as if it isn't of any import, she breezily lies that she's filling in to help out (help out who? The store? A friend?) and suggests that she's only really doing the job because she gets her pick of the latest fashions before they go out. Luckily the person she met was Pete Campbell so she doesn't have to worry too much about him thinking about anything but himself, in fact all he does is agree it is smart of her to do so.

He shows her the dress, only now considering the slightly extra pickle that Joan is fully aware of WHO he is married to. At first he suggests that Trudy spilled the wine, then cheekily admits he might have been the one doing the spilling, and makes out like the whole thing is a joke and he just wants to exchange or fix this one so he can get out of the ladies dresses department. Joan laughs at this and casts an expert eye over the dress, acknowledging it is definitely their brand but also musing that it seems the wrong size for Trudy, because of course she knows Trudy's dress size too... it was part of her job to know everything about everybody(of import)'s wife or significant other.

Pete is quick to lie that it doesn't fit well but that Trudy loves it in spite of that, but Joan is nothing if not discrete and is quick to write him up a ticket to take to customer service who will fetch him a replacement dress from storage. He offers to pay for it but Joan won't hear it, promising it is taken care of (an easy and sensible offer, after all it is excess from last season, to be fair Mrs. Lawrence probably would have never worn it again) because of course she is keen to keep Pete happy and hopefully avoid anybody else from Sterling Cooper finding out her new situation.

Now that the business is done though, Pete tries to make small talk so it doesn't look like he's just using her for his own gain... and of course so he can get a sense of whether she suspects the dress isn't Trudy's. He asks how she is (twice!) and she makes up her own bullshit about Greg finishing up his Residency and having decided on his own to flit from surgery to a new specialty because that's the kind of thing doctors do all the time! What is he planning on specializing in now? Psychiatry, apparently!

Oh Jesus Christ. Greg?

Finally she passes him the ticket and he "smoothly" (read: obviously) asks her to be discrete should she run into Trudy, as the wine spilling was "fraught with drama" and he doesn't want it brought up again. Joan, who probably suspects this belongs to a mistress/girlfriend etc, of course knows how to keep her mouth shut from a decade of experience keeping the affairs of Sterling Cooper men secret (AND being the other woman in one case), and is hoping for a reciprocal arrangement from Pete though she's too smart to say that out loud, instead simply promising him that "this never happened."

Once Pete is gone though, Joan takes a moment to gather herself. This wasn't where her life was supposed to be now, she was supposed to be done with work and enjoying the life of a socialite wife to a Chief Resident Surgeon. Pete's sudden appearance doesn't just remind her of how this didn't work out, but creates the all too real possibility of others discovering the truth behind the carefully cultivated image of her ultimate success after a decade of dictating to the others exactly what to do when and how to get what she had also been pursuing.



A jet-lagged Don and Betty arrive at the Rome Hilton, which is extremely impressive.... visually at least, Betty complains about the smell of rubber or diesel permeating the air and Don admits there are too many smells about for him to really distinguish one from the other. He's also exhausted, but heads to the front counter to figure out whether they can go to their room or he is meant to met with Connie already etc. While he's gone, she pulls out a cigarette, and is mildly surprised but pleased when a passing man stops to light it for her. He doesn't try to engage her in talk or flirt, he simply does what is considered appropriate in this situation. She offers a,"Grazie" and then really takes in the hotel lobby as she smokes, the glamor and sophistication of the setting, the clothes, the hairstyles... she's in Rome!

They are taken to their room by the bellhop, who compliments Betty warmly on her excellent Italian. She thanks him and compliments the room in turn, and Don - who doesn't speak a lick of Italian - passes over a couple of bucks as a tip, apologizing he hasn't changed his cash yet. The bellhop enthusiastically accepts the tip and assures him that American dollars are just fine, and once he's gone Betty admonishes him: $2 is probably more than he earns in a week, and apparently for her that means it is more appropriate to give him what... a loving quarter as a tip? It's $2, Don's almost a loving millionaire.

However she can't stay upset (over this inconsequential bullshit) for long as she takes in the view of Rome stretching out before them from the hotel window. The phone rings and she answers, surprising Conrad on the other end who was expecting Don to pick up. He's pleased to hear it is Mrs. Draper, whether he knew she was coming or not, Connie preached to Don last episode the importance of keeping reminders of your family with you so he is thrilled Don has brought Betty with him. He tells her he is looking forward to seeing them both tonight, and encourages her to put his staff through their paces and give him a full report. He had considered upping them to a suite, but the whole point is that Don gets to see how this works for most people (those who make $2 a week wouldn't be included), and she of course notes that the room they have is lovely.

He hangs up without ever speaking to Don, and the two settle down onto the bed to catch up on their sleep and try to get acclimatized to the time difference. As the day stretches on, Betty wakes, pours herself some water and puts through a call to the operator and asks (in Italian) for an appointment at a beauty salon... she has plans to make the most of these two days.

Back in America, Francine's kids Ernie and Jessica have joined Sally and Bobby at the Draper household as Carla takes on the extra work to allow Francine to make an emergency meeting. It's the Town Board, they've called a special meeting and she suspects something is up and that she HAS to be there. Carla is happy to have them though, and they share a knowing grin when Francine calls out to her son Ernie that she's leaving and he doesn't respond or acknowledge in any way, too busy having fun to care or notice.

It's evening in Rome, and a near unrecognizable Betty Draper moves confidently to the outdoor seating of a cafe. In a form fitting black dress, wearing a large necklace that runs down to her waist, with hanging ball earring and her hair in an absolutely incredible updo. She takes the seat offered to her by the waiter, and the two men sitting at the table next to hers openly admire her beauty. They pick out immediately that she is American, and the one without a tie tries out his English on her, offering that in Rome it is illegal to drink alone.

"But it is legal to bother a woman?" she responds in Italian, which just impresses and fires them up even more... beautiful, exotic AND she speaks Italian? She's perfect! The man in a tie offers to show her the town which makes his companion scoff, claiming he is not a Roman but a bumpkin. Betty takes the bait, asking where he is from, and he tells her Naples, speaking of how beautiful it is... just like her!

She takes out a cigarette and of course immediate she is offered a light, and she offers her thanks. Things take a cruder turn though when the tieless man (a Rome native it seems) declares he would die of happiness if he was the cigarette in her mouth. He may not have deliberately meant it that way (chances are he did) but the obvious fellatio reference doesn't endear him to her, she complains after a moment that he is not a gentleman.

As she shakes her head though she spots what clearly is a gentleman. Don Draper, fully rested and looking every inch the tall, handsome and well-tailored executive he is, makes his arrival lighting his own cigarette, and takes his seat at the table... opposite hers. Now she is sandwiched between her husband and these two Italians, Don in a playful mood and Betty happy to take part. He orders a whiskey, neat, then stares admiringly at Betty and asks if he can join her. Naples snaps at the "Yankee" to "go home" but Rome shakes his head, pointing out that this man is clearly an American Millionaire, the unspoken inference being that American Millionaires go where they please.

She turns to the two Italians, giving them the chance to argue their case over the American's, and Naples complains that Don is old AND ugly. Don asks if they're making fun of him and she agrees they are... a little bit. So he turns up the charm, staring directly into her eyes and declaring that he is only in Rome for one night and won't have his heart broken. The two Italians are immediately devastated, knowing that they've lost. Rome throws one hand up in despair, Naples rolls his eyes as his face falls... they can't compete with a line like that, not from a guy who looks like Don and clearly has money to boot.

Jerusalem
May 20, 2004

Would you be my new best friends?

Don joins her at the table, and when he tells the waiter which room to charge his bill to and she comments that it is near her room (technically true!) the two Italians truly know they're defeated. They stand and leave, offering a farewell to Betty at least before beating a retreat in search of fresh game.

With them gone, Betty and Don talk a little more openly but still keep up the pretense of being strangers, Betty taking some pleasure in telling him the men said he was ugly, and more pleasure in Don admitting that he was just hoping she would be easy.

The flirtation is ended by the arrival of Conrad Hilton though (the Italians would REALLY despair to see an American Billionaire show up), who like every other man tonight is utterly wowed by Betty's look. He kisses her hand, looks her over and tells Don he is an indecently lucky man. She's thrilled by that too, and they settle in for dinner.

Later that evening Don and Betty return to the hotel room, Betty having been thoroughly charmed by Connie and of course pleased that he clearly sees such great things in Don. It has been a magical evening, and though there is a moment when they first begin to kiss and undress that she feels a moment of unease - a memory of Henry's kiss, surely - that soon fades as she surrenders to the moment. They lower onto the bed, Betty in her lingerie, Don too entranced by her to even fully undress.

There will be no repeat of his failure to perform from their anniversary celebration in a previous season. Tonight isn't about going through the motions, it is about passion. For a moment, a night at least, they aren't just husband and wife but the lovers of their youth. The camera pans away from their embracing bodies to look out over the city at night. Rome is for lovers, and so for tonight at least it belongs to Don and Betty Draper.

In America, a different and thoroughly more innocent relationship is being deepened. Sally and Ernie are sitting in the bathtub playing "grown-up", pretending they are driving in a car. But this isn't the sadly accurate depiction of drunken arguments seen at Sally's birthday party, instead it's a pleasant day's drive and Sally is the doting wife to a debonair husband. Bobby peeks through the door at this roleplaying, watching as Sally asks her "husband" if she is pretty and he shrugs that he guesses so. That's all the invitation she needs, and Sally does what she thinks is the right thing to in this situation, leaning over and kissing Ernie on the cheek.

He recoils, not disgusted but more confused and a little put out, for him kisses on the cheek are probably usually the domain of Aunts he has to suffer through during family visits. But Bobby is thrilled to have seen this display, because it gives him the excuse to burst into song to announce his presence, singing "♪ Sally and Ernie sitting in a tree! K I S S I N G! ♪"

Furious, she launches herself out of the bathtub and chases him into their parents' bedroom, demanding he stop singing. He's giggling as he continues, but when she starts laying in punches with real aggression he shouts out in pain. Carla storms into the room and pulls them apart, and Sally actively lies, claiming that Bobby hit her first and she was just defending herself. That's bullshit of course, and even if it was true she's older and bigger, but an outraged Bobby immediately fires back by revealing she was kissing Ernie (a charitable read on that peck on the check).

Sally screams that isn't true and punches Bobby again, and Carla demands they go to separate rooms, warning them that she won't let Ernie and Jessica come over to play anymore. As Sally leaves the room, she turns to stare at Ernie as she goes, perhaps thinking this is a painful and dramatic moment where two lovers are forced apart. Ernie, who has no loving idea what is going on, just watches her leave with no more emotional weight than he gave to his mother's earlier departure.

Pete arrives at the Lawrences box in hand, knocking at the door. Gudrun opens and stares open-mouthed in disbelief to see the box. Opening it, she can't believe it, the dress has been returned like new, and she pulls it out of the box to stare at it in wonder. Pete happily explains it was returned no questions asked, and she thanks him with naked gratitude, promising him she will never let anything like this happen again. But here comes the rub... Pete declares they should celebrate, asking what she likes to drink, offering to get beer or Riesling or Schnapps in deference to her being German.

Face falling, perhaps having always suspected this might come, she thanks him again and promises him he's very nice... but she has a boyfriend. His own face falling, he pretends like it isn't a big deal and he was only ever happy to help with no ulterior motive. She thanks him again, genuinely, and then offers what she hopes is a reasonable consolation prize, giving him a little peck on the cheek. Unlike Ernie however, he takes this sign of affection entirely too far in the other direction, unable to take his mind from the feel of her lips on his skin after she says good night and closes the door.



Back in his apartment, he stands in the dark (he does this often, sitting in the dark at work) and pours himself a drink, then steps out on the balcony to drink it while looking over the city. Some time passes, his suit jacket removed, and he finds himself out the Lawrences door knocking once more. She opens the door in her house robe, clearly having been woken which he comments on but does not apologize for.

She doesn't know why he's here or what he wants (or doesn't want to admit she knows), but he insists - clearly a few drinks in him - that he went to a lot of trouble to fix her dress and the least he deserves is to see what she looks like wearing it. Poor girl that she is, so scared of causing trouble and sadly telling herself he'll be satisfied with what he is demanding, she agrees to model the dress for him and lets him into the apartment.

Once inside however he doesn't even pretend to let her go through the motions of getting the dress. Instead he closes her bedroom door behind them after she lets him in, looming over her and declaring he'd like to kiss her. She stares up at him, miserable, feeling powerless, and he takes her silence as agreement and leans in and presses his mouth against her, hungrily taking what he feels like he is entitled to.

I'm gonna talk a lot about this later on, because boy loving howdy there is a lot to say.

It's daylight in Rome and Don is enjoying a sleep-in when he hears the phone buzzing. Betty emerges from the shower, her updo gone and replaced with her usual hairstyle now. Don answers the phone and it's Connie of course, surprised that Don hasn't been up for hours already. Don lies that of course he hasn't just been woken, and Connie offers to them both to breakfast. He starts to agree but Betty shakes her head and tells him to stay, and without missing a beat Don explains that Betty just told him she'd already ordered up breakfast.

Connie, who insisted that Don needed reminders of his family, has no problem with a married man enjoying breakfast with his wife instead of a business meeting and tells Don they'll catch up later. They hang up, and Betty joins Don in the bed, enjoying snuggling with him, lying in the sun of a beautiful Roman day, Don admitting that he kind of likes sleeping in this side of the bed, opposite to the side he has at home. They kiss softly for a few moments and she lets out a little disappointed sigh when he says he has to get up. But when he gets into the shower, she takes a moment to enjoy stretching out in the bed, then gets up and follows him into the shower, dropping her towel to enjoy a little more of what they had last night.

It was only ever a two day trip though, and that evening in America they arrive back to their Ossining home, where Carla is waiting with baby Gene to greet them. Carla tells them everything was fine and she's going to collect her things and go, but she has to pause for a moment as she considers before finally deciding she needs to tell Betty about the incident. She settles on saying Betty should talk to Sally who will tell her everything, but Betty insists that since Carla bought it up she needs to elaborate. When she starts to talk about Sally's temper, Don decides to clear out to leave this to the women to discuss, claiming he's going to check the mail.

Alone, Carla tells Betty about Sally kissing Ernie, Bobby teasing Sally, and Sally beating him up as a result. Betty takes it all in, lets it sit for a few seconds then thanks Carla for telling her and assures her it will be fine. They share a grin over the idea that Sally and Bobby might have acted out over missing their mother, Betty saying that would be nice but clearly not believing it anymore than Francine thought Ernie would miss her while she was gone for a couple of hours. Carla leaves, and Sally is left along with little Gene who is too small and undeveloped to cause any problems or concerns beyond the entire predictable hunger and pooping.

Pete is enjoying a "healthy" dinner of scrambled eggs and Scotch when his doorbell rings. Opening the door, he finds himself facing Ed Lawrence from 14C, who asks him if his wife at home and then asks if he can come in. Pete, terrified and trying not to show it, lets him in and asks if he'd like a drink, but Ed is fine, he just wants to know if Pete is aware they have a German Au Pair. Pete of course claims he didn't know, and is taken aback when Ed dismisses that and insists that he is fully aware of who she is.

Pete waits a second, then tosses aside his denial to instead try to argue his case, saying he doesn't know what she said bu... but Ed stops him there, telling him to relax. Horrifically, Ed just smirks and agrees that he knows when the cats are away the mice will play, but he's irritated he just spent one of his precious vacation days refilling Kleenex boxes because his Au Pair has been crying. He doesn't care why she is crying, or what Pete did to her... he just doesn't want to lose the only Au Pair he's been able to find who gets along with his wife. So he wants Pete to stay away, after all there are plenty of nannies out there in the building other than Gudrun... in fact maybe it would be more discrete to just go on the hunt outside of the building entirely?

So Pete apologizes. Not to Gudrun. Not for what he did. He apologizes for putting another man out and screwing up his day off. Ed is all smiles and a pat on the shoulder before leaving while telling him to enjoy the rest of his summer. Pete is left behind looking simultaneously shocked and relieved... and boy loving howdy believe me when I say I have a lot to say about this soon.



In the morning, Bobby plays with a model Pan Am plane in the kitchen while Sally does her homework. Betty tells him to sit down and finish his breakfast, then considers her daughter. She calls for her attention, and warns her that Carla told her about what happened. Sally tries to work through it, like Betty will just forget about it and go if she doesn't react, but it doesn't work like that. Betty warns her and she can't help but complain, feeling like the aggrieved party, insisting she did nothing wrong. Betty isn't having that, snapping at her that she needs to apologize to her brother immediately or Betty will start taking things away.

Sullenly, Betty offers an apology to Bobby who - having probably already forgotten all about the fight - just shrugs and says it is fine as he drinks his juice. Don steps into the kitchen, sighing that Connie had sent over a new package for him to review before they'd even boarded the plane in Rome. He looks over at the kids and asks if they're going swimming, and an unsure Sally - not certain if she is being punished or not - asks Betty if they are. They are, Betty promises, and just like that all the sullenness and bridling at the unfairness of life is gone and everything is great again.

Would that it could be so for Betty. For a moment she shines as she pulls out a cigarette and Don smoothly lights it for her, a shared reminder of the Rome trip that makes her happy. But after he kisses her goodbye and leaves, the mundane nature of the return to reality settles in. She's in the kitchen, wearing nice clothes but far from the sophisticated wardrobe she got to show off in Rome. The vacation was brief but memorable, real life is long and forgettable.

Trudy has returned, her and Pete taking the elevator from the ground floor as Trudy shares funny stories of her vacation. They're joined in the lift by two small red-headed children, who instantly grab Trudy's attention of course. She greets them both but they don't respond, and the return greeting has to come from their nanny.... Gudrun. She spots Pete, bites her tongue and says hello to Trudy before turning away to face the door. Trudy asks if they are having a good summer and the kids don't respond, so Gudrun forces herself to speak again, agreeing that the summer is very nice if very hot.

Back in their apartment, Trudy is happy to see the place so clean, asking if Marta came to clean up or if he kept it like this himself, laughing to herself at the absurdity of Pete doing any housework. Pete isn't sharing in the fun though, muttering he did his best after putting away her luggage. She has her "little bachelor" join her on the couch and begins kissing him, telling him how much she missed him... missed EVERY part of him.

He resists her advances, claiming he has to get to work, but she moans that she doesn't care. She's been away from him for days and she has needs too, but when he still doesn't reciprocate she takes the wrong message, asking him if he's upset from seeing the two children, mentioning how he always looks guilty when he sees kids. She assumes that's because of their failure to conceive, unaware it's actually because Pete now knows he has a kid out there somewhere he will never know.

She promises him that she no longer cares that they (seemingly) can't have children, that she only wants/needs him, she only wants what he wants. He nods, accepting the pure love of his beautiful wife, and when she asks him if he missed her he feels racked with guilt (of a sort) and hangs his head in shame (of a kind). Realizing there is more here going on than she thought, she asks if something is wrong, and like a little boy he can't bring himself to answer, simply sitting there miserable wanting to confess but unable to bring himself to admit to what he did. She can read between the lines though, or at least get the general picture (she'd be revolted if she got the full story), and suddenly her love turns to cold fury. Standing up, she storms out of the room, enraged at the unspoken admission that he was unfaithful to her.

That doesn't even loving begin to scratch the surface of what he was.

Betty finds herself in the living room, staring directly at the fainting couch that was always a reminder of Henry Francis but now is an unwelcome one. Coming to a decision, she calls Sally into the room and silently asks her to sit with her (not on the fainting couch, thankfully). She wants to talk to her about the kiss, saying that while Ernie is a fine little boy she doesn't want Sally running around kissing boys. Sally defends herself (after all, she was sitting down!) but Betty isn't done, explaining firmly that girls don't kiss boys, BOYS kiss girls.

Is this how she justifies letting Henry kiss her? It was something done to her rather than something she allowed (to some degree) to happen?

She explains to her fascinated daughter (Sally craves the attention her parents give her, especially when they don't talk down to her) that the first kiss is very special. This concerns Sally, who points out that she already did it so no it's over. This makes Betty smile, even if she doesn't know the kiss was literally just a peck on the cheek, promising Sally that there will be many "first" kisses to come. She wants Sally to make sure they're special, things to be remembered, because a kiss marks the time you go from a stranger to truly knowing somebody, and every kiss that follows will be a shadow of that first kiss.

She asks Sally if she understands and Sally admits she thinks she does, and that's enough for Betty for now. She sends her off to play, and is left alone in the room considering the men that she knows. Her husband, of course, but what about Henry Francis? How well does she know him now? And will there be shadows of that first kiss to come, or will she only ever have the memory of that first time?



Trudy has made dinner when Pete returns home from work. It's an awkward greeting between them both, Trudy trying to act like nothing has happened as she serves up the salad she made and forces small talk about her day fruit shopping. Pete can't take it anymore though, can't take her tacitly forgiving him (or trying to forget at least), and stops her. She takes a breath and asks him what, and he tells her he doesn't want her to go away without him anymore. Slowly, as if fearing she will recoil, he places his hand on hers. She considers for a few moments, and then simply offers,"Good," and that's that, they are reconciled.

They go back to eating their meals, Pete telling her about his day at work which consists of course of stories of playing about like little kids at school: Paul Kinsey built a "contraption" to fling a water balloon across the office and they filled it with ketchup. Trudy smiles at the thought (what poor secretary had to clean that up?) and they continue on their evening, the picture of domestic bliss.

Betty is cleaning up after the kids' dinner when Francine arrives to drop off $5 (over two weeks pay for that poor bellhop!) for Carla for watching Ernie and Jessica for her. She explains the board called a secret meeting and she suspects the reservoir decision was reversed. Betty is mildly disappointed to hear that but far from outraged like one might expect, and Francine herself seems mostly unconcerned as she asks if Betty did any of the touristy things in Rome, taking the nos as an admission that her and Don were too busy having a "good time".

Francine mentions her and Carlton went on a one week vacation to Lake George shortly after Jessica was born, and it was magical having no kids or responsibilities for that brief time. Betty smiles to hear that, but the smile drops when she hears Francine quietly muse that she should really do it again sometime, suddenly seeing a vision of her own future laid out before her: she only took that Rome trip as a last second decision and they were only there for two days... is that it? Is that the end of the magic of being on holiday and free and clear of the duties and responsibilities of parenthood? Of the chance to be lovers again instead of comfortably married?

Despite Francine thrilling to the thought of Don and Betty screwing like rabbits in Rome, she can't help but tease that continuing the reservoir fight will get her a chance to spend more time with "you-know-who". Betty isn't playing along though, ignoring the reference to Henry to instead declare that she's now "done" with the reservoir fight, they made their stand and that's enough. Francine, the former Secretary and supposedly as committed to the battle as any, doesn't argue the point or express shock, instead pondering how nice it would be to go to Madrid. The utter importance of the reservoir to their community has been forgotten, they've both already moved on probably as the Board of Trustees assumed they would.

Don arrives home, greeting Francine and giving Betty a kiss. Francine can't help but get in a little joke about the sex on their trip before making her exit. She wasn't wrong that they're tired though, and Don and Betty head upstairs to go to bed. Don isn't too tired though, as Betty passes him by as he sits on the side of the bed, he grabs at her hips to pull her into his lap. She resists though, surprising him, and when he asks what is wrong she doesn't hold back: she hates this place, she hates their friends, and she hates this town.

If he is surprised he doesn't show it, nor does he defend their friends, town or their home. Instead he seems almost smug as he assures her they'll go away again, and asks her to go look on her pillow, confident his gift will cheer her up. She looks, and there it is, a souvenir from their trip that he had Connie send over from the Hilton gift-shop: a little coliseum on a chain he wants her to add to her bracelet.

Bitterly she agrees, now she'll have something to look at when she tells their "friends" about the time they went to Rome. She walks into the bathroom without a word, leaving a confused Don behind. More than anybody he should sympathethise with a desire to run away from the comfort of their perfect family home in their perfect little town surrounded by "friends" they secretly despise. But what he can't understand is that Betty Draper has finally reached a point that buying her little gifts isn't going to fill the hole she feels in her life. For two glorious days she remembered a life that was once open to her: being young and beautiful and glamorous, traveling, being admired and adored and drinking in a glory that seemed it would never end. Now she's back to being a (very wealthy) suburban housewife, and the thing she fled from - her dissatisfaction with her life and marriage - never went away. Now, of course, she fears she never will either.



But you know what... forget all that, because I've got some things to say, and I wanna preface it with: gently caress PETE gently caress PETE gently caress YOU PETE gently caress PETE! :argh:

Pete Campbell is a fascinating, ugly, despicable and bizarrely compelling character, and the performance of Vincent Kartheiser is a real treat to watch. But oh my God gently caress Pete. This episode marks a real turning point for my perception of him. I never liked him, but I moved from active distaste to pity to interest thanks to his weird place at a crux point of history, society, race and gender issues.

Here though, in this episode, he crosses a line arguably irrevocably from a piece of poo poo to a monster. Because let's make no bones about it: he raped that poor girl. He would never think of it that way, and the poor girl probably blames herself and thinks she somehow lead him on or deserved it or was in any way a willing participant. This wasn't flirty reluctance, this wasn't playing hard to get, she made it as clear as day that she wasn't interested in him, that she had a boyfriend, that there was to be nothing between them even if she was grateful for what he did with the dress.

How did he react to that? With sullen entitlement. How dare she? He made this offer out of the kindness of his heart and he just wanted to celebrate with a drink and she brings up a boyfriend? How ungrateful! He wasn't making a move on her anyway and even if he was well he went to a lot of trouble the least she could do was let him have a kiss. After all she was wearing that dress showing off her body when they first ran into each other (by accident!) so who is really to blame here!?! When he demands she wear the dress for him, he knew full well he was going in looking for an opening to take what she wouldn't give him. When he kisses her and she doesn't resist, he takes that as enthusiastic consent. But he knows. He loving KNOWS what he did was wrong.

How do we know he knows? Because look at his reaction when Ed Lawrence comes around. He's terrified. He openly lies about knowing her, then tries to attack her credibility by claiming whatever she said happened was a lie. When Ed (horrifically) reveals he doesn't actually give a poo poo about Pete raping her - again, Ed probably thinks of it as sex she regretted the next day, if he puts that much thought into it at all - but just wants him to stop affecting HIS life, Pete isn't relieved or in agreement but just in a state of shock that he almost got caught. He's racked with guilt when Trudy shows up full of love and Gudrun is forced to interact with her in the elevator. He can't admit his infidelity openly because if he did the details would come out and how could he hide that he went back AFTER being rejected to demand she give it up?

Look at Henry Francis, who makes a move on an unwilling (if curious) Betty and then accepts his rejection even if he doesn't quite believe it. Look at the two Italian guys, who beat a retreat when they realize Betty has chosen Don over them. They might be sexually aggressive or pushy, but when they get a no they accept it. Not so Pete, entitled Pete who believes the world should give him what he wants and takes it personally when he doesn't get it. Not Pete, who will use any excuse for why he isn't to blame.

Maybe he'd blame the alcohol? After all he'd had a few before he went back in for more. After all, he was drunk when he showed up uninvited to Peggy's back in episode 1 (and she eagerly accepted him, what would his reaction have been if she'd turned him down?). Or maybe he'd blame Gudrun, for somehow leading him on or sending "mixed signals" that meant he thought she was on offer and somehow in the wrong for "changing" her mind. Or does he blame Trudy? After all that line about not wanting her to go away without him is a quiet suggestion that he only cheated on her because she wasn't there... and remember it was HIS decision not to go away with her to her parents. Maybe he'd blame his parents, for being distant and not preparing him for a world in which he didn't just get everything his own way all the time?

It doesn't matter who or what he'd blame, just that he'd blame anything or anybody but himself. In a show where every character - Pete included - gets a chance to show some nuance and depth that helps explain their actions, Pete joins only one other character as being somebody I just cannot see ever being fully redeemed in my eyes. That other person is Greg Harris, and Pete joins him for the same reason. Both have crossed a line that should never been crossed, and neither has faced any comeuppance for it. Because sadly, just like Joan said, for both Greg in that episode and Pete in this one, as far as they're concerned "this never happened."



gently caress Pete Campbell.

Episode Index

GoutPatrol
Oct 17, 2009

*Stupid Babby*

Yay its the Rome episode!

Oh wait, it is also that episode.

There have been alot of convos about the Au Pair in previous Mad Men threads. I want to say that from those threads, Matt Weiner said that on the page the scene was written differently than what ended up shot, but I can't find anything like that through a google search. Going back to read the AVclub and Sepinwall takes on what happened and the comments - you have many different voices on what happened.

Sepinwall

quote:

Pete lets himself unravel when Trudy's not around and he has nothing to do and no one to stroke his ego. He's drinking more, blacking out on the couch, looking at times like a cross between a little boy (particularly eating cereal on the couch as he watches "Davey & Goliath") and a feral animal.

I don't know that he sets out to take advantage of Gudrun. Again, Peter Campbell is in constant need of outside approval, and in the au pair he sees a chance to play the hero and be profusely thanked for it. But then the thanks come, and they're not enough, particularly when combined with still more booze. And so he goes back, wolf-ish, to get what he wants.

Keith Phipps

quote:

What happens between Gudrun and Pete? The camera cuts away from the scene in which they kiss, rather than lingering on it before pulling away to the skyline, as it does with Don and Betty. But we know this: She, at best, entertains mixed feelings about his advances. At worst, she complies as a way of offering a path of least resistance to an inevitable destination. She’s a woman caught in a situation that leaves her little power and whatever goes on between them compels her to empty Kleenex boxes the next day.

Pete presses his advantage without seeming to recognize the ugliness of his actions. (I think whether what happens can be called rape remains an open question thanks to that cutaway.) When his neighbor shows up the next day to give him a warning, it comes more out of annoyance of having to give up a “precious vacation day” than any moral impulse. One of the themes of this episode—and the show in general, for that matter—is the way the social codes of the day indirectly acknowledge sex and indiscretions. Francine knows there’s something buzzing between Henry and Betty and how Betty and Don spent their Roman holiday. Pete’s neighbor knows how men behave when their wives leave town.

Tom and Lorenzo

quote:

Upon presenting the grateful au pair with her replacement dress we see what a little poo poo Pete Campbell can really be, showing up later, drunk, and forcing the poor girl into sex with him. If that wasn’t disturbing enough, then the scene with his neighbor that basically came down to “Hey, we’re neighbors. Let’s not rape my nanny, okay? Keep it out of the building.” sealed the deal.

Time

quote:

The story of Pete’s summer fling, while more elliptical, is in a way more interesting for how it played out. Maybe I’m the only one, but I was actually surprised when Pete’s encounter with the au pair turned sexual. Initially, it seems as if Pete is simply lonely and at loose ends, looking for a project and some type of connection.

When Pete ends up pressing himself on the au pair—showing up drunk and saying he’s earned a fashion show for his efforts—he seems to be coming full circle to the creepily aggressive Pete we saw persist his way into Peggy’s apartment after his bachelor party. But this time we’re seeing his behavior within the full context of everything else we know about him: how it grows out of an intense social awkwardness that seems to get worse the harder he works at it. (See his encounter with Joan at Bonwit Teller, in which he nervously asks her how she’s doing after he’s already asked once and gotten a response.)

Pete’s social ungainliness can make him unlikeable in his behavior, but on the other hand, it leaves him totally unsuited for a Draper-like double life. He’s a bad actor, but he’s also a bad liar–he lacks the social facility. He lasts all of thirty seconds in front of Trudy before all but confessing his infidelity.

Huffpost

quote:

Pete, of course, having done the decent thing, can’t play the nice guy who charms the au pair. After an initial polite rebuff, in which the girl lets on that she has a boyfriend, and more than a few drinks, Pete shows up to claim his reward for being a nice guy. Which he gets. It’s creepy, but it doesn’t look like a rape. More like an immigrant girl not wanting to make waves.

But she does end up making waves. In an excellent scene, Pete’s neighbor comes to by to discuss the matter. Cutting through Pete’s lame attempts to deflect, he tells him the girl is very upset and he should stay away from her as she’s a nice girl and good nannies are hard to come by. “Man, at least look outside the building!” he exclaims in some amazement about Pete’s stupidity.

https://www.amc.com/shows/mad-men/videos/inside-episode-308-mad-men-souvenir--11454 - I can't watch due to region blocking now.

I think only Tom and Lorenzo nail it, and they have a pretty tasteless joke for it. These takes would not be there in 2021.

The one that sticks out to me is comparing what happened here to what happened with Peggy in the pilot. Very similar circumstances, a drunk Pete, and now you know what would have happened if Peggy said no.

spoiler for later seasons
Yeah, this is the worst of Pete, not even the electroshock stuff is worse than this

sebmojo
Oct 23, 2010


Legit Cyberpunk









quote:

She wants Sally to make sure they're special, things to be remembered, because a kiss marks the time you go from a stranger to truly knowing somebody, and every kiss that follows will be a shadow of that first kiss.

this is very on point for the ep

Yoshi Wins
Jul 14, 2013

GoutPatrol posted:

There have been alot of convos about the Au Pair in previous Mad Men threads. I want to say that from those threads, Matt Weiner said that on the page the scene was written differently than what ended up shot, but I can't find anything like that through a google search. Going back to read the AVclub and Sepinwall takes on what happened and the comments - you have many different voices on what happened.

Sepinwall

Keith Phipps

Tom and Lorenzo

Time

Huffpost

Thanks for these excerpts. I'm surprised so many commentators shied away or even directly denied calling it rape. I've always considered it completely unequivocal, like Jerusalem. I think it's as unequivocal as Greg's rape of Joan. Kind of disappointing, honestly. Yes, things have changed since this episode aired, and I wasn't watching Mad Men yet by then, but I did start watching it around the time season 5 aired, which was still pre-#MeToo, and it just seemed so obvious that we were supposed to understand that Pete raped her. Maybe some of them just wanted to be able to sympathize with a character that they know they'll continue to see frequently. Or perhaps that's being generous.

I decided I needed to put this part behind spoiler tags, because I think it will make the subsequent developments of the Betty/Henry storyline too obvious.

I found myself disagreeing with basically everything Jerusalem thought about Henry and Betty's kiss--especially Betty's reaction to it. I think Betty freezes up for largely the same reasons that Don hesitated and confessed he was married after kissing Rachel Menken: She knows she feels something for this man, and it's scary to not know where that will lead.

I agree with sebmojo that Betty's line about the power of a first kiss is critical to this episode. Betty wouldn't say that about a kiss where her primary reaction was disappointment at a man making an unwanted move on her. Despite the fact that she didn't respond passionately, that moment was electric for Betty. Betty's nervous rambling to Don about the reservoir meeting also suggests that she has butterflies in her stomach.

That bit Betty says to Sally about boys kissing girls, not the other way around, is also important. Betty was meticulously trained by her mother to conform to the gender expectations of the time. Henry grew up with those same expectations. Henry would expect Betty not to clearly display sexual interest in him, because women at the time (well, hell, this still happens today, albeit less often) were overwhelmingly shamed as "loose women" (or worse) for doing so much as flirting with a man. He kisses her because he desires her, but the kiss is also what lets him know where he stands. Which is a BAD loving SYSTEM, because it incentivizes men to just assume that women want them sexually and to act accordingly! But it really was the system at the time.

But even after the kiss, Henry doesn't know exactly where he stands. Betty's body language is ambiguous. For the most part, she holds back. She doesn't move her arms or change her posture to lean into it. But she's not completely passive either. She does kiss him back a bit, if you watch her lips. She grasps Henry's lips with her own a couple times. This mixture suggests that she wants him and is feeling the spark of romance in this kiss, but she is holding herself back from allowing herself to get swept away by it. She is caught between warring desires. Is she thinking that she wants to stay together for the kids? Is she thinking that she's not like Don, and she won't allow herself to have an affair? I lean toward the latter.

Finally, I don't agree that Henry acts like he's "owed" anything by Betty. He wants her, and he sees if she will have him, but that's not the same thing as being entitled. Ultimately, he accepts it when she makes it clear it will go no further. He is disappointed but doesn't get angry or complain. He just seems to be thinking, "drat. Maybe it's not going to happen after all." And Jerusalem is quite right to contrast this with Pete's reaction to being turned down by Gudrun. That is surely a deliberate parallel.

JethroMcB
Jan 23, 2004

We're normal now.
We love your family.

GoutPatrol posted:

There have been alot of convos about the Au Pair in previous Mad Men threads. I want to say that from those threads, Matt Weiner said that on the page the scene was written differently than what ended up shot, but I can't find anything like that through a google search.

If that were the case (and I very much doubt that it is,) there would have to be failures at multiple levels in the production. There's really no other way to read what happens in that room between those two, even if we don't see it happen in explicit detail.

quote:

spoiler for later seasons
Yeah, this is the worst of Pete, not even the electroshock stuff is worse than this

Wait, how would "the electroshock stuff" be worse? That's a consensual fling that Pete does chase but doesn't push like he does here; it's her shitbag husband who decides the best way to deal with his "moody" wife is sending her to the looney bin (which we learn he's done more than a few times before.)

The only things that approach this level of odiousness for Pete in my mind are how he immediately entertains Herb's "demands" for Jaguar and how he deals with Joan, or when he tells Trudy about the circumstances that resulted in her father cancelling Vick's business with SCDP - and still, neither of those even approach the grossness of "outright sexual assault."

Yoshi Wins
Jul 14, 2013

JethroMcB posted:

If that were the case (and I very much doubt that it is,) there would have to be failures at multiple levels in the production. There's really no other way to read what happens in that room between those two, even if we don't see it happen in explicit detail.


The only things that approach this level of odiousness for Pete in my mind are how he immediately entertains Herb's "demands" for Jaguar and how he deals with Joan, or when he tells Trudy about the circumstances that resulted in her father cancelling Vick's business with SCDP - and still, neither of those even approach the grossness of "outright sexual assault."

Those are odious indeed. One other thing worth mentioning is when he's attending driver's ed and is clearly trying to sleep with a girl in high school.

Ed: This part doesn't need to be spoiled. PETE SUCKS.

Ed 2: VVV Wow! I'd never heard about this before. VVV

Yoshi Wins fucked around with this message at 18:27 on Apr 2, 2021

ANOTHER SCORCHER
Aug 12, 2018

JethroMcB posted:

If that were the case (and I very much doubt that it is,) there would have to be failures at multiple levels in the production. There's really no other way to read what happens in that room between those two, even if we don't see it happen in explicit detail.

This does not change what happened on screen, but supposedly the scene as written had the au pair be more clearly affirmative in responding to Pete's advances. It should not really matter since he is blackmailing her into sex anyway, but Pete's actor, Vincent Kartheiser (who probably has a lot of sympathy for the character he plays), said this in 2010:

2010 Wall Street Journal article posted:

In an outburst that started at his table, then turned loud enough to engage the other diners, he insisted that Pete never forced himself onto his neighbor's au pair in season three's "Souvenir" episode.

"It says in the scene, 'she kisses him back,' " he said. "After she kisses me back, then we're supposed to copulate. I don't know why but she wouldn't kiss me back!"

He added: "That actress just didn't want to smooch me. She changed the whole course of Pete Campbell. And Matthew [Weiner] was all, 'You didn't rape her! I don't know why people are saying you raped her! That wasn't supposed to be rape!'"

I find it tempting to believe the scene was written that way, largely because it is hard to enjoy any of Pete's later character development given how unforgivable rape is. But as presented on screen it is pretty clearly rape by coercion. At least Greg is never presented as anything but pathetic, and eventually gets confronted about what he did to Joan.

ANOTHER SCORCHER fucked around with this message at 20:21 on Apr 2, 2021

Shimrra Jamaane
Aug 10, 2007

Obscure to all except those well-versed in Yuuzhan Vong lore.
Game of Thrones allegedly accidentally filmed a rape scene and while it seemed ridiculous at the time the way things unraveled with the writers by the end of the series I now believe it.

Crespolini
Mar 9, 2014

Shimrra Jamaane posted:

Game of Thrones allegedly accidentally filmed a rape scene and while it seemed ridiculous at the time the way things unraveled with the writers by the end of the series I now believe it.

The show writers were by all accounts very stupid, but I still never understood how one changes dialogue from "yes yes" to "no no" by accident.

Xealot
Nov 25, 2002

Showdown in the Galaxy Era.

ANOTHER SCORCHER posted:

This does not change what happened on screen, but supposedly the scene as written had the au pair be more clearly affirmative in responding to Pete's advances. It should not really matter since he is blackmailing her into sex anyway, but Pete's actor, Vincent Kartheiser (who probably has a lot of sympathy for the character he plays), said this in 2010:

I hadn't heard this. The episode works so much better the way it is, because obviously this au pair doesn't want to gently caress this weird 30-something neighbor. And it completely tracks as something Pete would do, his entitlement and frustration playing out viciously onto some powerless girl who has no recourse. "I'm a Nice Guy! I did her a favor! What a grand, romantic overture that was, and how rude this brat of a girl is being by rebuffing me!"

You see elements of this same MO later with Pete. [S5] In "Signal 30," a major theme is Pete's feelings of masculine entitlement and inadequacy. He feels he deserves female attention and admiration, deserves to feel sexually powerful, and resents the world for denying him that. He feels emasculated by Don at his dinner party, is literally pummeled by Lane in the office. He imagines himself a cool, dashing older man in his Driver's Ed class only to have reality - that he's not Handsome enough - set things straight. But what's his fantasy? "You're my King." He has a wife and a family and a home and a good job...but despite all of that, "I have nothing."

I'm psyched Jerusalem is here, because yeah: gently caress Pete Campbell. He's a toxic little poo poo. I mean, he's an interesting and well-conceived character, compelling to watch, but just reprehensible. This is definitely one of the worst things he does, but the fact that's debatable is perhaps the worst part.

Shimrra Jamaane
Aug 10, 2007

Obscure to all except those well-versed in Yuuzhan Vong lore.
END OF SERIES SPOILERS

So what will be the takes of Pete arguably having the happiest ending out of anyone except maybe Joan?

Yoshi Wins
Jul 14, 2013

I do think he's grown as a person by the end of the series, but I still don't have any confidence that his new appreciation for being a family man will last. I think Trudy makes a mistake by taking him back.

Shimrra Jamaane
Aug 10, 2007

Obscure to all except those well-versed in Yuuzhan Vong lore.

Yoshi Wins posted:

I do think he's grown as a person by the end of the series, but I still don't have any confidence that his new appreciation for being a family man will last. I think Trudy makes a mistake by taking him back.

Oh I absolutely believe he grew as a person and I actually think he’ll be ok going forward. Remember the series ends in 1970 and it’s still just 1963 so a lot of time is still to pass. But my main point is whether a rapist deserves to grow as a person and live happily ever after as a better man without once being held accountable for what he did. Probably not right? But that’s what happens and IMO the show makes it pretty clear you should feel happy for him.

The Klowner
Apr 20, 2019

by Jeffrey of YOSPOS
Even as written it's extremely problematic. Like even if the actress did play along and presented her character as willing, how is that supposed to look like anything else to the viewer but a man of status forcing himself on a disenfranchised woman? It's a huge misstep on Weiner's part if he believes the scene as written isn't toxic just because she appeared to want it originally. Whether or not Weiner professes it to not be capital-R Rape, the scenario is just ugly from every angle.

I actually completely forgot about Pete's plot in this episode on my latest rewatch a few months ago and was pretty shocked about how unambiguously it's presented as rape. It definitely colored things differently for me as far as Pete was concerned this most recent time around.

The Klowner fucked around with this message at 23:42 on Apr 2, 2021

The Klowner
Apr 20, 2019

by Jeffrey of YOSPOS

Shimrra Jamaane posted:

Oh I absolutely believe he grew as a person and I actually think he’ll be ok going forward. Remember the series ends in 1970 and it’s still just 1963 so a lot of time is still to pass. But my main point is whether a rapist deserves to grow as a person and live happily ever after as a better man without once being held accountable for what he did. Probably not right? But that’s what happens and IMO the show makes it pretty clear you should feel happy for him.

Harry Crane, who basically becomes Harvey Weinstein by the end of the series, also presumably gets a happy ending. I think Weiner has very little faith in society, especially professional circles, to hold these kinds of men to account. That said I think Jerusalem is going to very much enjoy watching Jared Harris punch Pete's lights out.

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JethroMcB
Jan 23, 2004

We're normal now.
We love your family.

The Klowner posted:

Even as written it's extremely problematic. Like even if the actress did play along and presented her character as willing, how is that supposed to look like anything else to the viewer but a man of status forcing himself on a disenfranchised woman? It's a huge misstep on Weiner's part if he believes the scene as written isn't toxic just because she appeared to want it originally. Whether or not Weiner professes it to not be capital-R Rape, the scenario is just ugly from every angle.

I actually completely forgot about Pete's plot in this episode on my latest rewatch a few months ago and was pretty shocked about how unambiguously it's presented as rape. It definitely colored things differently for me as far as Pete was concerned this most recent time around.

Yeah, in that telling it still only goes from outright rape to "Pete Campbell merely exercising a position of extreme power to 'seduce' a hesitant young woman." It's no longer explicitly a criminal act, but it's still morally repugnant.

(Of course, given Weiner's [ALLEGED] track record with women who work for him, you can get how he'd read the scene differently...)

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