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do the 2017 Twin Peaks
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Sep 1, 2022 07:57
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Oh my God Duck  https://i.imgur.com/wLKckdt.mp4
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Sep 1, 2022 11:37
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Season 7, Episode 13 - The Milk and Honey Route Written by Carly Wray & Matthew Weiner, Directed by Matthew Weiner Betty Francis posted:I've learned to believe people when they tell you it's over. Don drives through the night, listening to Merle Haggard on the car radio, evidently the only music around. As he drives, he hears the faint sound of a siren and spots the lights of a police car in his rear-view mirror. Pulling over, Don braces himself, winding down the window when the unseen officer raps on his window. The officer orders him to hand over his license and registration AND tell him what he was doing, and a frustrated Don - pointedly not looking - grumps that he was driving. His usual truculent authoritative demeanor has no impact on the cop though, who snaps at him not to get smart and warns him they've been looking for him. Finally turning his head, reluctant to show his face, Don insists there has been a mistake, and gets blasted by the beam from the flashlight directly in his face. "You knew we'd catch up with you eventually," warns the unseen, faceless, symbol of THEY that Don has been fearing on some level every day since he woke up in that hospital bed in Korea. Don stares up into the light, his face illuminated, and then turns his head back and lets it sink down in despaired resignation. It's over, the moment of truth has finally come, and noth- -he wakes in bed, the sound of a passing truck on the road outside his motel room pulling him from his nightmare. Sweaty and troubled, he looks around bleary-eyed at the strange place in an unidentified part of America. Apparently his road trip has continued after his failure in Racine, but as always Don is learning that you can run away all you want, but wherever you go... there you'll be. In Cos Cobb, Pete has sat Tammy up on the kitchen counter as he prepares to put toothpaste on a bee sting she has received on her wrist, having failed to find baking soda. Tammy is more intrigued than hurt, clutching her hurt wrist but happily curious that daddy is going to smear toothpaste on it, not understanding how that could possibly help. Tammy arrives home with a friend, Sherry, surprised to see Pete and Tammy back already. "I got stinged!" offers Tammy helpfully, and Trudy moves to check on her, Tammy further explaining that daddy put toothpaste on her arm! "You're none the worse for wear," Pete points out with a smile, after explaining they were up at Lyman Orchards but thankfully it seems she isn't allergic. Sherry offers that she is, but the conversation falls flat as Pete offers to take Tammy (and Trudy?) to lunch regardless as he still has an hour. When Trudy instead says Tammy should probably lie down for a bit, he seems a little at a loss how to proceed, Sherry not offering anything but a blank face. So he simply says his goodbye to Tammy, telling "Wonder Woman" that he'll take her to Friendly's on Thursday. He takes his leave, and Trudy sends Tammy into the next room to lie down. As she starts unloading the basket of apples she has brought home, Sherry - a divorcee herself or just doing the typical "My husband is a dope!" thing? - notes that whenever Bill has the kids a disaster happens. Trudy isn't worried about the bee sting though, those things happens, more put out by the fact that in spite of everything she does every day for Tammy, all she ever hears about are the things daddy does despite (because of, clearly) only seeing him every Thursday and Sunday. Trying to compliment her friend, Sherry notes how good it is that Trudy hasn't poisoned Tammy against her father. This has the opposite intended effect though, as Trudy notes sourly that she's sure Sherry would do the same thing for the good of her children AND assume her friends wouldn't remind her of her ex's flaws all the time! Sherry quickly apologizes, Trudy quickly forgives her, and they move on with their day.   That evening in his motel room, Don chats on the phone with Sally, getting caught up on what is going on with her at school. It's typical father-daughter stuff, he's a little bothered that she has backed out of playing field hockey AFTER he bought her expensive equipment, he wants to make sure she is still going on the school trip to Spain, he asks about the weather etc. She in turn asks him about his ongoing road-trip, sharing jokes about Wyoming (it had a two-headed cow.... and not much else!) and gently teasing him when he starts off on a boring explanation of his planned route through Kansas.He ends the call because he wants to call the boys in Rye before it gets too late, and even when he gently admonishes her once again to sell her sports equipment and she snaps that she said she would, there is no real anger behind it, and she actually quickly gets control of herself to offer a quiet farewell, and he promises to call her again the next week. They each hang up, and something truly startling is apparent, something largely lacking through the last 7 seasons of this show. Don seems relaxed. He's drinking a Coors (not Miller!) but he doesn't appear to be even slightly buzzed. This isn't the drunken, sloppy relaxation from his weekends drinking with Betty in Ossining. This isn't his slightly delirious happiness from the early days of his marriage to Megan. Or the settled professional fugue he'd go into when obsessing over work. This is just... Don being relaxed. Despite his nightmare, this appears to be the most stress free we've ever really seen him. He's just vibing on his motel bed. He's engaged with his children in a way he rarely has been. He's driving the country, seeing the sights, not really doing anything or having anywhere to go, and he's actually in some ways more involved in his family's life than when he was living with them or at least somewhat nearby. Monday morning comes, and Betty Francis attends what is presumably the first day of her adult education career, climbing the steps of her College on her way to class. But oddly, despite the fact she's still a relatively young woman, she seems to be struggling to make it up the same stairs that her much younger fellow students easily bound up on their way to class. One handsome young man pauses to ask if she is lost, and she explains she is a student too. A little surprised but not rude, he tells her he'll see her around and starts up the stairs again. She makes to follow, but only makes it up two or three before she suddenly falls forward with a startled squawk and slams into the steps. Students quickly gather around, including the handsome young man who insists people give her room, asking if she is hurt. "Just my pride, new shoes," gasps Betty by way of explanation. But new shoes surely only explains so much, and while she's slim she's never actually been one for lots of exercise... but surely she can walk up some stairs? It isn't that much of an imposition on a healthy woman who is still quite some distance from old age? But when the gathered students start to offer hands to help her up, she is still out of breath, simply asking for a little more time to regather her disturbingly low level of strength. In Manhattan, Pete arrives for work at McCann, surprised but not displeased when Herman "Duck" Philips joins him in the elevator. Spotting that Duck has hit the button for the top floor, he's intrigued and in the mood for gossip: if he's seeing the top brass, it can only mean he's been hired as a consultant to find a replacement for Don Draper, right? "I've done it before," notes Duck, in reference to his success replacing Don (temporarily) with Lou Avery at SC&P. But as they continue the ride in silence, it's suddenly Duck who wants some gossip, quietly asking Pete if it is true Don walked away from at least a couple million dollars that was still due to him for the SC&P sale. Pete, quite wisely, chooses not to answer that, simply noting it was nice to see him as he arrives at his own floor. To his surprise though, Duck follows him out, saying he wants to ask him something. As they stride down the corridors, he notes Pete's already easy familiarity with the corridors of McCann, the clear deference he is shown as employees he greets by name as they pass etc. Duck points out it has only been a month and he's already the "mayor", and Pete agrees McCann - where he once feared to go - has been very accommodating, especially given he convinced Burger Chef to return to the Agency they left for SC&P in the first place... and ESPECIALLY because he managed to convince Avon to stay after Joan "cashed in". I bet Ferg didn't show any interest in being on that Account once Pete was on it, odd that! Presumably Pete is unaware of the true story behind Joan's departure, but even if he is it doesn't seem to bother him. After all, HE is doing great, he doesn't mind sharing a bit of gossip of a different sort to Duck's earlier question: there have been rumors that Pete might even end up on the Coca Cola Account, the Holy Grail of Advertising that Don Draper walked away from. But the friendly atmosphere starts to fade as Pete realizes that Duck doesn't intend to ask him a question UNTIL they're in his office. Getting a little chillier, he demands to know what Duck wants, and makes a point of telling his secretary that Duck will only be a moment with him. Closing the door to his (spacious!) office behind him, he hisses at Duck to hurry up, understanding that a Hiring Consultant like Duck showing up at his office is going to create the impression Pete is looking to leave. Given Joan and Don's departures, even Pete's own obvious success might not blunt that impression. More troubling, Duck launches himself straight at Pete's drinks cabinet, having apparently fallen off the wagon once again. He asks if Pete minds, but he's probably drink regardless of the answer. Insisting that your employer should ALWAYS think you're unhappy, Duck promises that what he's doing won't impact Pete, in fact it might help him. It seems he's been trying to land a private flight company to handle all their hiring for them, but they're currently reviewing all their business so nothing can proceed. That however made Duck realize a meeting with a Vice President at McCann could be a win-win for everybody: Pete can extol McCann's qualities while also pushing the idea of Duck being the perfect guy to find them a new in-house marketing manager. Reminding Pete that he gave him his services for free after the SCDP & CGC merger and this was rewarded by Pete sending Peggy to "Gerald What's-his-name" when she was looking for work, he claims that Pete owes him. Pete retorts that he's probably more than paid that debt in the business they've done since then (presumably he played some part in Duck getting the gig to find Don's replacement at SC&P), either unaware or unwilling to bring up that Peggy wouldn't have gone to Duck in a million years for career advice. But when Duck, looking pathetic, moans that he just needs this ONE Account to help get him through the Winter, he relents and agrees to at least take the dinner. Did.... did Duck show up at the McCann building and lie in ambush for Pete? If he was actually meeting with Jim Hobart to find a replacement for Don Draper there'd be no way he was this desperate. He just pushed that top floor button and let Pete fill in the blanks without ever outright agreeing or stating he was here on official business? In any case, excited by Pete's acquiescence, Duck gives him the relevant details: Mike Sherman from Wichita who recently moved to Philly and graduated from Princeton in 1952, which should give him and Pete plenty to discuss! "I'm Dartmouth, '56!" snaps Pete grumpily, and Duck growls that he knows that... but he's sure Pete and Mike will "jack each other off" over their Ivy League credentials! Pete's had enough now, he's agreed to the favor but he is wary of having Duck in his office any longer for fear of what news might spread. Opening the door to his office, he bellows for his secretary Sarah, explaining far too loudly that Duck convinced him to make a donation to Lincoln Center. Duck passes him the fact sheet for the airline and leaves, Pete slamming the door in Sarah's face, in a bad mood with the day barely already started. It's a favor for a   Don continues his road-trip, having left Kansas (home of Learjet!) and now in Oklahoma, listening to KOMA 1520 on the radio. But suddenly his Cadillac's engine splutters, shudders and then dies. He pulls over to the side of the road as the DJ declares what a beautiful sunny day it is, stuck here now till he can walk or at least flag down a passing car to drive him to the nearest payphone to call for a pickup. As an aside, curious that he went as far as Wyoming before apparently circling around and driving down to Kansas and now on to Oklahoma.... is he avoiding California? Is he returning (slowly) to New York? Betty Francis, meanwhile, waits impatiently in the doctor's office at the College. A nurse explains to "Mrs. Robinson" that Dr. Buckley will be with her shortly, and when Betty notes her name is Mrs. Francis, learns that the boys who helped bring her there called her "Mrs. Robinson". Amused and a little flattered, Betty explains they were making a joke. Dr. Buckley arrives and asks for the nurse to excuse them, and once she is gone asks Betty if she could call her husband and ask him to join them. Confused as to why they'd go to those lengths, she points out that she can drive just fine with a broken rib, in fact it doesn't even hurt that badly. But Buckley warns it may be something more than "just" a broken rib she is suffering from. When she asks what that means, he hesitates for a moment and then simply tells her she can use the phone at the Nurse's station to make the call. It's not exactly the best bedside manner, the most charitable reading would be that he simply wants somebody there with her when he gives her the news.... but if the idea is to prevent anxiety or concern it's having the opposite effect. In some ways this feels like a regression to season 1 when the diagnosis of a woman's health was apparently information to be given to her husband rather than herself. Shortly after, Betty waits silently in the car as Henry slams himself into the driver's seat, apparently in a fury, declaring that he can't believe "That quack" scared her like that, insisting he's going to sue them and look into their funding, apparently ready to take some kind of petty revenge. Betty simply asks what will happen to her car now, and Henry - who of course came up in his own - says they'll leave it here and he'll send his secretary to collect it tomorrow morning. But as he ponders his next steps, insisting dramatically that he's going to put a call directly through to "Rocky's" office, Betty simply states firmly that she wants to go home. Getting over his own temper tantrum, Henry takes a moment to get her attention, promising her that she'll be fine.... until she reaches for a cigarette and he suddenly grabs the entire packet from her, crushing them in his hand and tossing them into the backseat. They leave, Betty's diagnosis left unstated. The easiest answer would be that she is unexpectedly pregnant again, but that wouldn't explain the seeming fury and desperation to reach out to as high as the Governor's office from Henry and Betty's own stone-like response to the news. A tow truck arrives at a motel, Don stepping out of the passenger seat before it continues on. Carrying only a Sears bag stuffed with his essentials, Don steps into the office where the owner greets him, explaining that Wyatt from the Service Station called ahead and they've already got "our best" prepared for him. Don signs in at the register, deciding to pay a day at a time rather than for the full week, betting that the Cadillac didn't "throw a rod" and it's just the rocker arm that needs repair. The owner's wife, Sharon, enters the office, greeting Don as her husband proudly proclaims that she is the hotel's namesake: The Sharon Motel. A sweet looking middle-aged woman, she offers him some leftover roast for dinner when she learns he doesn't have a car to get the two miles up the road to the diner. He tells her he doesn't want to be a bother, he'll make do with the vending machines, and he can carry his own luggage since it is just the Sears Bag. Collecting his change from his first daily payment and the key to his room, Don heads out for the first night of what he hopes will be a brief stay at the Sharon Motel. In New York that evening, a much more high-priced meal appears to be left half-eaten as Mike Sherman and Pete Campbell "jack each other off" as promised. They're full of praise for the other, enjoying their playful conversation based on similar upbringings: they went to the "right" schools and come from the "right" families. Pete follows up on Duck's pleading, offering to Mike to being based in Kansas hasn't stopped giving Learjet a sophisticated reputation thanks to their Hollywood clientele... but that this is the problem, they've limited their customer base. Concurring with Duck's assessment, Pete stresses that Learjet needs a Senior Marketing Executive, somebody who can sell Corporate Executives on the benefits of private luxury jet travel. If they do that, it would dramatically increase their client base and as a result McCann-Erickson would be chomping at the bit to sign them as a client as well, which would benefit everybody. Mike is impressed, but a little confused... he can't tell if Pete is advocating for himself or his Agency? Confused himself, Pete notes that they're one and the same, and the penny only drops when Mike starts talking about how Pete can only work for McCann or Learjet and not both: Duck has tricked him into a job interview. He admits as much to Mike, who seems amused but not all that surprised, saying he expects Duck to lie to him when setting things up in order to get the best results, but not to the guy who he is trying to get hired! Insisting he is flattered but not interested in leaving McCann, Pete still can't help but appreciate Mike singing his praises as he notes that he's exactly the right kind of man they'd want for the Senior Marketing Role: a guy from the right background and family, somebody at ease with and familiar to Corporate Executives, who can tap his school ring on the table and make everybody immediately feel at ease that he is "one of them". In other words, like Duck said, it's the old boys' network ensuring everybody is looking out for everybody else in "the club", a club that Duck obviously feels like an outsider to. Satisfied that Pete isn't interested, Mike has no trouble commenting that they can just enjoy the rest of the evening, since it was good make this networking connection regardless. Pete agrees, it is never a mistake to meet another like-minded executive, and cheekily he offers to get them both brandy, pointing out that he's going to make sure it is Duck who pays for this whole meal after pulling a fast one like this. It'd be charming if it wasn't a couple of hyper-privileged upper-class snobs enjoying luxury only available to them and yet that they themselves never have to pay for!   Presumably the next day, as promised Henry has taken Betty to see another doctor. The news there is no better however, and now we get a sense of what the diagnosis was as the first thing we see if an x-ray of her chest, and in particular her lungs. This doctor is open and communicative, explaining the cancer has already spread from the lung and metastasized in the bones and to the lymph nodes in the mediastinum. A shell-shocked Betty simply sits, the words rolling off of her as the doctor continues to explain it all... which doesn't matter anyway, because like Dr. Buckley he isn't actually talking to her, he's talking to Henry. She sits across the room from them, neither of them looking at her, discussing this amongst themselves, the doctor offering his sincere apologies and commiserations... to Henry. Henry asks what "we" do next but what he's really asking is what does HE do next? What decisions does HE make? How does HE deal with this? Betty seems almost an afterthought, left alone with her own thoughts as these two men discuss her body and her sickness. Her cancer. The doctor offers the best treatment options he can... but they're holding actions only. He makes no bones about that, apologetic but firm in his diagnosis: at best she has 9 months to a year left to live, the treatment will be palliative only, to make those final months as least painful and suffering as they can. But there is no cure, no pathway to fixing her. The cancer has already spread too far. She is going to die. She is going to die and there is nothing that he, we, or she can do about it. Blissfully unaware of the cruel fate just delivered to his ex-wife on the same day she was set to finally start on the path to achieving her dream of bettering herself, Don sits in his motel room reading The Godfather by Mario Puzo, a bestseller already heavily into production on a feature film version. Suddenly the door to his room opens and a young man walks in, freezing when he sees him and apologizing, pointing out he should have put the Do Not Disturb sign up to avoid this happening. Noting the cleaning trolley behind him and the uniform style shirt the young man is wearing, Don asks if he is the maid. "And the messenger," he grins, passing Don a note and telling him the contents before he can even read it, hopefully because he was the one who took the message and not because he just casually read the contents: Don was right about the rocker arm, but the replacement part needs to come from Tulsa, so it'll be a little longer yet. With a sigh, Don looks at the remaining pages of The Godfather and says he'll need another book in that case. The young man shrugs, apparently those aren't in ready supply, as he suggests that Don maybe go for a swim instead since the chlorine would have "killed the piss" in the pool by now. Oddly enough not tempted by this pitch, Don asks what else there is to do around here, and there isn't much on offer there either: there's football at the high school on Friday night, revival Church every night and a drive-in up at Fairview... which he can't use because he doesn't have a car. So Don settles on the one thing he often jumps to when bored: booze. He asks where to get a drink and the young man notes that this might be difficult, but with cash he might be able to rustle something up. Don peels some cash out of his wallet and the young man introduces himself as Andy, offering to clean the room now since he's here. Don introduces himself too but says he can clean tomorrow, and then returns to reading his book as Andy makes his exit. Either finishing his book or deciding to string it out as long as he can, Don decides to chance the supposedly now piss-free pool (now there's a tagline for the Sharon Motel!). Heading out to poolside, he spots another of the distractions he usually hunts up when bored back in New York, another of the vices he had managed to set aside while on the move enjoying his road-trip but now clawing at him again once he'd stopped in place: women. Or woman, to be precise. An attractive young woman lies sunbathing at poolside, Don's eyes trailing down her sun-kissed body, smooth tanned (and oiled) skin as she lays apparently dozing, an open copy of The Woman of Rome laying on her belly. But as he eyes her up, he hears a voice call out followed by the delighted squeals of two young children that gets her attention. Don turns to look too, realizing that the young woman is a wife and mother, that in fact Don is one of those "lazy millionaires hanging out by the pool" he warned Betty about when she wanted to wear a two piece to the pool with the kids. Luckily he hadn't approached her, and wasn't too obviously leering at her. He gives a nod to her husband as if he just happened to be pausing before diving in, the husband nodding back but paying him no more mind as he instead noisily drags one of the deck loungers across the concrete to set in place beside his wife. Don dives into the pool, sharing it but obviously keeping his distance from the kids, who were probably drawn irresistibly to the water in an urge to correct nature's imbalance and put more piss in the pool. The choice of book is interesting. The Woman in Rome could simply be a reference (coincidental or otherwise) of his brief trip to Rome where Betty completely recreated herself and became an entirely different, more actualized and alluring (to Don especially) person. But the book's themes are around existentialism and feelings of alienation, no strangers to Don Draper in this series and particularly in these last couple of episodes. The next day in New York at Grand Central Station, a confident (buzzed?) Duck Phillips has stuffed himself into a phone booth to call Pete Campbell and demand he come down and meet him. Pete is all smiles in his office but also unmoved as he insists he won't meet him and jokes that after all the bullshit he just went through he hopes they at least wanted to give that "lousy job". They did, Duck insists, and it wasn't lousy... they haven't even begun negotiating yet and the offer on the table is already 100k a year, all benefits, unlimited private jet travel... he can have lunch in New York and be home in time for dinner! Pete points out that he doesn't have to worry about that because he already lives in New York! He makes to hang up, this was amusing but it's also time to put it to bed... except Duck isn't quite done yet. He insists that Pete come and have dinner with Mike, there is one other candidate for the job and if Pete and his wife comes to dinner it will turn it into a horse race and guarantee a bigger commission for Duck (he's not struggling as much as he pretended, perhaps, but he's also still clearly desperate), and it'll benefit Pete too since obviously Learjet would be a get for McCann once they've expanded their client-base. But as Pete notes, he has no wife AND he has 4 years left on a contract with McCann with a million dollars contingent on his ongoing employment there. That just encourages Duck more, who points out that Pete just told him there IS a price where he'd be willing to consider the offer. He insists that there is no issue if Pete doesn't actually want the job, since both himself and Pete have told Mike this now, so this can just be a nice dinner that they can enjoy with the knowledge it will pay dividends for them all in some way down the road. Setting the date and time for the coming Saturday, Duck tells Pete to meet him at the Grill Room at the Four Seasons and hangs up, he can say Trudy is under the weather! This leaves Pete caught in a conundrum: he didn't say yes but he also didn't say no (well, not to THAT specific request), so is he now caught by social niceties into having to attend? In Rye, Betty brushes her hair in the bathroom mirror, wincing when Henry suddenly comes walking in clutching a yellow legal pad and racing his way through "their" options. He's identified two doctors he wants her to see, one who is currently conducting a study on a potential treatment, the other a surgeon who is very aggressive about getting in and removing as much of the tumor as possible. He's irritated by her lack of reaction to these options, snapping at her to stop brushing her hair, pointing out her rib won't heal if she keeps moving her arm like that. Betty snaps back that her rib isn't GOING to heal at all, and when he complains that he's let her be in shock long enough and asks how Nelson Rockefeller would react if HE got her diagnosis, is stunned when she immediately shouts back a bleak but obvious truth,"He'd die!" Taken aback, he insists that she keep it down so the kids don't hear, what does she want them to think? She growls back at him that she wants them to think what SHE tells them when SHE decides to tell them, wresting some degree of agency back into her life. Henry, who of course is racing around doing all this because he feels powerless and is in shock himself, desperately trying to take control of an uncontrollable situation, tells her that she is being morose, reminding her that she is a lucky woman and has been her entire life. The intent is to convince her that if she undertakes one of the experimental treatments, she could be one of the lucky few who ends up in remission, but she's unmoved. She also isn't going to engage with him on this, because she's told him her feelings and she isn't going to argue them with him. She returns to brushing her hair, and unable to bear the silence and unable to simply sit and do nothing, Henry gets up and strides out of the room, desperate to burn off the excess energy, still convinced there must be SOMETHING he can do to fix this just like he's been able to fix everything else in his life.   In Oklahoma, fresh out of the pool Don notes the two books that have been left on his bed, presumably by Andy: The Andromeda Strain by Michael Crichton and Hawaii by James Michener. A gentle knock at the door gets his attention and he opens to let Andy in, who has brought him the booze he requested. But when Don thanks him for the books and reaches for the drink, Andy requests $10 on top of the $10 Don already gave him, insisting that he had to walk into town to get it and he has flat feet. Disbelieving that he's going to pay $20 for a likely cheap brand of whiskey, Don nonetheless fetches the extra cash, since the alternative would be.... not drinking? They make the exchange, and now Don has the drink hospitality insists that he offer Andy a drink regardless of this low-level scam. Andy declines though, saying as a 1/8th Comanche he can't touch liquor. Pouring himself a drink, Don asks if his folks are aware of the cons he's pulling working at the hotel, seemingly presuming Sharon and her husband are Andy's parents. They live elsewhere though, and Andy insists with a good-natured grin that it isn't their business how he gets "rich". Don actually agrees with that, identifying perhaps with Andy to some degree as he remembers his own desperate need to escape that saw him sign up for Korea and eventually pull a giant con of his own and take over the life of the real Don Draper. Curious, Andy asks how he got rich, and Don explains he WAS in advertising. I can only assume he never actually bothered to officially quit, and in fact hasn't been in touch with anybody at McCann, but at this point everybody seems to know and even if he wanted to go back - which it doesn't seem he does - it's unlikely he could. He's burned that bridge, and so far he couldn't be happier. Andy is impressed, so he made commercials like they have on television? "Lots of them," agrees Don, and when Andy asks if he made enough that he doesn't need to work "no more" Don only corrects him to say he doesn't need to work "anymore". Andy accepts this grammar correction well enough, but seems to sense they've exhausted the amount of conversation either is willing or capable of right now, so he reminds Don he's around if needed and takes his leave. Don, quite wisely after Andy held him up for more cash and just showed a perhaps too keen interest in how rich Don is, makes sure to lock the motel door behind him. Thursday night comes and Pete carries a conked out Tammy to bed. As Trudy undoes her shoes, she reminds Pete not to forget the pie that Tammy made for him. Pete quietly leaves, but pauses in the doorway to watch his ex-wife putting their daughter to bed, considering not for the first time what he ruined for himself in pursuit of... what? The empty gratification of sleeping around on her? To what end? It must all seem so stupid to him now. In Oklahoma, Don is content watching television in his motel room, drinking whiskey with ice until suddenly the television shorts out. Robbed of his only entertainment outside of the books he is trying to space out, Don approaches and gives it a wack, hoping in vain to knock something back into place and magically get it up and working again. When that fails, he pops into the motel office, where he finds Sharon fidgeting with a typewriter. She promises him she will collect him a new television as soon as she is done "fighting this battle" with the typewriter. Don takes a look, motioning to her to ask silently if he can have an attempt. She steps aside and he quickly and expertly resets it, and when she notes that she's done this before but it keeps coming loose, he feeds in a piece of paper and quickly writes The Quick Brown Fox Jumps Over the Lazy Dog before doing a carriage return, demonstrating that his long years of use of a typewriter have taught him a thing or two. Impressed by the speed of his typing, she notes HE is the quick brown fox and asks if he learned to type in the Army? At Night School, he corrects, a little confused by why she keeps pressing when she asks if he was in the service, confirming that he was. She explains that every veteran who likes drinking will be at the Legion Hall on Saturday, and her husband would be tickled if he was to join them there, and she'd appreciate it too, because it will give him somebody new to tell his war stories to! Surprised, Don asks why he didn't ask him himself, and she admits that he would have once he saw the chance, but she just decided to preempt it. When Don points out he might be gone by Saturday, she lets him know that Wyatt will definitely fix his car, though he will overcharge him for it... but she still wants him to keep it in mind. With that done, she fetches her keys and takes him to collect a new television so he can get back to relaxing. Pete is also very relaxed, enjoying the buy Tammy made him (presumably with considerable help from Trudy) in the kitchen of the Cos Cobb home. When the lights suddenly turn out, he calls out a hello, and a surprised Trudy turns the lights back on and steps in the kitchen, having naturally assumed that Pete had left, after all she did tell him to take the pie with him, not to settle in and eat it there in the house. She reminds him the entire pie was for him, not just a slice, but does join him happily enough when he asks her to share some with him, letting him know they actually made TWO pies and she won't tell him what happened to the other (either it was a disaster or Tammy was a little greedy guts  ). Once she's sat down though, Pete launches right into asking her for a favor, insisting that he'll pay her back by taking Tammy for an entire weekend and allowing her to get away on a trip somewhere.Guard up but curious, she asks him what it is, but immediately shuts him down when he says he wants her to join him for dinner for a client he is pursuing. She reminds him that, thankfully, this is no longer one of her "obligations", and when Pete teases that she used to love trying to help him close a deal over coffee at the end of a client dinner she insists she was just trying to stay awake. Turning on all his oily charm, Pete insists that she was the only one who ever really truly understood his business (the business of client dinners, rather, that it wasn't just entirely an excuse for a meal you could expense), and when she still declines he smiles broadly and gently offers that they could do it "for old time's sake". A range of emotions pass over Trudy's face in a moment (lovely work from the often underrated Alison Brie), caught between amusement, anger, disbelief and yes just the tiniest hint of longing. Quickly regaining control, she smiles in disbelief and notes that she is jealous of his ability to be sentimental about the past, because she can't do that... she remembers things as they were. With a nod, Pete drinks his milk, trying not to show (and failing) just how uncomfortable her unsaid reminder of his various infidelities has left him. When she points out it is late and she wants to turn out the light, he nods and awkwardly stands and lets himself out. He leaves the pie behind, and she doesn't point it out, keen for him to be gone. Once he is, she's left sitting at the table, an old wound freshly exposed, a pleasant end to a pleasant evening soured by him having to take things just a step too far and cause her to remind them both about just why there have to be boundaries between them.   At Miss Porter's, Sally and her roommate return to their room where the latter lets out a squeal of fright to discover a middle-aged man in their room. When she sees Sally is confused but not frightened, she takes the cue and steps out when the man asks her to leave him and the 16/17-year-old girl alone in her room, Sally giving her the nod okay. The man, of course, is Henry Francis. He asks her to take a seat on her bed and, too confused by his unexpected presence to put on your usual acts of defiance, she does as she is told. Henry calmly, carefully explains that he has serious and bad news, and takes a seat behind her before he just puts it all out there: her mother is sick with very advanced lung cancer. For a moment Sally just sits, and then she regresses to childhood, literally slapping her hands over her ears in an attempt to block/deny the words she has just heard from penetrating her skull. Henry, still calm and collected, offers a quiet and sincere apology both for having to tell her but also for the news itself. Hands still on her ears, Sally can hear him nonetheless, and in a near panic declares she has to call her mother. But Henry stops her, saying Betty doesn't want her or the other kids to know. Still calm and authoritative, in control, Henry explains that he is telling Sally anyway in spite of this, because there is still a hope that Betty could have more time. Frantic for any semblance of hope, Sally declares this is good, left even more disorientated when Henry explains that her mother is refusing the treatment that might help her, and he doesn't know if it is out of stubbornness or vanity. Completely out of her element, Sally can only gasp that her ears are still buzzing, that she has no idea what Henry is actually telling her or why. So he admits the truth, he is hear breaching his own wife's confidence, because Sally is the only person he knows who might be able to get through to Betty and convince her to undertake the treatment. Tossed into the deep end, only minutes earlier gleefully sharing gossip with a friend, Sally admits she wouldn't know what to say. Her nose screws up, eyes watering, trying to stop herself from bursting into tears, and kindly Henry starts to remind her that it is okay to cry.... and the the dam bursts and HE is the one who breaks down sobbing. All his motion, his action, his arguing, all of it has been to distract himself from the horrifying sudden reality of learning his wife is months from death. Sally is horrified, she has no idea how to react. She's probably never seen an adult male, and certainly not a father figure, break down into open sobbing like this before. Hell, even her own father when she caught him with Sylvia only got teary eyed but never actually cried (and not in front of her). She sits stunned beside him, finally just timidly reaching out and rubbing a gentle circle on his back, hesitantly offering what comfort she can. "Jesus, what am I going to do?" exclaims Henry, the sobbing slowed but the tears still coming, the full enormity of Betty's fate no longer able to be denied. In Oklahoma, Don drives up to the front office of the Sharon Motel, his car now fixed and his road trip ready to resume. The motel's owner is reading the paper on the front verandah, and when Don steps up and tells him it's time to settle up, he asks him if he is sure he won't join them at the Legion Hall tonight? Don notes uneasily he should be going, but the owner insists, pointing out he knows Don has nowhere to go given he just spent six nights at the motel and only used the phone twice. When Don still doesn't seem all that keen, the owner throws in a sweetener: join them tonight and he'll throw in the room for free, plus another extra if he helps him repair the coke machine behind him. Confused by that, Don points out that Coca Cola will repair these machines. But that's the problem, the owner explains, they don't want to fix it, they want to replace it with a new one, and he likes this one. Given Don correctly guessed what was wrong with his car, and helped Sharon fix the typewriter, he suspects Don can fix these two. He leaves to collect his tools, taking it as a given that Don will accept, Don kind of powerless to do anything else given he can't leave till he pays the bill. So instead he eyes up the coke machine, an older model with the ancient but serviceable "Have a Coke" tagline emblazoned on the side, perhaps contemplating the irony of leaving McCann before he ever got a chance to "fix" Coca Cola and now here in Oklahoma.... fixing Coca Cola! In Rye, Sally is pulling lunch out of the oven for a waiting Gene and Bobby when Henry returns, declaring he brought a surprise with him: Sally. She steps awkwardly into the doorway, none of her usual attitude present, staring nervously at her mother and offering a weak smile. Betty, no fool, glares at them both and then simply strides out of the kitchen, furious at Henry for ignoring her wishes AND telling Sally something that Betty wanted to tell her in her own time... if at all. Sally tries to step into her way, perhaps for a hug, perhaps in an effort to force a conversation. But Betty just moves right past her, Henry following calling after her, leaving Bobby to ask his sister why she's there. Sally of course lies, saying she get into trouble at school again, a believable fiction, though she simply says she doesn't want to talk about it when an excited Bobby presses for more details. Instead she sits at the table and has Gene come over to sit in her lap, giving him a kiss. Bobby drinks his milk, unsure if he's supposed to eat without anybody giving him permission, blissfully unaware of the drama going on and his mother's impending doom.  
Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 14:48 on Sep 1, 2022 |
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Sep 1, 2022 13:52
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That evening Don arrives at the Legion Hall, convinced against his better judgement to join the Oklahoma veterans. The place is pretty packed, but he stands out right away, one of the younger men there amongst what are predominantly World War 2 veterans. The motel owner spots him right away, walking over to greet him, admitting only now that he did have a slightly dishonest reason for inviting him. Guard already up, Don carefully notes,"Okay?" and seems almost relieved when he learns tonight is a fundraiser for Al Bettendorf, whose kitchen recently burned down. If it's just a matter of money, that he can manage, and he forks over a $20 bill for the "fine jar". Seeming almost pained to do so, his host points out that he will be getting Don's drinks tonight, and Don takes the cue and hands over another $20. "$40 from Don!" he announces happily to the room, who applaud and cheer, Don forcing a smile and a wave, hating being the center of attention, wishing he could disappear into the furniture or that he'd just gone with his first instinct and left earlier in the day. His host asks where he served and what his rank was, and the former is easy enough to answer, he was 7th Infantry in Korea. He hesitates slightly when asked his rank though, because now he has to actively lie, saying he was a Lieutenant which is only technically true. Don Draper was a Lieutenant, but of course when he was in Korea he was NOT Don Draper. His host bellows out his rank and where he served, and one veteran jokes,"poo poo, we should be paying him!" which gets a big laugh, as well as a reminder that the offender now owes $5 to the swear jar! In New York, in a far less boisterous setting, Pete Campbell is having dinner... with his brother Bud! No he hasn't invited Bud along to be his "wife" at the Four Seasons, instead he's just taken his brother out for dinner and ignored Duck's "invitation" entirely. Bud is only having the shrimp cocktail, causing them both to laugh when Pete reminds them of one of their late mother's "encouragements" that Bud isn't THAT fat! It's funny because they abandoned their mother's corpse in the ocean and let what may potentially have been her murderer get away scot-free to save some cash! Bud explains "something came up", irritating Pete who points out that it can't have come up between him asking him to dinner and now. He complains that Bud always goes on about how they never see each other, now Pete has missed an important meeting JUST to see him and "something came up"? When Bud offers a knowing smile and promises it was short notice, Pete easily reads between the lines, teasing his brother a little by noting he'll need to come out and ask him if he wants to use this dinner as an alibi for what is obviously an affair. "Please?" giggles Bud, and with that the two brothers simply put the infidelity aside so Pete can concentrate on what really matters to him: him! He asks Bud how you can know when something is REALLY an opportunity, and Bud misinterprets this as a question about sleeping around, smirking that sometimes you get it wrong but for the most part the girls are very forward nowadays. Yeah, I bet they're just lining up for such a powerful manly specimen as Bud Campbell. Pete clarifies that he means career opportunities, and Bud simply shrugs and says in banking you just stick on the road you're on and it gets you where you need to go. This confuses Pete, Bud's job is to assess risk, so surely he has advice for assessing risk in regards to career moves? But that's not an issue for Bud either, because he doesn't buy or sell anything, he simply distributes what comes to him. Basically, his job simply requires him to exist, and that's... that's it! But of course, Pete is looking for answers, so he goes back to Bud's original misconception, noting that he's taking a risk in his "short notice" thing tonight. Bud grumbles that now Pete is obviously jealous and trying to ruin his night, and Pete offers a rather cruel observation that may also be the most insightful thing he has ever said. "Your wife knows." He doesn't mean possibly, or theoretically. He means that Judy KNOWS that Bud is sleeping around with other women... and now that Bud knows that, how does that make him feel? Bud of course tries to justify this, claiming that Judy has always appreciated that other women find him attractive and he can't simply turn that off, gesturing to his less than impressive physique and looks. That's not enough for Pete though, which is part of the problem... because he simply can't understand why they - meaning himself and Bud - always want something more? Why are they always looking for more than the excess they already have? He doesn't mean specifically sleeping around, of course, though that's part of it, because obviously he's also found himself thinking more and more about that Learjet offer he made a point of avoiding dinner for tonight. Still relatively young despite his receding hairline, Pete is a massive success: Vice President at the largest Advertising Agency in the world, well respected, highly paid, a millionaire with a million more to come on top of his high salary, being groomed for prestigious accounts like Coca Cola.... and yet here he is barely a month in and already considering the Learjet offer. Why? "Because dad was like that," shrugs Bud, and for a stunned moment Pete is quiet before admitting that he really was. He recalls as a child seeing his father at the polo grounds complain about a jeweler who had openly thanked him for purchasing an expensive diamond necklace, canceling the sale and muttering that the man was "indiscreet". Lil' Petey Campbell of course looked the strange word up, and that was his first inkling that his father was out and about looking for more than just his wife. For Bud it was even simpler, he just saw the way women looked at their father and how their father looked at them. That memory of course makes him realize that if it was that obvious to even a child, then how obviously must his own infidelity be to Judy? Pained, he asks Pete if he really thinks she knows, and Pete simply offers back that "it" is fun.... until it isn't. Miserably, Bud says he has to make a call. Immediately regretting "ruining" his brother's fun, given he really did just want to talk careers, Pete tells him to ignore what he said about Judy, but the thrill of his little rendezvous has turned into paranoia, so Bud leaves to cancel his plans, now intending to have dinner with Pete and then return home early. That leaves Pete alone at the table, pondering if knowing this about himself will change his own unending desire to always want more.   At the Legion Hall in Oklahoma, everybody is a few (or more) drinks in, and Don is being introduced to his fellow veterans and their roles in the small town of Alva. Like Wayne, who runs the drugstore now because it used to be run by.... Wayne's dad! One of the other veterans asks Don if he was in Europe (he's very well preserved if so!) and is reminded again that Don served in Korea, and he complains that Don hasn't said anything so he wouldn't know. But it does remind him there is another Korean Veteran there, and bellows out for "Jerry Fandango" to join them. Don immediately tenses up, especially when his host helpfully offers that maybe Don met this guy before when they were both over there, an unlikely scenario that Don still dreads... after all, he once ran into one of Dick Whitman's platoon mates on a train out of Ossining. A brawny man appears, introduced as Gerald Fanning as they explain that Don was also in Korea. Gerald is interested, of course, though Don quickly - making a point of not looking directly at Gerald - states that he doesn't want to talk about it. But Fanning is already launching into his own typical introduction, announcing him as Jerry Fanning, Private First Class, 34th Infantry... and he wants to see Don's face. So carefully, Don shakes the offered hand and slowly turns his face towards Jerry's, dreading an unlikely spark of recognition, a delighted or confused cry of,"DICKY WHITMAN!?!" followed by questions and queries he cannot possibly answer. But thankfully, the statistics are on Don's side, neither of them have ever seen the other before, and Don carefully notes he was in Korea before it was called a "war", stationed near the Yalu River. Jerry winces, either because he's heard of rough action by Yalu or just because he's disappointed they don't have any other common frame of reference beyond Korea itself. He explains he didn't arrive till Christmas of 1953, and a slightly more comfortable Don notes he was home by then, offering Jerry a seat, no longer living in fear of exposure. Jerry declines, he already has a seat at a table elsewhere, but he offers one final line that Don clearly agrees with: Korea? They can keep it. He returns to his seat, the lights going down and a spotlight coming up as a cake is wheeled out and then out bursts a stripper, albeit an older, heavier-set one than you might expect in the places Don would normally frequent. There are hoots and hollers from the veterans though, excited by the show, Don allowing himself to relax, enjoying his drink, more pleased by the delight of the other veterans than interested in the stripper. Jerry was a moment of danger that has passed, and now he can simply enjoy himself again. Pete and Bud's dinner has ended and Pete has returned home, drinking and watching television where he's disturbed by a sudden hammering at his apartment door. He answers, checking the peephole firt and irritated to see it's Duck Phillips on the other side of the door demanding to know why he was "stood up". Pete opens the door and hauls hims inside, disgusted, reminding him angrily that he never said he would actually attend the dinner. Duck disagrees though, insisting he did, which resulted in Mike Sherman and his wife Charlene sitting alone in the Four Seasons for an hour. Smelling the booze on his breath and the sway as he stands, Pete complains that Duck is drunk... but also carefully notes that he's also being rather menacing in the way he is swaying so close to Pete himself. He doesn't know that Duck "killed 17 men in Okinawa!" but he's also probably aware that Duck is much bigger than him, and he hasn't exactly had the best track record in fistfights. But to first his surprise, then his horror, he listens as Duck happily insists he's not drunk but happy... because Pete is on a streak! On the upwards trend! Like one of those graphs that goes up and up! What does that mean? It means that when Mike Sherman called Duck furious at being stood up, Duck improvised and said Pete was insulted by Learjet's offer (!).... and Learjet immediately improved it. Company car, company plane, a massive signing bonus, stock options that get him close to the million dollars he's owed by McCann PLUS the knowledge that McCann will pay out the rest in their eagerness to close this deal too. That confuses Pete even more, and he's aghast when Duck explains that it is Learjet's clients who are the "asset" McCann is interested, not so much Learjet themselves... and Jim Hobart is very excited about getting an inside man there. Yes, Duck hasn't just lied to Pete to get him to a job interview. He hasn't just lied to Mike to make him think that Pete was interested in the job. He has apparently gone so far as to straight up tell Jim Hobart that he's representing Pete, that Pete wants the job at Learjet, and orchestrated Pete's move to an entirely different company all without ever actually running ANY of it past him! This isn't an example of Pete being unable to resist going for more... this is an example of more suddenly being dumped in Pete's lap while he was actively trying to avoid it! “You stupid wino!” gasps Pete, because of course for all he knows all of this is in Duck’s head or hosed up perception, and all he’s actually managed to accomplish is to insult Mike Sherman AND make Jim Hobart think Pete is trying to escape McCann just like Don and Joan did. When Duck enthusiastically asks him who is going to win the World Series and a confused Pete says he doesn’t know, Duck slaps his hands onto his shoulder and gleefully roars,”YOU ARE!” Pete shoves him out the door, disgusted and horrified and scared.... and Duck pauses for a moment, sober for a second, offering a very real warning. He’s been where Pete is right now himself, he too was once on a hot streak of career success.... and it doesn’t last forever, or even for long. The advice is clear, and seems to penetrate Pete’s long-standing paranoia for a moment: if he doesn’t take this opportunity now, he may regret it later, and find himself stuck in a position that is great now but might not seem so a year or two or four down the track when he is longer the hot new kid on the block. The effect is slightly undercut by Duck following up this line with a moment of clear confusion trying to figure out how to navigate himself out of the corridor, bringing to mind his confused realization from season 4 that he was trying to take a vengeance poo poo in the wrong office, but then the door is closed and he’s gone, and all that is left is for Pete to ponder the drunken wisdom of a man who has always rated him as somebody with a future, but who has hosed up his own career in spectacular ways in the meantime.   At the Legion Hall, things have settled down and only a few (very) drunk veterans are left seated at the tables. One of these of course is Don’s, Jerry having joined them now, all of them cackling at racist jokes about Japanese doctors. They raise a toast to Don, not only for being generous but for also not talking too much, appreciating the fact he isn’t a blabbermouth. Don, sharing a nod with Andy as he comes by cleaning up some of the empty bottles, simply notes that he doesn’t know all that many jokes. But Jerry offers a piece of wisdom, unwanted as it may be... in this place, you don’t get to say that you “don’t want to talk about it”. That’s the accepted practice with outsiders perhaps, but not here among fellow veterans, the only people that might understand what it was like to be in war. Jerry yells to get the attention of the older man who first summoned him earlier - Floyd - waking him from a drunken stupor at the table to insist he tell the story of Hurtgen Forest. Floyd looks less than enthused, asking them to buy him a drink, but they insist he tell the story first. Screwing up his resolve, clearly not wanting to talk but following the adage that you don’t get to not, Floyd asks if Don even knows where Hurtgen is. It’s on the border between Belgium and Germany, the host offers, and Floyd tells the tale. He and eight other soldiers were cut off, 6 of them dying and only three left when they came across a Nazi machine gun nest. The four soldiers inside immediately surrendered, and Wayne speaks up to remind Floyd to mention that they were starving. “WE were starving” corrects Floyd, and the idea of adding four more mouths to their party, hostile ones inside hostile territory cut off from the rest of their platoon? So what did they do? “You did what you had to do,” Wayne insists, placing a comforting hand on Floyd’s arm, but now a fascinated Don needs to know the rest of the story, what DID they do? “Someone made them start digging,” explains Floyd quietly, and then they “bounced” them one at a time, a process that took a couple of hours. At one point one of the prisoners ran, so skinny his pants fell down. The ghost of a smile crosses Floyd’s face at that, not because he finds it funny but because he knows in any other situation it would have been, but he doesn’t find it funny now and he probably didn’t then either, and he knows nobody at the table does either. “You just do what you have to do to come home,” the host offers, a phrase that strikes a chord with the drunken Don, his normally solid steel guards down for one of the few times in his adult life. He remembers what he did to get home too, something he’s only told three other people before, one by force, two by choice, people he shared the strongest and tightest of possible bonds with. “I killed my CO,” he gasps out to these strangers. They all stare, surprised but none of them saying anything. Now that Don has let it out, it all comes out... his only lies ones of omission. He never mentions that he was Dick Whitman and his CO was Don Draper, because it isn’t relevant. He isn’t even thinking of that in this moment, the confession pouring out of him is an utterly accurate recounting of what happened, because though they’re his audience, what he’s really doing is allowing himself to finally speak about it openly. So he talks about coming under fire from the North Koreans. The fuel everywhere, his shuddering attempts to light a cigarette and how he dropped his lighter into the flammable liquid. The explosion, his CO’s instant death..... “And I got to go home.” “That’s the name of the game,” Jerry says quietly, placing a hand on Don’s shoulder, and just like that.... he’s accepted. Because what they said was true, none of them are there to judge, but they insist on openness. All of them served, all of them understand on some level the horrible things you can and will find yourself doing all in order to get out of the horrible place you never truly understood what you were getting into in the first place. Floyd killing prisoners, Don killing his CO, they’re all variations of the same story: scared young men who just wanted to live and get home, no matter what it took. Whether that excuses or justifies in any way what they did is another matter entirely. But the whole point is that this social gathering is to avoid all that and just give them a safe space where they can tell people who understand the things they’re too horrified or tormented by to tell anybody else. Feeling hollowed out by his own confession, knowing Don is too, Floyd calls for Andy to bring them another drink. “Over here!” bellows Wayne, and inspiration strikes. He begins singing a variation of Over There, everybody else joining in, Don - relief washing over him, a poison temporarily excised from his body (judging by Floyd, the relief never lasts too long) - enthusiastically taking part too, thankful that he agreed to attend this gathering after all in spite of his reservations.  Sally is lying in bed when the sound of her door opening gets her attention. Her mother stands in the light spilling in from the corridor, asking if she woke her, and Sally tells her she didn’t. Betty turns on the lamp and takes a seat on the bed, noting that Henry shouldn’t have scared her the way he did, promising that she was going to tell her herself. Some of her old fire having returned after the shock of learning of her mother’s condition, Sally offers that Henry doesn’t understand Betty won’t get treatment because she “loves the tragedy”, an accusation that Betty - who has taken some benefit from her psychology readings it seems - sets aside without concern, knowing her daughter is lashing out for understandable reasons. She offers her own reasoning, a simple fact that when people tell you it’s over you believe them, because it’s the kind of thing they DON’T want to say... if it’s come to a point where two doctors both have no choice but to tell their patient(‘s husband) that there is no chance of survival, then she has to accept that reality. Yes, she agrees that Henry is right that she could have another year... but what would that be like? Sally points out that SHE will be there for her, and despite all their many problems over the last few years, Betty agrees that she knows she would be... if Betty would let her. But the fact is, she watched her own mother die, and it’s a horror she doesn’t want to perpetuate on her own child. Sally is horrified, the calmly fatalistic attitude of her mother nothing like the Betty she is used to. Betty though appears serene, insisting that she isn’t quitting, she just knows when it is time to move on. She’s fought for plenty in her life, leaving unsaid that one of those things was ending the marriage, a breakup that Sally never really got over and which damaged their relationship for many years. She passes Sally an envelope, explaining it is instructions for what needs to happen when she does die, because she knows Henry will be too broken up to be thinking clearly... but she can rely on Sally herself to keep her wits about her. It’s an astonishing amount of responsibility and pressure to put on a young girl, and Sally’s first reaction is a quiet, revolted,”No.” But Betty insists, and more than that she wants Sally going back to Miss Porter’s tomorrow, the longer she stays the more chance that the boys realize something is wrong, risk finding out, and upsetting them in a way she won’t be able to reason them through like with Henry and Sally. Turning off the light, she tells her daughter to go back to sleep and leaves the bedroom. Sally sits alone in the dark, clutching an envelope with instructions on how to handle affairs after Betty’s death. Her mother’s attitude, much like the veterans in the Legion Hall, entirely designed around the idea of what is necessary rather than what is necessarily right. Betty is ensuring her own Agency in how she handles her impending death, but while it is HER death and she has ever right to decide how to face it, it is Henry and Sally (and an unsuspected Bobby and Gene) who will be left in the aftermath to deal with it... and Sally who is being asked to return to the sanctuary she fled to to escape her parents, denying her the chance to spend what precious few moments she might have had with her mother that are left to her. Is it selfish? Perhaps. And Betty’s attempts to avoid the trauma she felt watching her mother - a titan in her mind - die may of course backfire and cause an entirely different type of trauma for Sally always wondering if there was something she could have done, as well as guilt about not being there for her mother. But then again, it is BETTY’S death... if you can’t be selfish when it is your own death, when can you be?   Still unaware of all the drama happening in his family’s life, Don is in drunken slumber in his motel bed, obviously in no state to drive and taking advantage of the free extra night offered to him by his host... when the door to the motel is quietly opened by Sharon with a key, and moments later he finds himself suddenly restrainted by multiple, angry veterans. What must run through his still half-drunken mind in this moment? Was his confession greeted by a silent agreement by the others to take revenge for the CO he killed? Does he even recognize the veterans at first or does this blend with his dreams of some mysterious “They” who have been searching for him ever since he escaped Korea? Jerry, clutching one of his arms, demands his money, leaving Don more confused than ever. Floyd glares at him, and when Don bellows out to a near-weeping Sharon to ask what is going on, she wails that his car was fixed so he should have just been on his way, ignoring that it was her and her husband that insisted he attend the Legion Hall fundraiser. She’s clutching the can that the fundraising money was kept in, and Floyd warns him that he has five seconds to return the cash he stole, Jerry accusing him of tossing around his cash (he was basically strong-armed into handing it over!) because he knew he was going to steal it back later. Floyd, who once killed four surrendering German prisoners, slaps him across the face with a phone-book, an old technique for beating prisoners without leaving visible marks. Angry himself now, pissed off at these stupid people and their shortsighted lack of scale, Don snarls back asking if they really think he would need their “small change”? That gets him another whack with the phone-book, but Floyd - either too exhausted to continue or realizing it won’t get him anywhere - takes another tack. Picking up Don’s carkeys, he dangles them in his face and Jerry, grasping the meaning, warns that until they get their money back they’ll keep his car. “Probably stolen,” sneers Floyd, and Jerry insists they’ll soon find that out too. They stagger out, half drunk themselves, Don flopping back on the bed, mind still struggling to comprehend the sudden change in demeanor, the insane accusation, and thinking about what might REALLY be going on. Trudy Vogel also gets an unexpected late night visitor, though he at least doesn’t let himself in. Answering a knock at the door, she’s shocked to find her ex-husband Pete Campbell on the threshold. She immediately assumes something is wrong, nobody shows up at 4 in the morning unless there’s a problem. But Pete simply takes her hand and leads her to the couch, sitting down and promising her that he’s come with good news. Relieved at least that nobody is dead or going to jail, she takes a breath and then asks for more elaboration than this, and gets more riddles instead. He explains he was offered a job tonight, one whose origins are supernatural... and he has decided the benefits might be as well. He’s moving to Wichita, Kansas, and he wants her and Tammy to come with him, and for them all to be a family again. That’s uhhh... that’s quite the thing to spring on your ex at 4 in the morning, Pete! Mind reeling at this unexpected proposal, suddenly very mindful of where and when they are, Trudy very carefully tells Pete that she is NOT dismissing him, and especially not dismissing the almost manic look in his eyes... but does he really think they can just... pick up where they left off? Why not!?! Pete, running with the streak Duck insisted he was on, points out that their lives aren’t even halfway over, and even if they are, they should spend the rest of that time together, they’re entitled to what they lost! But when Trudy actually wants substance behind the sentiment, he’s at a loss to explain what they lost, and so instead he simply offers another wonderful sentiment: if they can’t have what they once had, they’re entitled to something new! He promises her that he’s changed, that he’s not as dumb as he was, that he will value her this time, value Tammy, that he won’t take them for granted. He understands, he insists, he knows now that he could risk losing her love even if didn’t control himself, didn’t appreciate her. She blunders here, pointing out that of course she never stopped loving him, and everything she says to qualify that falls on deaf ears as his eyes sparkle and he offers back four words that once made her giddy,”I love you, too.” In spite of herself, Trudy feels a horribly up-welling deep inside of her, one she tries to fight. Hope. Stupid, senseless, illogical hope. Shaking her head, fighting to keep her intellect on top of her emotions, she angrily points out that he can’t just waltz in here at 4 in the morning and say all the things that she wanted him to say 2 years ago! And that she’ll just... run away with him? In answer, Pete quietly insists that he said it to her 10 years ago and he’ll say it to her again now: “I do.” She melts. Every intellectual part of her is screaming no, don’t trust him, don’t let him hurt you again! But every instinct, every emotion, every need devours his words hungrily: they can have the life in Wichita she wanted in Cos Cobb. It’s not the city, but it’s not this strange suburban self-imposed prison either. It’s real country. It’s wholesome. And they can have their cake and eat it too, they’ll have access to a private plane, they can go anywhere at any time. Together. Them and Tammy. Family. “Oh!” she despairs, giving up all resistance, the strange charms of this strange little rat man (who to be fair is speaking with utter sincerity at least in this moment) overwhelming her yet again. She kisses him, and he kisses her, and when she asks astonished how they explain this sudden change of circumstances to Tammy, she can’t help but grin when he notes they’ll simply tell her that her birthday wish came true. Wonder of wonders, he follows this up by... leaving. Taking nothing for granted, not leaping straight to sex, or settling in like he owns the place, Pete kisses her and then takes his leave. He promises her dinner on Saturday for the three of them, a first day together as a family again, actually giving her space and time to come to terms with the shocking decision she just made. “Good morning,” he offers gently, opening the door and stepping outside, and suddenly Trudy Vogel finds herself on track to once again be Trudy Campbell, if the divorce itself ever actually managed to be finalized.   A gentle knock on Don’s motel room door lets him know immediately who it is. Setting aside the ice on his sore eye, he opens the door and lets Andy step inside, the young man promising the booze he has brought is on the house today... and Don shoves him onto the bed, his face blank but his eyes screaming murder. He demands to know what Andy wants, did he come hoping to find out what Don told them? Andy angrily shouts back that he was just being a good citizen, bringing Don the liquor, but freezes up when Don snarls that he has lovely instincts for a con man. He tries to stammer out a response but Don isn’t here to listen, but to teach: he knows Andy stole the money, that he either deliberately or by accident made Don the fall guy, and by walking into this room he’s put himself completely at Don’s mercy, because he could kill him now for what he’s done. The ONLY difference between Andy and the animals who beat him last night is that Andy at least felt guilty enough to bring him this lovely little half-apology of a bottle of booze. Now Andy finds his voice, yelling back that he feels no guilt for taking money from a drunk like Al Bettendorf, who burned down his own house and now gets $500 for it? But that figure is the problem, Don warns him, stealing $500 is a big time crime, and WHEN Andy gets caught it will ruin his life. He’ll either end up in jail or on the run, he’ll have to become another person, and Don promises him that this is NOT something he’ll want to spend the rest of his life worrying about. Andy can’t understand why Don gives a poo poo, pointing out he has plenty of money of his own, trying to make out like he himself is a hero given he didn’t steal any of Don’s money while cleaning his room, as if that is the sign of a truly moral person. But Don is speaking from an experience he can’t share, insisting that Andy bring him back the money so he can hand it in, and Andy himself needs to leave town now. Andy insists he needs the money to leave though, but Don disagrees, he leaves without it or he risks everything, and as bad as he thinks this town in, it’ll be worse if he can never come back. He kicks Andy out, insisting he bring him the money, having to hope that his warning at least penetrated some of Andy’s youthful arrogance. His scamming is subpar, his instincts for self-preservation awful, he’s incapable of not taking advantage without realizing the danger it puts him in... in short, he’s the same stupid, naive kid that Dick Whitman was when he jumped at the chance to serve in Korea to escape Pennsylvania. Something made it through, it seems, because shortly after Don Draper walks into the motel office and dumps a bag of money onto the counter. His kindly, friendly host who now seems to believe Don somehow tricked him into forcing him to attend the Legion Hall and cleverly tricked him into making Don donate more money than he did initially, checks the cash and then silently hands him his keys. Don leaves, having no desire or need to explain himself to these people. In the Legion Hall for a few brief hours they were bothers who shared their darkest, most guilty memories without judgment. Outside of that though, they are shortsighted, angry and belligerent people who can’t tell when a 5th rate hustler is shaking them down. The only communication he offers is a quiet, determined sentence that he will not pay for the room. Outside, he finds Andy waiting with his few worldly possessions, asking if he will drop him off at the bus stop? Don considers for a moment and then grumps at him to get in, figuring why the hell not, it’s not like the kid can do any more damage than he already has.   In Rye, Betty enters the kitchen and informs Henry that’s she off. Confused, he asks where, shocked when she reminds him she has class today. Why? Why is she still going to continue her education given everything that just happened? “Why was I ever doing it?” she offers back, a reminder of sorts that sometimes people want to do things just to do them, not in pursuit of some tangible goal/reward. In that sense, Betty’s diagnosis has been freeing to some degree, because now she is doing what she wants because she wants to do it, and that’s all it needs to be. Helpless, Henry watches her go, still desperate to “fix” this somehow, trapped between that desire and his horrible truth that he doesn’t want to spoil whatever little time they have left with arguments and fighting. At Miss Porter’s, Sally opens a book and pulls out the envelope that Betty gave her. Opening it, she reads the instructions, a message from her mother who is still alive but is likely to be dead in a year or less, the notes a written reminder of a fate that now seems horribly inevitable. Betty’s instructions are primarily dry directions: where she must be buried, what she should be wearing, how her hair and make-up should be done, how Uncle William has information from Grandpa Gene’s burial she can use etc. But they are book-ended by notes that detail a love and care for her daughter that was rarely on display in the last few years, one reciprocated now by a daughter alone in her room, weeping openly at last for a mother who is still alive but whose death is coming fast. Betty admits she used to worry about Sally because she marched to the beat of her own drum, but too late in life she came to understand that this independence was a good thing. She doesn’t know that of course that her father - Grandpa Gene - offered much the same thought to Sally when he was alive, that Sally would get to live a life of freedom that Betty herself (in large part because of Grandpa Gene!) did not. Promising her daughter that her life will be an adventure, Betty closes with words not said often enough between mother and daughter: she loves her. Sally weeps and weeps, this episode a sad bookend to the start of the season where Sally and her friends used the death of a roommate’s mother as an excuse for a day shopping in the city. As she does, Betty herself returns to the college, struggling her way up the stairs, pretending an energy and excitement she doesn’t feel as she’s greeted by passing fellow students, not wanting them to know her fall the previous week was the marker for a fast coming expiry. I’m of two minds about this penultimate episode of Mad Men introducing a fatal sickness to Betty’s character. It made for a powerful episode, some wonderful character moments, and a chance for Kiernan Shipka, January Jones and even Christopher Stanley to show off their acting chops. It’s notable that Don is never involved, never learns, and isn’t even mentioned by any of the other characters in this subplot either, a reminder of just how apart from the family he is in spite of his improved efforts to build relationships with his children. But it’s also a fatal sickness introduced to a character one episode before the series ends. It feels artificial in a way, and Betty’s acceptance of her fate oddly rushed, in spite of Betty’s own mother’s relatively young death setting some kind of grounding for the story. This felt like a way to try and bring some closure to Betty and Sally’s fraught relationship, and though it worked in the moment, it’s placement still feels a little suspect. In Oklahoma, Don drives on with Andy down a road he thought he would be clear of a week earlier. Pulling up to the bus stop, he takes a moment to stare at Andy, who has apparently been sitting in uncomfortable silence the entire trip. Removing the keys from the ignition, Don tosses them into Andy’s lap, informs him the pink-slip is in the glove box, and then offers one last piece of advice to a young man who is more like he once was than he cared to admit: “Don’t waste this.” He steps out of his own car, a surprised Andy only taking a moment before grasping with both hands the opportunity thrown his way. He puts the car into gear and drives away from the bus stop, an unconcerned Don settling himself down on the bench to wait. The bus might come soon, it might be hours. He has nothing but a Sears bag, the clothes on his back, and his sunglasses. Where is the bus going? Does he care? Does he have a plan? Or is this just a continuing path of stripping away all the things he has left dominate his life for so long. As Everyday by Buddy Holly plays, the penultimate episode of Mad Men ends with Don Draper, divested of almost everything we’ve seen that made up the (false) identity of the “perfect man”, sitting at an Oklahoma bus stop waiting to see where the road takes him... and smiling.  We’ll have to wait too.... but only for one more episode. Mad Men is almost over. Episode Index Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 12:14 on Oct 2, 2022 |
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Sep 1, 2022 13:52
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Dave?
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Sep 1, 2022 14:30
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Jerusalem posted:I’m of two minds about this penultimate episode of Mad Men introducing a fatal sickness to Betty’s character. It made for a powerful episode, some wonderful character moments, and a chance for Kiernan Shipka, January Jones and even Christopher Stanley to show off their acting chops. It’s notable that Don is never involved, never learns, and isn’t even mentioned by any of the other characters in this subplot either, a reminder of just how apart from the family he is in spite of his improved efforts to build relationships with his children. This echoes how I felt when this episode first aired, too. My gut reaction was that both Betty's sudden fatal diagnosis and her mature acceptance of her death, as well as Pete and Trudy's reconciliation were sort of rushed by the standards of Mad Men up to that point, and that while I liked both developments I felt like they hadn't actually been earned. I've softened on that a lot, though, and I like what Tom & Lorenzo had to say about both in their recap of the episode (https://tomandlorenzo.com/2015/05/mad-men-the-milk-and-honey-route/): quote:Betty was able to change to the effect that she was able to celebrate her daughter’s uniqueness and tell her she loved her – but she had to do it in a letter concerned largely with appearances and coldly listing a series of demands. That’s pure Betty Hofstadt. She couldn’t perch on Sally’s bed and give her a hug and talk about love and looking down from heaven. That’s not who she is and that’s not what that scene was for, in Betty’s mind. It was Betty’s last declaration of self. “I’ve fought for plenty in my life,” she tells Sally, Now do as I tell you. And make sure I look pretty. She’s grown, but she’s still the Betty we’ve always known. They also point out in the comments that Betty eventually dying of lung cancer was foreshadowed a lot. She talks about smoking "until she's put in a box" all the way back in season 1, and more recently (and perhaps more purposeful) was Sally talking about "putting Betty in the ground" while smoking a cigarette last season. There may not have been hints in what we've seen of Betty lately, which might have been the real miss on setting up that development, but it was definitely foreshadowed. And I wonder if showing Betty having symptoms of lung cancer earlier in this season might have been too obvious for Mad Men--we all know what it means when a character on a drama show suddenly develops a bad cough, after all. Harrow fucked around with this message at 14:38 on Sep 1, 2022 |
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Sep 1, 2022 14:34
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The Pete/Trudy stuff didn't bother me at all, they've been dancing around it a lot and the fact is that it was always Pete who was the obstacle to he and Trudy being a happy couple together, he constantly got in the way of them and himself. I think it helped as well that pretty much since season 2, Pete's had a love/hate relationship with Duck (while Duck himself has been almost entirely on the love side, he's always rated Pete) and being told that he risked ending up like Duck was even scarier for him than Don's warning about where his life was headed as an executive back in season 1. Love that "King and Queen of Wichita" line. Whether Pete and Trudy actually make it work or not I don't know, but it feels perfectly Pete that he spent 10 years working out that what he desperately wanted was what he had initially and almost immediately sullied and eventually ruined because he needed that "something more" like his brother and his father. Torquemada posted:Dave? I have literally no idea how that happened. That's bizarre! Straight up the first word 
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Sep 1, 2022 14:52
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Jerusalem posted:He's drinking a Coors (not Miller!) I would like to point out that the significance of this is coincidence more than anything else. At the time, it was virtually impossible to get Coors east of the Mississippi River. It was something of a symbol of the West. Miller, on the other hand, was viewed as an white collar beer and just wouldn't have been available in the places Don was visiting. It wouldn't pick up the blue collar vibe until the late 70s (which is exactly what the outcome of the meeting Don left would be).
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Sep 1, 2022 15:23
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Jerusalem posted:Floyd killing prisoners, Don killing his CEO I thought Floyd's story was about cannibalism.
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Sep 1, 2022 15:31
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Brendan Rodgers posted:I thought Floyd's story was about cannibalism. I can see if you're not familiar with the Battle of the Hurtgen Forest, you could see it as "executed prisoners." But, if you are familiar with it, "of course they ate those dudes."
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Sep 1, 2022 15:51
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Sash! posted:I would like to point out that the significance of this is coincidence more than anything else. At the time, it was virtually impossible to get Coors east of the Mississippi River.
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Sep 1, 2022 15:59
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Jerusalem posted:Don killing his CEO No wonder he booked it out of McCann! Betty's diagnosis...feels cheap on the surface (as though the show was more or less obligated to give somebody lung cancer eventually, to pay off that "Everybody looks so glamorous, smoking all the time" buzz during the early seasons,) but as Harrow pointed out, it's definitely earned. It's a dark but satisfying end to Betty's series arc: Here's a woman whose ex-husband was receiving intel from her therapy sessions a decade ago, who is being talked around by her doctors when her current husband is receiving her current diagnosis. The current husband who loves her, but also has told her in no uncertain terms that in public she should first and foremost act as a prop for him and his image. She finally has the opportunity to take control of her own life - by choosing to die on her own terms - and she embraces it immediately. Pete's story is, similarly, his series arc in miniature. A disgusting, odious little rat man of immense privilege bumbles his way into greater success, even when it seems like he should have ruined his own chances; the audience should hate his guts but we enjoy watching him suffer even though we know he's going to come out ahead once again. Here at the end, by finally granting him an iota of self-awareness, we're finally able to root for him. I knew Pete and Trudy were going to wind up in one another's arms again after their united front to the dean back in Time & Life:  Look at those crazy kids. They just work too well together!
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Sep 1, 2022 16:09
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Jerusalem posted:I have literally no idea how that happened. That's bizarre! Straight up the first word quote:Floyd killing prisoners, Don killing his CEO
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Sep 1, 2022 16:20
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I think Betty’s fate just seems a little bit mean, like they fridged her; Pete’s happiness is salt in the wound.
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Sep 1, 2022 16:23
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I love Pete saying he never loved anyone else to Trudy. I can’t remember his exact wording at the end of season 2 when he is trying to get with Peggy again but he’s such a sleazy bitch. I love him
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Sep 1, 2022 16:57
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Lane was a CFO, right? So Don did kill one of those.
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Sep 1, 2022 17:02
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JethroMcB posted:I knew Pete and Trudy were going to wind up in one another's arms again after their united front to the dean back in Time & Life: For me it was when they danced at Roger's wedding  How can you not love this couple?
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Sep 1, 2022 17:03
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WampaLord posted:For me it was when they danced at Roger's wedding still a great dance routine, every time.
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Sep 1, 2022 18:28
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This episodes don plot line was really heartbreaking to me at the time. Poor guy opens up to strangers and gets beat up for it. This is how people turn into crazed loners who blow up buildings Don!!!
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Sep 1, 2022 20:16
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i feel very much the opposite about betty's diagnosis than most people seem to. life comes at you fast, and especially back then even without the horrors of smoking there was simply less awareness about cancer prevention in general. bettys precise fate, of a suddenly mid 30s cancer diagnosis caught far too late was startlingly common. i also think its placement in the season makes sense, as if it were even just an episode or two earlier it could be seen as taking up too much space in the show, either by multiple redundant scenes of betty justifying herself, or just lingering in the background too much. bettys cancer absolutely hangs over these last 2 episodes like a shadow, and even on rewatches i find it very present at the front of my mind during scenes without her in them. even in dons major moment of vulnerability he still cant bring himself to be completely honest, he passively "got to go home" rather than the fact that he engineered those circumstances after the explosion. finally, pete has learned his lesson that he doesnt need to compare himself to other people, or to ghosts or ideas given to himself. he can just evaluate his life on his own terms, and in doing so has realized that what he had was enough, and was important to him. you gotta just tear the bandaid off and watch the finale jerusalem! dont drag it out!!!
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Sep 1, 2022 20:59
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Bismack Billabongo posted:This episodes don plot line was really heartbreaking to me at the time. Poor guy opens up to strangers and gets beat up for it. This is how people turn into crazed loners who blow up buildings Don!!! It was so shocking, but there's a degree of... Here's the deserved punishment you've been waiting for for your crimes, for literal decades, and it still manages to be absurd and arbitrary lmao
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Sep 1, 2022 21:30
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this is my last opportunity to use spoilers, and dammit I'm going to use them I think the other thing that's weird about Betty's story in this episode (on first viewing, before seeing the finale) is that it's a very odd amount of closure for the show. the viewer isn't really used to a definitive ending for a main character like she gets (or seems to get) here. Lane being a major exception. one of the things I love about the finale is that it pulls the rug out from under Betty's perfectly tightly-wrapped-up-in-a-bow ending by bringing Don into her story a little. in the next episode it's clear that either she's been crying heavily, and/or her body's condition has deteriorated rapidly. either way, we get to see a hint of the ugly physical reality of cancer, and it's a very powerful statement to me. the last we see her in this episode is her defiantly and proudly walking up the stairs, seemingly in charge of her own destiny for once in her life in spite of her illness; the very next time we see her, at the end of things, she looks quite literally like death. kalel fucked around with this message at 21:45 on Sep 1, 2022 |
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Sep 1, 2022 21:42
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kalel posted:this is my last opportunity to use spoilers, and dammit I'm going to use them the last time we see her is in the Turn A Gundam rear end montage where we see how everyone ends up, and shes sitting at the kitchen table perfectly put together as usual and smoking while sally does dishes behind her
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Sep 1, 2022 22:28
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Paper Lion posted:the last time we see her is in the Turn A Gundam rear end montage where we see how everyone ends up, and shes sitting at the kitchen table perfectly put together as usual and smoking while sally does dishes behind her yeah but I'm talking about her "ending" in *this* episode. the letter to Sally wraps up their relationship arc relatively neatly with some amount of dignity for the character. and then the next time we see her is on the other end of the phone with don, looking miserable and defeated she looks put together in the montage, in front of her children, but alone we get to see a bit behind the curtain. it's tonal whiplash in relation to this ep and it works really well imo kalel fucked around with this message at 01:05 on Sep 2, 2022 |
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Sep 1, 2022 23:28
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sebmojo posted:It was so shocking, but there's a degree of... Here's the deserved punishment you've been waiting for for your crimes, for literal decades, and it still manages to be absurd and arbitrary lmao This is how I feel about it, too. There's a level or catharsis in it, I think. Don's been torturing himself for decades, waiting for some consequence for what he did in Korea. But I interpret this experience - the confession in the Legion Hall and the attack in his room afterwards - as a form of atonement for it, and a purge of whatever guilt or fear underpinned his constant anxiety. Don did what he had to in Korea, just as every other vet in that room had. He was just a stupid kid who made a bad choice out of desperation. And he's already paid for it every day since. Don didn't steal the money, but suffering as if he had feels significant. The punishment feels senseless and arbitrary and unfair, but so does the hypocritical toll society has placed on Don for choosing to get out of Korea decades ago, for fleeing the lovely life he was born into as Dick Whitman. I think this is also the reason Don doesn't out the actual thief, who was also a dumb kid making a stupid choice. But more to the point, Don doesn't owe anything to those people. Doesn't need to concern himself with their judgment, who are just as fallible as he is. I see it as a turning point for him, pushing through a pain he no longer needs to feel.
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Sep 2, 2022 00:51
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he also lays part of it out direct to andy, saying "you think this town is terrible now, wait until you can never come back." hes clearly talking about himself in that moment, and some of the regret he has about having never been able to return again. the guilt of abandoning adam all those years ago creeping in. to some extent, his gift and advice are more about don playing catcher in the rye than anything else and hoping to spare andy the pain he has carried from leaving the only people in his life behind. don doesnt really directly comment on any of this through the show, but this is one of the moments that i feel exposes us to the interiority that he feels about his leaving. that even though his mother was terrible and his environment was awful and he desperately wanted out of it, even as a child dreaming of going to the hershey orphan school, those people and that place were all he had in the world. untethering himself WAS hard. it DID hurt, and on some level he always felt guilt not just at taking another mans name, but specifically of abandoning his own too in the process.
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Sep 2, 2022 01:17
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Paper Lion posted:he also lays part of it out direct to andy, saying "you think this town is terrible now, wait until you can never come back." hes clearly talking about himself in that moment, and some of the regret he has about having never been able to return again. the guilt of abandoning adam all those years ago creeping in. to some extent, his gift and advice are more about don playing catcher in the rye than anything else and hoping to spare andy the pain he has carried from leaving the only people in his life behind. Yeah, and I know it's in the text and all, but it bears repeating that Don is making the point that Andy at least now has the option that if everything DOES go wrong and gently caress up, he could still always go "home" and his family and friends and associates would all still be there and he COULD just slot back into that life. It's an option Don simply does not have. The closest he ever got was Adam tracking him down, and he feels immense guilt over that on top of the guilt he was already feeling given he sent Adam away only to later discover he killed himself. Don looks at Andy and sees Dick Whitman, and he gives this Dick Whitman the chance to start from a cleaner slate than the real one ever had.
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Sep 2, 2022 08:00
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God that episode loving rules. At the time I thought it was rushed with Betty and Pete but Don getting exactly what he wants, forgiveness and then punishment for his perceived crime of being a fraud in the literal and figurative sense and then eventually shedding his skin was great.
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Sep 2, 2022 08:21
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Posting on page 100 of a legendary thread 
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Sep 2, 2022 09:38
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Best show ever made
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Sep 3, 2022 14:13
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On a positive note, Jerusalem’s Sopranos thread stuck around for a long while after he finished reviewing it, with plenty of commentary from people doing a rewatch or reread, so this one will be around for a while (especially since he has to reread the whole thread again for the spoilers).
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Sep 5, 2022 13:41
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Sep 10, 2022 17:27
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yessssss
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Sep 10, 2022 17:37
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Season 7, Episode 14 - Person to Person Written by Matthew Weiner, Directed by Matthew Weiner Don Draper posted:I took another man's name, and made... nothing of it. A car speeds across the Salt Flats in Utah, frame shimmying from the speed, the driver looking troubled. It is, of course, Don Draper. He seems to be taking no pleasure in the high speed drive, and when he returns to the garage when the car's mechanics are waiting, they tell him they're surprised he didn't "open it up" and bring the car up to full speed. Don explains he got a "shaker" when he reached 130, but the mechanics - young, handsome and invulnerable - don't see why that should be something to be afraid of. A pretty woman and a young boy enter the garage too, proclaiming how fast he was driving, and an amused Don wryly notes that it wasn't that fast according to the two mechanics. Still, the mechanics clearly credit Don - in jeans, white shirt and denim jacket in a complete change from his usual suited appearance - with knowledge, asking if he thinks the car has what it takes to go to El Mirage? Amused by their desire to set records, he explains to them that though the car would still be controllable with the shake, it's going to create drag. They're impressed by his knowledge, particularly given that he (still!) doesn't have a car, but perhaps more impressed by the fact he has money, which may also explain the deference they're giving to him: they need a stake to get to El Mirage, a couple of hundred dollars for a flatbed rig and some parts. "And beer and gas," notes Don, not offended nor surprised that they're after him for money, given he's obviously getting something out of this relationship too. He grabs a beer from the cooler, but even as the others join him for a drink, he casts a look back at the car, looking troubled. Why? Does it bother him that - unlike the youthful mechanics - he defaulted to being "safe" by not getting the car up to a higher speed when he felt the shimmy? Or perhaps the race failed to give him the jolt or spark he was hoping for? Once before he thought he had fled New York for good, and while staying with Anna he met a couple of hot rod enthusiasts and got excited about the notion of working with cars instead of being in advertising.... is the reality now that he has seemingly left advertising for good not living up to the fantasy? Just like every other white whale he has pursued has failed to make him feel complete, because he continues to run from his problems rather than deal with them? As an aside, last episode I was curious that Don appeared to be circling back around on his road trip in the direction of New York again. That's out the window now that he is in Utah, it seems he is just criss-crossing up and down America growing ever inevitably closer to California. On the other side of the country in New York, Roger Sterling sits in his VERY spacious office at McCann - his name may not be on the building anymore, but he's still got incredible prestige even at the much larger Agency he now simply works for - as his two secretaries go through his itiniery. One is Caroline, of course, but the other is... Meredith! Roger has a busy schedule, flying out to Chicago for a breakfast with Sears Roebuck Senior Vice Presidents, then on to the Chicago Ad Club for lunch followed by a speech in the early afternoon. Caroline has laid all that out, while Meredith has very helpfully translated Roger's speech.... into Pig Latin! For a second he's bewildered, then realizes he made an off-the-cuff joke probably mocking Chicagoans that she took completely literally. He explains it was a joke, but then finds the shoe on the other foot when he cannot understand what the hell Caroline is trying to tell him when she explains the package will be arriving at the Stanhope Hotel. The one from Canada.... with the luggage! Caroline attempts to explain, and grasping what she means at last Roger points out that Meredith already knows about Marie! "She's Megan's mother," smiles Meredith helpfully! Caroline, clearly not finding Meredith the helpful aide that Shirley was back in SC&P, notes that she is going to leave him and Meredith alone, and Roger winces and asks if has to? "Yes," she insists, and once she is gone Roger wearily explains to Meredith the sad news he was clearly hoping Caroline would end up having to deliver. Her mind immediately leaps to the worst, is he dead? Surprised, Roger grasps she means Don and quickly assures her that he is.... well, not that he knows of at least, but he's pretty certain he would have gotten that news if it were so! But no, the problem is that Roger has been running under the assumption that Don would return as he always does after their weird little disappearances, and so had Meredith working for him as a second secretary so she'd still be there when Don returned. That's... that's actually incredibly sweet and thoughtful of Roger! That fiction could only stretch so far though, especially as he is now no longer the boss, and with no Don returning McCann simply don't see the need to keep paying Meredith for a job she isn't actually needed for. She's fired. Meredith though seems utterly unperturbed by this news, not thinking about herself at all as she notes that she hopes Don is in a better place. Roger chides her for continually assuming Don is dead, and now it is Meredith of all people's turns to school Roger on something: there are LOTS of places in this world that are "a better place" than McCann Erickson. He can't deny that, so he shakes her hand and assures her that he will give her the recommendation that Don himself would have, and that he has no doubt she will land on her feet. "I always do!" Meredith cheerfully declares, apparently completely unfazed by her loss of employment, an absolute sweetheart whose initial appearances painted her as an incompetent idiot but who time showed just to be a somewhat naive but also completely at-ease-in-her-own-skin and hardworking person with a heart of gold... and sometimes overactive romantic imagination!   Meredith of course, is in many ways the polar opposite of Peggy Olson, who jumps between periods of utter self-confidence to incredible self-doubt and panic about her place in life. Attending a meeting with Stan and various other copywriter/artist teams, she listens as all the Accounts are assigned and the manager - a hard-nosed woman who sounds absolutely sick of everybody's poo poo - calls the meeting to an end. Troubled, she asks Stan why he thinks they were taken off the Chevalier Account, one that of course they brought to McCann with them from SC&P. Stan reminds her that Ted Chaough isn't the Creative Director for that Account anymore, it was moved to another CD named David, and he seems untroubled by the fact they were removed even as Peggy gets paranoid over whether David knows they were reassigned from it or not, pointing out that at McCann there is plenty to go around for everybody, including themselves. They're not the only partnership that has had accounts reassigned though, the manager is quietly informing another female copywriter that she still has four good Accounts and she isn't getting whatever other one was taken from her back. She leaves looks miserable, and the man behind her steps up next to talk, but quickly beats a retreat when Peggy asks Lorraine if she has a moment and the frustrated looking Lorraine snaps back,"Not really." Peggy ignores her aggressive response though, outright asking why they have been taken off Chevalier. Lorraine's answer is simple enough, Stu Riley is replacing Pete Campbell now that Pete is leaving McCann, and Stu "has his favorites" and that's that. Nothing personal, no deeper meaning, the new Vice President just prefers working with certain people and that's that. That can cut both ways though, as Peggy - outright lying given she still thought Ted was CD on the Account - says she was under the impression David wanted to keep her and Stan on the Account. "I guess he didn't," grunts Lorraine, who has been trying to leave this room for several minutes now and probably has multiple other meetings to attend, and when Peggy asks if David even knows she sneers back and sarcastically asks if she should call David and let him know Peggy is unhappy? With that she starts to leave the room.... and Peggy - mouth twitching as she once again fights her ingrained upbringing to not make a fuss - calls after her, saying that yes she SHOULD call David.... in fact maybe the three of them could walk over and see him now? Get this whole thing sorted out with absolutely no chance for miscommunication or misunderstanding! Her bluff called, Lorraine glares at Peggy and then snaps that it's fine, if they want the Account, they can have it! She storms off, not liking having her authority questioned but also wisely not wasting time fighting over something that - to her - is completely inconsequential. Maybe Stu requested certain people, maybe Lorraine assigned certain people on his behalf knowing that they worked well together, maybe she just threw the Accounts together without thought beyond balancing everybody's workload... it doesn't matter, the size of McCann-Erickson both works for and against it. In this case against it, as the other Copywriters were dismissed with the idea there was no point fighting the monolithic entity, but Peggy grasping that the higher-ups wouldn't want to be bothered with such a small thing and it would be easier for Lorraine to just capitulate rather than get into a pissing match. Stan of course isn't happy, because now Peggy's made an enemy of Lorraine AND he has extra work he will have to do, but Peggy is thrilled: she isn't letting herself get walked over or lost in the mix in this gigantic Agency, she's standing her ground and getting her way, and making sure she doesn't just become one of the faceless masses among the other Copywriters.   Don may have divested himself of a lot of his common habits, but casual sex hasn't been one of them. Lying in bed in post-coital relaxation, he's rejoined by his partner for the evening: the pretty blond woman who was admiring his speed earlier in the day. She cuddles up beside him, and he notes with interest that she hung up his jeans, and she beams that she likes having a man around to take care of. He smiles at that charming, domestic little line... and then asks if his wallet happened to fall out while she was doing so. Jesus Christ, Don. She's momentarily offended, but then quickly recovers, all smiles again as she teases that she just wanted to know more about him, offering that the others suspect he must be from Detroit and has come to Utah to steal their engineering secrets. Don, completely calm but also not willing to be sidetracked, ignores this obvious lie and asks her with the same brutal directness as his first question how much she stole from him. Openly offended now but not aggressive, more resigned to having been rumbled - as Don warned Andy, she isn't as smooth a huckster as she thinks she is - she sarcastically asks if he's never paid for "it", and he has no hesitation to admitting that he has paid for sex before AND that he will again... but he prefers it to be a voluntary transaction, not a sneaky and hidden one. He orders her to fetch her purse, and with a sigh she does as she's told, passing him back the envelope she took from his jeans, the same one that Meredith gave him after hiding the contents from the movers for fear of... being stolen! Checking the contents, he pulls out cash and hands it over to her, satisfied now that the "natural" order has been restored, pointing out that she could have simply asked for the money. "That's never worked," she sighs, but she does thank him for the cash, seemingly relieved that what could have gone VERY badly for her (shouted accusations and the police in a best case scenario, a beating or death in a worst case scenario) worked out just fine. Curious now that the issue of the money is set aside, she asks who the ring she found belongs to, causing Don to laugh and then herself when he points out that she was planning on stealing the ring until a few seconds ago, now she wants the backstory!?! With the potential unpleasantness avoided, Don is satisfied and so is she, and he's also up for some more of what he just paid for. She has no objection, she didn't sleep with him ONLY for his money, he is an attractive and charismatic man after all... and now she has the money, what harm in enjoying more of what she already has? It's a mutually beneficial transaction all around. Speaking of a mutually beneficial relationship, Joan returns to the holiday home she and Richard are staying at, having gone out to mail postcards despite Richard pointing out they'll beat the postcards back to New York, explaining she wanted the postmark on them to read Key West. Why mutually beneficial? Because they're both getting what they always wanted out of it: partners that are available, interested, supportive but most importantly not reliant on the other. Richard is rich, but Joan has enough money to live a very comfortable lifestyle for the rest of her (still decades to go) life. Richard is fine with her family, including her son, but doesn't want or need any kids of his own, to be married again, or to dictate to her what she is and isn't allowed to do. Joan is beautiful, intelligent, has a strong and forceful personality so he can't simply walk all over her, and he knows for a fact she isn't after him for his money: hell, she dated him back when she initially thought he was just some random guy who walked into HER office by mistake. They can experience everything together, without ever feeling like they bound to the other's side. And one of those things Richard wants to experience? Cocaine! He shows her a little envelope and she's shocked but amused: where the hell did he go cocaine? His old partner gave it to him as a birthday present apparently, it's all over Malibu at the moment and he wants to give it a shot! Joan, figuring they're on vacation so what the hell, shrugs and agrees to take part, and in an incredibly adorable scene Richard - who let's be frank is a bit of a square, albeit a very rich and laidback one - tries to figure out exactly how this works... do you sniff it off a fingernail? Joan scoops up a small amount and takes a sniff, wincing from the unexpected sensation before offering some to Richard. He snorts it up too, also shaking his head in surprise, and then Joan gasps as she realizes just how quickly the high has hit, grinning that she feels like somebody just gave her some VERY good news! Leaning back on the couch, Richard grins that they could live like this ALL the time if they wanted. She chuckles that he just wants to corrupt her, but he doesn't mean doing cocaine (though he's certainly not adverse to it!), he means they could live as they wanted, doing what they wanted, whenever they wanted. Gradually building up into a manic state, Richard excitedly babbles on about how he understands she has to be in one place for Kevin's schooling but that one place doesn't have to be in New York. They could be in the country, or the mountains, or the country AND the mountains! She hates her mother! He wants to share a life with her! They need to find a place together! Joan matches his manic energy, the cocaine whizzing through her system, she doesn't hate her mother! She is enjoying the freedom of her life in New York at the moment! Has he been looking for a place? Does he WANT to get married? He nods along to that last one like she was asking if they should have chicken for dinner, but stresses that he sees her as undeveloped property (with a hell of a view!) and he's eager to help her realize her potential. "Do we HAVE to get married?" she asks, looking pained at the though, and he gasps back,"Hell no!" and that's fine by both of them, and completely abandoning any pretense of this being a conversation, she gasps that she wants him so much right now and launches herself onto his more than willing body for some crazy, cocaine-fueled sex. No wonder Richard wants life to continue in this vein!   Peggy is working away in her office (little Halloween decorations are up everywhere, an attempt to get the gigantic Agency a personal touch) when Pete Campbell walks in apologizing for being late. Peggy has to apologize to him though, they're shooting a Samsonite commercial tomorrow and they just demanded changes to EVERYTHING, so she has to forgo his farewell lunch... meaning it's just going to be him and Harry Crane. Pete is not happy to hear the news, obviously, complaining that THIS is his farewell? She shrugs, because it's not like she can do anything about it, the work HAS to be done. She knows he isn't angry at her either, asking him what else he got, and he shows her the tin of cookies that one of the "girls in Accounts" baked for him.... and a cactus. Peggy is confused, asking what that has to do with Kansas, and he hasn't got a clue either, but since he has a five-year-old daughter, he offers the cactus to her instead, and she takes it for want of anything else she can do. Harry arrives, smoking a cigar and wearing an expensive looking coat, and is upset to discover Peggy won't be joining them, grumpily asking if she knows who he was SUPPOSED to be having lunch with that he canceled? "Someone important?" she grunts, making a very clear point about the unintentional insult Harry gave just her AND Pete while he was trying to - of course - big himself up. Pete shoves the tin of cookies into his hands, telling him they'll tide him over while he waits by the elevator. Harry leaves, grumpily munching on a cookie, and Pete says goodbye to probably the only member of SC&P that he will genuinely miss, in spite of all the (enormous!) baggage of their now decade long relationship. Presumably the lunch was meant to be with the SCDP survivors, Roger too busy to attend (and unlikely to have attended regardless), Joan and Don gone, Cooper dead, and Ted and Stan from outside that group that took part in the heist to escape Sterling Cooper. Peggy grumps that Harry is trying to act like they were the Three Musketeers when they've never once had a lunch together, causing Pete to chuckle. With that complaint out of the way though, she tells him what she meant to tell him at lunch: she's happy for him. So is everybody else, she assures him, even the ones mad at him for getting such a fantastic job! He grins, pleased at the kind words, but offers back some kind words of his own: she is doing fine, and if she keeps up the good work she will be a Creative Director here at McCann - arguably the biggest Advertising Agency in the world - by 1980. She contemplates the far-off, futuristic, sci-fi sounding year of 1980, noting quietly how far away it seems. Pete is adamant though, it will just take time for people to get used to the idea of it - a woman Creative Director who doesn't ALSO own the Agency? - but it will happen, and people will brag about the fact that they have worked for her. Overwhelmed, she admits she isn't quite sure how to respond to such a compliment, and Pete offers a response that is both sad and also demonstrates how genuine his claim to her was: he doesn't know how she should respond either, because nobody ever made the same claim about him. It is both an acknowledgement of his own flaws as well as her own merits. Touched, Peggy offers back the kindest thing she can in return, borrowing an oft-used phrase of his to show that he DID have an impact on her as well beyond the negative. "A thing like that." They stand quietly for a moment, letting the moment sit, and then Pete promises her that he will be back at some point (most likely as an executive ala Ken Cosgrove), motioning to the cactus and saying it better be alive. With that he lives, and Peggy stands holding the cactus - it represents Pete better than he knows, a little prick but if you put in the effort there's something of value to be found inside - with a smile on her face, happy that their parting could be so amicable. So much is left unsaid between them, because it simply doesn't need to be said. They're more than just co-workers, more than just bonded over their shared building of SCDP, their shared history through Sterling Cooper, SCDP, SC&P and now McCann. These two had an incredibly short, ill-advised and frankly bizarre love affair (but only the second weirdest Peggy ever had!) and somewhere out there in the world they have a child, being raised by somebody else, Peggy only ever seeing him once and Pete never... Pete in fact never even knowing he existed until long after the fact. But it is irrelevant to the conversation, because both moved past that moment in their lives. They had their ups and downs, their squabbles and their fights and their shared vision of building an Agency. But in the end, the two part not as former lovers, or co-workers, or survivors. They part as friends, genuinely supportive and hopeful for the other's future, with no ulterior motive or consideration in mind beyond that they each hope the best for the other. We should all be so lucky.   At Miss Porter's, Sally takes a call from her father, filling her in on the latest from his road-trip. He's confused and a little irritated at her distracted responses to what he is saying, having apparently forgotten or paid no attention to the newspaper clipping he sent her after apparently witnessing Gary Gabelich break the world land speed record... which is also what seems to have triggered his latest attempted passion for fast cars. She tries to end the call, another waiting student eagerly stepping forward to use the communal phone only to be stopped when Don prevents Sally from hanging up, asking her what is wrong. He had initially thought she was just a little grumpy about him getting to ride around having all this fun, reminding her that HE already suffered through high school himself, but now at last he gets that there is a problem she isn't telling him, and he wants to know what it is. At first he tries to make light of it, asking cheekily if it is boy problems. Motioning to the other student she isn't done yet, she explains she isn't supposed to tell him, so now he gets sterner, proclaims,"What?" in a authoritative tone that is TELLING now asking. So she tells him. "Mom's dying." He rolls his eyes at this, immediately relieved if irritated, assuring her that her mother is a hypochondriac, which is a not particularly gracious OR accurate reference perhaps to her "nerve" issues from season 1 or her more recent health scare when she found a lump. But with the bandaid off now, Sally is determined to get the truth through to him: Betty is dying, she has lung cancer and the doctors have given her six months to live. Don sits forward, really paying attention now, the full enormity of everything still not quite sinking in. When Sally quietly admits that she wasn't supposed to tell him but thought he should know, he promises her she did the right thing and that he's on his way back "home" immediately. But she corrects him, she doesn't mean she thought he should know so he could "fix" things.... she thought he should know because when she dies, Betty wants Gene and Bobby to go and live with Uncle William. He has a quick response to that, assuring her that she and the boys will be coming to live with him. But Sally cuts him off again, telling him to listen to HER, that she has put a lot more thought into this situation that he has. She thinks the boys should continue to live with Henry, an idea that appalls Don, but Sally doesn't care about how he feels in that moment, or even how she feels... her concern is for Bobby and Gene. She at least is close to (legal) adulthood, she can take care of herself and deal with this situation. But the boys are still young, and once they've lost their mother the best thing for them will be to still be in the same house and going to the same school. Don tries to talk over her but she isn't having it, snapping at him that she's betraying her mother's confidence to tell him this because it's that important, and she wants him to understand that she knows what she is talking about. The other girl is still lurking about, wanting her turn on the phone, and Sally takes this opportunity to tell her father she has to go now. He tries to stop her, but she's already hung up, leaving him sitting alone in his hotel room, smoking one of the cigarettes that are killing his ex-wife.... an industry that HE helped to advertise their product for years and was willing to return to only a year ago if it would save his role in the Agency. His next action is to go straight to the source, calling Betty in Rye to talk to her directly. What we see now is the aftermath is her firm resolve at the end of the previous episode to face death on her own terms, without treatment, accepting her eventual fate but living her life until it came. She shuffles to the phone in her bedroom, nightstand covered in medication, looking exhausted, coughing and having to take a moment to gather her strength before answering. The operator tells her she has a person-to-person call from Donald Draper, and she accepts the call after a momentary wince, either worried about what he wants or fearing she already knows. When she gets Don on the other end, the first think she asks is if he wants the boys, still hoping this out of the blue call isn't because he's discovered her secret. But when he angrily states that she KNOWS he talks regularly to Sally, she knows the gig is up. When he insists that he is coming "home" she yells angrily that he is NOT before calming herself down, pointing out that she doesn't want the boys upset, complaining that Sally herself wasn't supposed to know but it seems like nobody can keep their mouths shut. Don, trying to convince either himself or her that the kids living with him was something she was simply afraid to ask him, insists that she doesn't need to worry because the kids will live with him. But on that she's adamant, they'll live with William and Judy, and when Don complains that he is their father, she attempts to soften the blow by explaining the boys need to live somewhere there is a woman's influence. That attempt goes out the window though when Don, reverting back to his season 1 misogynistic viewpoint, angrily declares that she - their mother! - doesn't actually have the right to decide what is best for her children. Deceptively reasonable at first, she explains this will be best for everybody INCLUDING him, since he'll still get to see them as much as he already does, on weekends and.... oh yeah, she asks dismissively, what WAS the last time he actually saw these children who he seems to think only he has the right to make decisions about? This actually gets through to him. He sits stunned for a moment, and then his anger finally crumples to reveal the real emotion underpinning all this. "I didn't know..." he says at last, admitting the guilt and sadness he feels at discovering she is dying, thinking about all the adventures he has been having, the fun, all while putting through weekly calls to speak with the boys, getting her briefly on the phone perhaps or Henry first before the boys, having no idea what they were going through. Both of them fight back tears, but what Betty says next - true as it may be - is another gut-punch for Don - she knows he is upset, she knows he is trying to help, but the simple fact is she wants things to be as normal as possible for the boys and unfortunately "normal" is Don not being around. "....Birdie..." he manages, voice quavering, and after a long pause she finally offers back,"....I know....", an unspoken expression of both his grief and sorrow for her but also an acknowledgement that on some level he still - and always will - love her, just as she is will always love him in her own way as well. She hangs up, exhausted and miserable, while Don sits alone in his hotel room with a beer and a cigarette, feeling about as far from being on a fun, adventurous road trip as he possibly could.   A match cut from Don drinking beer to Ken Cosgrove drinking wine follows. In New York, Ken greets Joan who he has invited out for dinner at a restaurant. He greets her warmly with a kiss on the cheek, she takes a seat and he IMMEDIATELY asks if she kept her Rolodex when she left McCann, causing her to laughingly protest that she'd at least like to try the wine the waiter is still pouring before they talk business. She giggles again when he changes tack to ask her about her vacation and to tell her she looks great, sipping her wine and then getting down to business: why did he invite her out? He explains that every department within Dow has to make an industrial film for the upcoming National Sales meeting... and his department's script is long AND boring. His producer is a drunk who he has to replace, and he's hoping she remembers the name of the producer on their Birds Eye commercials. Cautiously she notes she can find the number somewhere, careful not to give a name and cut herself out of the equation. Ken though isn't that kind of devious, he's in general pretty open about his intentions, even when his intentions are to gently caress somebody else over! He hands over an envelope, explaining that he's got a 50k budget and a clever producer could probably pocket easily half of that for themselves.. but they need to know writers and directors and they need to produce FAST, because he cannot let himself get eclipsed by Plastics and Packaging again! loving Plastics and Packaging!  Reviewing the contract, Joan tells him to relax, for 50k she can find 10 producers eager to take the job. Ken, unlike many, actually does completely relax the moment she tells him this, utterly confident in her ability to find the right man. Suddenly his frantic tension is gone, and he asks after her family with total sincerity, demonstrating yet again a remarkable ability - with some notable exceptions like when he took the Dow job - to compartmentalize his work and family life that others would do well to learn from. Joan tells him her family is wonderful, and asks how his own boy, Eddie, is. "Weird actually," notes Ken, utterly unafraid to speak openly,"I think there might be something wrong with him!" Joan bursts out laughing, not entirely sure if Ken is just cracking a joke or speaking sincerely, or even if he's secretly proud to have a "weird" kid. All she knows is that this is going to be a pleasant dinner with an old friend, and presumably part of that 50k is going towards a finder's fee for her. In Utah, Don lies half comatose on his hotel bed from drinking almost 2/3rds of a bottle of Lord Calvert Canadian whisky, television on but not really watching it. There's a knock at the door and he blearily bellows for them to come in, and the two mechanics enter, the shorter one horrified to see the state Don is in, mostly because as he tells his partner they can't ask for money from him when he's as drunk as he is. The taller man though points out that though Don doesn't have to come with them, as he'd apparently been planning, he DID promise to stake them the cash for their trip to California, and it is money they need if they're going to go. That fits in with Don's drunken plans too though, as he staggers up off the bed (or tries to, he has to pause a moment) and insists he is coming. They ask if he needs help packing, but as he hauls himself to his feet he simply grabs the envelope of his ID, Anna's ring and his cash and grunts that he's already packed. He falls back on his rear end on the bed though, one of the two helping support him while the other ignores the claim he had everything he needs and grabs up the few possessions Don still has with him. Don mutters that he'll give them the cash they wanted, all they need to do is drop him off where he needs to go on their way. The next morning in New York, Kevin eats cereal while watching that new-fangled show Sesame Street (it'll never last!) while Joan makes good on her promise to Ken. She's on the phone with somebody she has targeted for the job, greeting them and telling them she was hoping to catch up with them for lunch or a drink and catch-up. The person, of course, is Peggy Olson. Eating a donut at her desk, Peggy is thrilled to hear from her, admitting she thought Joan had forgotten about her. She checks her calendar and suggests the end of next week, and when Joan suggests the weekend Peggy immediately grasps that there is something a little more going on here. Joan explains she had dinner with Ken, which causes Peggy to excitedly ask how he is and if she said hi for her... before realizing what a dumb question that is, why would Joan have said hi for her!?! But Joan continues on calmly, Ken is making an industrial film for Dow and since she knows the Account already they both thought of her. Finder's Fee nothing, Joan isn't looking for a Producer, she IS the Producer! Peggy points out that as flattering as it is to be considered, she does have a pretty full schedule herself... until Joan informs her that it is $1200 for a 10 page script. That immediately gives Peggy pause, for that kind of money for that little work, she can MAKE the time! Pleased, Joan says she'll drop off the research and they can have their chat then... though not "there" obviously, referencing McCann. Understanding even if she doesn't know the finer details of the schism between Joan and McCann, Peggy agrees. They end the call, and even though she doesn't have the research yet, Peggy loads up a blank piece of paper, ideas already in her head perhaps for the outline of a script she can adapt to fit.... and Joan Harris has taken her first steps into being a Producer. Don, hungover perhaps but at least mobile now, has been dropped off as promised by the mechanics in exchange for staking their trip. Where has he gone? Not to see Megan, the only other woman he ever loved enough to marry. No, walking up to the porch of a charming looking home with an overgrown garden in the front yard, he's attempting a variation of something he thought was lost forever, looking for the closest thing he has left to Anna: Stephanie. She opens the door when he knocks, pleased but surprised to see "Dick", giving him a hug before asking him not only what he's doing there.... but how he found her? "I was in LA," he offers without explaining the circumstances behind why, and he called her parents and they told him where to find her. She seems slightly wary about that explanation but brings him inside anyway, asking him what they wanted him to tell her. Confused, he promises that all they told him was her address, and that her mother was pretty mad at him because he gave Stephanie money. With a sigh he asks if she has anything he can drink, he's been up all night drinking beer. Still wary, noting angrily that Don gave her more than her mother, she tells him to sit and she'll make coffee, but when he slumps down onto the couch she pauses, still confused and now concerned, asking what's going on with him. With a sloppy grin, he explains that he's retired and has been "on the road", but he thought he'd stop in to see her and "meet the little one". Now she explodes, furiously declaring that this is bullshit, demanding to know if her parents flew him in from some drunk tank they found him in to get him to lay a guilt trip on her? Don, who never even considered that maybe Stephanie - who he hasn't seen in years and only spoke to on the phone at their last "meeting" - has been going through her own story, asks her to tell him what happened. She does, or rather she tells him what HASN'T been happening, because she isn't a mother, she left her baby with the father's parents. Don takes that in for a second, and then without the slightest hesitation tells her he understands. He does too, it's something he has seen happen to others - Peggy in particular - and he himself has shown a willingness in the past to simply leave his children behind him in pursuit of that wholeness that has continually evaded him and that even they didn't fill. She doesn't quite seem to believe him, perhaps because everybody else who knows her story judges her in some way for it, but he's more concerned with the other thing he has come here to do beyond chasing the comfort Anna used to provide by being the only person he knew he could completely relax around and who accepted him uncritically for who he was: he wants her to take Anna's ring, trailing off as he explains he and Megan are.... then insisting that Anna would have wanted Stephanie to have it, which isn't necessarily true but does allow him to divest himself of another piece of the baggage of his past.... and the pressure to honor her gift by finding another wife. Stephanie though shrugs, what is SHE going to do with a wedding ring, she obviously has no plans to get married, even if she did find a man she wanted to be with she doesn't seem like the type to consider marriage a necessity. Don suggests she could sell it then, something he himself could never do but that he obviously thinks Anna would understand coming from Stephanie's situation. He looks around the house, asking if she does need money, that part of him still unchanged, seeing money as a way to show love, perhaps being willing to go so far as to ensure the home security he once gave Anna, feeling in that case that it was a small price to pay for the legitimacy she gave his stolen identity. She doesn't want money or the ring though, noting that from the looks of things HE is the one who is in trouble. She offers him the use of the house given she's about to be going away for a few days, to a "kind of Retreat" on the coast. When he insists he just needs a shower and a shave before he is on his way she insists right back that he lay down on the couch and rest, and she'll open a can of stew so he can get some food in him. He doesn't protest, laying back on the couch and finally letting himself rest. Maybe he was always making his roundabout way to Stephanie's door to give her the ring, but the conversation with Betty certainly appears to have sped things up. Another woman he couldn't save, another woman that he won't get to be with before she dies, another woman he feels he failed in some way: with Betty in obvious concrete ways, with Anna perhaps just in the guilt that he couldn't find the family and happiness she wanted him to find with the new life she helped him to have. But whatever the reason, he's here now, and finally he rests.  
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Sep 10, 2022 17:38
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Less rested but VERY satisfied, Roger Sterling collapses back into his bed at the Stanhope, having just enjoyed some rather energetic sex with Marie Calvet, "complaining" that she's trying to kill him. Leaning happily up against him, she insists she is trying to make him happy as per their "agreement", which gets a chuckle from him too. He takes her cigarette from her to take a puff, wincing at the taste and complaining that Du Mauriers are "le poo poo", while she laughs that she misses having ready access to them. That's too bad, he grunts, but she's "done" with Canada as far as he's concerned. She protests, her children are there (not ALL of them!) and she is sure he will come to love it, and he compromises, so long as he doesn't have to see "whatshisname". That affected ignorance disappears in a moment though when Marie chuckles at what a tragic figure her ex-husband has become, discovering too late that he still wants her. Roger is outraged, suddenly "remembering" Emile's name as he demands to know if she saw him. Marie is untroubled, pointing out that not everything is Roger's business, and that sends his alarm bells ringing.... did she sleep with Emile!?! She snaps at him not to raise his voice, reminding him that he is not her husband either, but that's also not a denial, and he bitterly complains that she only returned to Canada to finalize the divorce, not have sex with her now ex-husband! He then decides to wave a red flag in front of a bill, FORBIDDING her from seeing Emile! Well that's going to go well for you, Roger! Angrily she declares that SHE is the one who is going to end up getting thrown aside when HE eventually decides to run away with one of his secretaries. He takes a beat before declaring that was a low blow, because of course he's done just that very thing before. But she's not done bitching, angrily muttering in French about how he hasn't considered what will happen to her when he is "gone" (whether by death or by secretary) and she is left wandering the streets of Manhattan with nothing but her little suitcase and a dollar in her pocket. Roger, struggling to keep up with her rapid-fire French, complains he only got "suitcase" and demand she rant slowly or in English! She gets the gist of it out pretty drat quickly though, he lives in a hotel so he can find another room! Astonished, he realizes she is kicking him out of his own hotel room, her only compromise being to order him to sleep in the lounge with the television which "is your friend now". Baffled as to how the "natural" order of things got turned around, he find himself marching naked with only a blanket wrapped around him to sleep on the couch, while Marie has the bed to herself to seethe in. A tremendous start to their now no longer hidden relationship! Early evening in California, Stephanie is quietly making her exit to go on her Retreat when she stops to look at Don, deep asleep on the couch. Walking over, she prods him awake, then informs him of what she has just decided, like Marie taking matters into her own hands, though in this case to get a man OFF the couch instead of onto it: he's coming with her on the Retreat. In Rye, Gene is carefully peeling wrappers of processed cheese slices while Bobby scrapes burned toast into the sink, when an unexpected voice greets them: Sally. Gene happily says hello to his big sister, while Bobby turns to stare at her and then asks a question heavy with a weight he shouldn't have to feel: is "it" going to happen tonight? She pretends she doesn't know what he means, insisting that she just missed them and wanted to come see them. Bobby though is young, not stupid, and realizing she has to have a very uncomfortable conversation with him, she tells Gene to go watch television. "No!" exclaims Gene without aggression, more an automatic attempt not to be excluded by their siblings. Bobby though warns him to go and Gene immediately leaves, a nice bit of shorthand to remind there are pecking orders among siblings and Bobby is obviously the "boss" of this pairing. Alone at last, Sally asks where "they" are and Bobby explains Henry is still at work and their mother is lying down... that this is all she really can do anymore. He doesn't think they know he knows, but he overheard their angry arguments about Betty's refusal to undertake extreme treatment options, he's aware his mother is dying and has had to keep that secret to himself all this time. One wonders, how long has he known? When he says arguments does he mean when she was first diagnosed? Or perhaps this was more recent? How has Betty's decisions to send the boys to live with William sat with Henry? They are not biologically his, but he's never treated Bobby as anything other than a son, and Gene has known him his entire life even if he understands Henry is Henry and Don is daddy. Is Bobby aware of the plans for him when his mother is gone, of the earth-shaking changes in he and Gene's life that will be not only losing her but their home, their friends, everything? Sally chooses not to talk down to him or offer meaningless assurances that they both know won't come true. Instead she admits that she doesn't know how long their mother has left, but she's canceled her highly anticipated trip to Madrid in order to stay at home instead. Bobby notes that she won't like that, but Sally is untroubled, she has made her decision and she's sticking with it. Noting the burnt toast, she asks what happens, and Bobby admits that he was trying to make dinner and it all went wrong. That itself says a lot, Betty either didn't notice the smell of burned toast or was too weak to make a fuss about it (or willing to believe whatever lie Bobby told her to cover it up). Sally instructs him to get the frying pan, she'll show him how to make proper toasted cheese sandwiches, dumping his burned attempt into the trash, taking on the role that her mother no longer can and that Bobby - try though he might - isn't ready for yet.   Don and Stephanie arrive at their Retreat, lead in the darkness by lantern to a cabin where Stephanie isn't pleased to discover already has one inhabitant, sleeping soundly in one of several beds. Their guide explains this arrangement makes things "more communal" and lays out the schedule: they have "Sun Salutation" at Dawn, followed by Yoga and Tai Chi, then a silent meal at 7am followed by seminars from 9am. Without even thinking, Don peels off some cash to give her as a tip, their guide just beaming serenely and thanking Don for being so generous before taking her leave. With a sigh, Don looks over their welcome sheet with the lantern, reading out some of the seminars on offer: Psychotechnics? Anxiety and Tension Control? Divorce, A Creative Experience!?! Stephanie though suggests he keep an open mind, noting he may find being here helpful with whatever is going on with him. Don notes that the woman took his money, which he sees as a good sign... at least there is something going on here he understands and can work with! She shushes him though, telling him to get some sleep, putting out the lantern and offering him a good night. The beds at least aren't bunks, the other man in the bed beside him snoring a little but not TOO close. He lays on the bed, another new experience on his road trip, and though this one is as unexpected as the one he had in Oklahoma, at least it doesn't involve him taking a beating. The next day, Roger brings Kevin home to Joan's, after taking him out for pancakes as part of his continued presence in the life of a little boy who has no idea he is his father. Helping him out of his jacket, Kevin immediately races for the television afterwards, and Roger asks if Joan has a minute to chat. She does, though she makes a point of changing the channel to something more kid-friendly first to keep Kevin distracted. He explains that he's been revising his Will recently, and with Margaret "lost", he has divided up the inheritance to go mostly to Ellery.... and the rest to Kevin. He doesn't say his name, just motions to him, not wanting the little boy to hear his name and take an interest. Joan offers a warning tone but Roger cuts her off before she can get into it, explaining that he knows she doesn't want his money but the money isn't for her.... it's for Kevin. He's telling her now because he doesn't want her caught off-guard having to awkwardly explain to to some why a complete stranger left HER son a small fortune... like a certain doctor for instance. Grimacing, Joan points out that Greg had twins with "some nurse" and as far as he's concerned, Kevin "never happened". Astonished, Roger asks if that means Greg knows Kevin wasn't his, but Joan coldly corrects that no, Greg's just a terrible person! He really, really is! Then what about the guy she is "hiding" from him? Joan smirks at this little dig, and tells him that Richard (and that's all she is giving Roger) is a man of the world. But she has a question, why is he doing this now? It's an expensive way to "mark your territory" as she puts it, but when Roger admits that you get to thinking about things like this in your "final chapter" she worriedly asks if he is ill. Not really, he's just... getting married! She's surprised but then not too surprised, smirking and noting that the skirts ARE pretty short at McCann-Erickson! He waves off the idea that he's marrying a secretary (again!) though, explaining he met the future Mrs. Sterling through Megan Draper, in fact she's old enough to be Megan's mother.... because she is Megan's mother! Joan takes a moment to let that sink in and then just bursts out laughing, utterly delighted with the madness Roger continually lives in, admitting that this is spectacular and a huge mess and she obviously couldn't be happier about it. But Roger is happy too, because... it's not a mess! Everybody knows about he and Marie now and... nobody cares! Everybody (that he cares about) has given the relationship their blessing, and now the only real question is if he proposed to her last night or this morning or if Marie is the only person he hasn't told his plans to yet! More importantly though, does Joan agree to his bequest? Commenting that if this is what Roger REALLY wants, then yes she gives her blessing... and she has to admit, it is a relief to know that no matter what happens to herself, THEIR beautiful little boy will be taken care of. Roger agrees, and standing he calls for his unknowing son to come give him a hug goodbye. Kevin is completely entranced by Huckleberry Hound though (Hanna-Barbera probably still kicking themselves over missing out on Scout's Honor to the Japanese!), not moving from the television. "Little rich bastard," jokes Roger, and then delightfully realizes the double-layer of that joke as he points out to Joan that Kevin really is just that! She laughs too, and it's noticeable that since leaving McCann-Erickson, the tension appears to have disappeared and the smiles and the laughter come far more readily. All it cost her was 250k, and though the job itself was one she loved, the environment was clearly toxic to her in more ways than just the obvious Ferg Donnelly way. At the Retreat, Don smokes while looking out at people doing Tai Chi on a hillside looking out over the ocean. Stephanie joins him carrying her bag, admitting she didn't want to just leave it in the room, and an amused Don reminds her they are supposed to "be open" here, playing mocking her paranoia about theft. Knowing he has her dead to rights on that, she grunts that they should get going, and they head off to join their seminar... which involves people just kind of milling about walking randomly around a room. The seminar guide, bearded in a turtleneck, offers not instructions so much as guidance, telling them just to walk aimlessly and without any other purpose but to move their legs. As they wander about, Stephanie grins at Don's obvious discomfort, and finally the guide has them stop before instructing them to turn and look at the person next to them, then communicate how that person makes them feel WITHOUT using words. Desperately uncomfortably, Don glances around the room to see what everybody else is doing: one pair hugs, the guide asking if that feels honest to them, while Stephanie and a man touch the other's faces with their fingers, Stephanie giggling at the sensation. Don can't stop staring at that, and his partner - an older woman - decides to share her feelings in a very clear fashion, physically shoving Don hard enough that he stumbles back a step: pay attention to ME, rear end in a top hat! True to her word, Joan meets Peggy for lunch, the two sharing a little hug and a peck on the cheek... and a envelope with a check in it for Peggy. She is quick to assure Joan this is NOT the only reason she came to the lunch, but she takes the envelope eagerly enough, opening it up and letting out a stunned,"HOLY poo poo!" at the amount on it, which is clearly more than the $1200 she was expecting. Joan asks the waiter for a couple of Bloody Marys and assures Peggy this check is just the tip of the iceberg (Peggy worriedly admits she is never sure if that's good or bad), explaining that the director of the Dow film has two more Industrials lined up and he has asked Joan to produce them... and Joan wants Peggy in on the gig too. Not only that, but when Ken handed in the script Peggy wrote, Dow put him in charge of the entire presentation and gave it a 60k budget, and Joan is going to be producing that too. Peggy points out she has a demanding job already, though Joan rather correctly points out that she DOESN'T have a contract with McCann, she just went over to work there as part of the absorption of SC&P. A little overwhelmed by the offer of all this extra work and money, Peggy admits she figured Joan would be enjoying retirement on the beach, and indeed Joan did enjoy her beach vacation in Florida... and then it was over and she's ready to get back to work. She did the job for Ken, and she came to a realization: she could easily do this job for a living. The skills she has from Sterling Cooper, SCDP & SC&P are largely transferable, she could make an actual Production Company, and once enough work comes in she could hire extra writers to help Peggy with the workload. Only now does Peggy start to understand that Joan hasn't come to this lunch to offer her side-gigs under the table, she's come to offer her an entirely new job. And then Joan makes an offer that even makes that pale, as she tells her the planned name for the Production Company itself. Harris-Olson. "You need two names to make it sound real," she smirks as the Bloody Marys arrive. Peggy is stunned, not quite believing the offer she has just been made. Joan sweetly asks the waiter to give them a minute and he leaves them alone, and Peggy asks her if she is really being serious? She is, Joan assures her, basking in the thought as she explains that they wouldn't be answerable to anybody, that they'd be their own bosses making their own decisions. A broad smile crosses Peggy's face at the thought, but then as they so often do intrusive thoughts start warning her not to do anything rash. She doesn't know if she can do that, and Joan's smile fades a little, admitting she can't really believe Peggy would hesitate to leap at this chance, surely she can't want to keep working at "that place"? It's a big decision though, Peggy notes, and Joan - trying not to feel too sour at Peggy's enthusiasm not matching hers - agrees that it is and she can have time to think about it... but she needs to find somebody by the end of the week. "Find a partner," acknowledges Peggy quietly, and Joan corrects her. No, she needs to find a WRITER by the end of the week. The Partnership? That's for Peggy ONLY. That broad smile returns to Peggy's face again before she forces it down, not wanting to get too caught up in the moment. Joan though is satisfied that this may have baited her prey, and she starts reviewing her menu. Nervous, Peggy pumps the celery into her Bloody Mary, then takes a big gulp before looking at her own menu. This was supposed to be a pleasant catch-up over lunch with a woman who has been equal parts enemy, friend and mentor in the past, with a nice bit of money thrown in at the side.... and now she's faced with the chance to abandon both McCann-Erickson AND advertising and become a Partner in her own start-up Production Company with that same woman!   At the Retreat, the seminars have gotten a little more serious now, as they sit around in a circle and the woman guide leading it asks Stephanie to say how she is feeling in this moment with everybody's eyes on her. Stephanie admits that she feels like everybody is judging her, and then unloads further when asked how that makes her feel: like she's sitting in front of her parents, that everybody is looking at her the way her parents look at her now. She lists the things she feels they judge her for, that she shouldn't have dropped out of school, that she shouldn't have been in a relationship with a "lowlife", that she shouldn't have got pregnant, that she should have automatically been in love with being a mother. Don listens, both fascinated and appalled to see her emotions and thoughts laid bare like this, something he has almost never been able to do with others unless forced into the position and his guard laid low by enormous alcohol consumption. One of the other attendees, the same man who shares their cabin (played by Brett Gelman!) offers a nice sounding but largely meaningless,"Life is full of shoulds!" Admitting that she made a mistake, Stephanie insists that this is why she came to the Retreat, because she wants to get it together. Unfortunately, one of the other attendees takes this the wrong way, another woman who eagerly asks Stephanie if she wants to get it together so she can be with her baby. "What?" asks Stephanie,"No!" This is further confirmation to her though that people are judging her, because like Peggy Olson a decade earlier Stephanie has to deal constantly with people who assume any mother will automatically love their baby and want to be with it, and that anybody who doesn't has something wrong with them. For Stephanie at least this has just lead to a rift with her parents, while for Peggy only 10 years earlier it lead to being locked up in a psychiatric ward. In that respect, Don (or Dick as she knows him) is one of the few people Stephanie knows who really meant it when they just accepted what she told them. The guide asks Stephanie to share how the other woman - Angie - made her feel hearing that. Stephanie snaps that it makes her feel small and insignificant, but this also means that now Angie gets to talk about how SHE feels, and while she is of course absolutely entitled to her own opinion, it's one that dictates how Stephanie SHOULD feel just as Stephanie was complaining. All wide-eyed sorrow, Angie tells Stephanie that she feels sadness for Stephanie's baby. Not Stephanie. The baby. Angie explains that she grew up without a mother, and she can tell Stephanie from her personal experience that her baby is going to spend her entire life staring at the door each day waiting for its mother to walk through the door. This appalling line goes completely unchallenged by the guide, whose role appears to be simply to ask people if they'd like to talk, if they'd like to say how they feel, and if it is all right for themselves to talk. She asks Stephanie if she'd like to hear how SHE feels to have heard all this, perhaps hoping to tortuously make her way around to the point that Angie's experience in no way reflects a universal truth even if it is still a completely valid emotional reaction for Angie to have herself. But Stephanie, already feeling exposed, judged, and now hit with this appalling and untrue generalization, can't take it anymore and flees sobbing from the room. Don stares around, waiting for somebody to say something, either to condemn Angie or the Guide or to at least show some sympathy to Stephanie... but they all just sit, apparently serene, just waiting for their turn to share how they feel. Outraged, he leaves, chasing after Stephanie, stopping her from running, insisting she not listen to "those people". Stephanie, still crying, accuses him of treating the Retreat as a big laugh, but he has some wisdom of his own he wants to share, built from his own experience. She wasn't brought up "with Jesus", but he knows all too well what can happen to people when "they believe in things". The trouble is, he doesn't elaborate on what that means. The small-mindedness, the petty authoritarian judgement, the conviction that their way is the only moral way and therefore the only right way, and thus all who don't follow it are free to be condemned or harassed. Instead he offers her what he always seeks for himself: escape. He could move to LA, he could help her put her life back together. But that itself is just a distraction, and a still weeping Stephanie points that out to him. She knows the "truth" about her situation, even if it is hard to hear it, but she doesn't know what HE wants or what he is doing. Why did he just show up out of the blue with an old family heirloom? Why is he offering to look after her and help her rebuild her life when they are NOT family. The only real connection between them, Anna, is gone, so what is it he is looking for? This isn't an accusation that he's trying to seduce her or anything crass like that, despite the fact he did make a move on her the first time we saw her in the show. The ulterior motive she suspects isn't sexual, she knows that there is something wrong with Dick Whitman and that his offers to help her are born out of something inside himself that he can't fix or perhaps even understand. She knows that better than he knows it himself, because even now in his 40s he continues to try and fill the void in his life with things, with people, with tasks, with goals. For as miserable as she is in this moment, she is taking on the pain head-on because she knows she needs to in order to move on with her life... but what is HE doing? The only answer he can give is that he knows how people work. He offers her a variation of the same advice he once gave Peggy Olson, advice that was a tremendous help to her: an assurance that she can put "this" behind her and that it will get easier as she moves forward. But what worked for Peggy won't necessarily work for Stephanie. Sadly she tells him that she doesn't think he's right about that, a statement that seems to floor him, because of course he's a living example of just how much things do NOT get easier as you try and move on without actually confronting your problems. Telling him she needs to lie down but she'll see him after dinner, she walks away. Don is left confused and agitated, not knowing where to go, what to do, unable to really grasp how to deal with this situation but especially not how to answer the questions she has asked him. What is he doing? He still doesn't know, his road trip was never an answer, it was just another way to avoid facing up to things, even as he unconsciously divested himself of more and more of his identity. Here he is, back in California again, trying to return to some fictional state of contentment by unconsciously turning Stephanie into his new Anna, the only person who ever really truly knew him and understood him and who he could feel completely and totally honest with. More than Megan outside of that brief infatuated honeymoon period, certainly far more than Betty, or any of the many other women he spent a night, a week, a month, a year with etc.   In New York, Stan pops his head into Peggy's doorway to let her know he's off for the evening. Peggy, sitting with her feet up, an ashtray full of cigarette butts and a glass of whisky, stares at nothing for a moment and then remarks that she plans to sit and stare at the four walls. Amused, he notes that if she isn't planning to do any actual work then he'd be happy to stick around and "catch up" to her current state. She agrees, telling him to close the door behind him, which of course reveals the octopus print on her wall.... also festooned with Halloween decorations! She pours him a drink and asks if he likes it at McCann, and he admits it has grown on him. Perhaps that is what she has been considering herself, she was reluctant to come to the Agency but even her recent clash with Lorraine showed that she was still able to forge a path here even without the "protection" of working under Ted, Pete, Joan or Don. So she lets him know about her offer: Joan is starting a Production Company and wants Peggy in on it too, as a writer AND a Partner. "....oh," says Stan after a pause, considering that and the implications that come with it. Peggy, grinning, points out that she'd have her name on the door, but Stan notes that this alone isn't a good enough reason to take up the offer. A little offended, she asks if he thinks it'll fail, and he admits that no he doesn't, but he does think she has a rare talent and she should stop looking over her shoulder worrying about what other people have. More offended now, she accuses him of saying she couldn't pull it off, which offends HIM as he quite rightly points out that he literally just said the opposite of that! What he thinks she is actually excited about isn't the job itself, but the fact she would be in charge. But a Production Company? Working for a Producer? That isn't what she does! She's a Copywriter, a drat good one too, and when she accuses him of having no ambition he points out there is a difference between that and the fact that he is very happy being good at his job and has nothing else to prove! "Spoken like a failure," she sneers, and immediately regrets it. It's too late though. Stan places his glass down, collects his coat and quietly tells her that she had better be VERY drunk, because she's going to need that excuse the next time they talk. "There's more to life than work," he tells her, ignoring her attempt to call him back, in no mood for her apology right now. He walks out, leaving her regretting what she said and still no closer to figuring out if she wants the job Joan offered her or if she's just trying to convince herself she does. At the Retreat, Don is sleeping in his bed, stirring when he hears the door open and sees Stephanie quietly enter, hop into her own bed and turn off the lantern. Saying nothing, he turns back to his pillow to sleep, satisfied she is back, not wanting to trouble her or start something unnecessary by talking when they can take the following morning as a chance for a fresh start. The next morning in New York, Joan pours coffee in her apartment, Richard popping his head out the bedroom and asking if the coast is clear. It's just them, her mother and Kevin are out, and he takes a seat at the table grinning that he could eat a dozen eggs. She has bad news though, she can't go to Old Lyme this afternoon after all, Nathan's Frankfurters want to show her around ahead of the Industrial Film she'll be producing for them. Pulling on his shoes, Richard chuckles that if she's going to Coney Island, they can make a day of it. She's amused at the idea but points out that this is a business meeting, and suddenly things aren't so amusing for Richard, as he points out a business meeting means... she's started a business? "We'll see," she grins, excited by the notion, not quite reading his mood she's so distracted by her own good one. "What are you doing?" he moans with a little playful smile, but when she grins that it's just a couple of projects, the smile and the playfulness disappear as he sulkingly asks if she doesn't want to be with him. Of course she does, she insists, but also... well, this is her chance to build something. Unbelievably, his response is to complain that if she does this, it will take up all of her time, energy AND attention. A little troubled now but still trying to take this lightly, she promises that won't happen, and when he points out he already "built something" and that is exactly what HE did, she reminds him that he also loved every minute of doing it. The most charitable thing to say about what follows is that Richard is at least being completely honest with her. He straight up admits that he wants to be with her, and therefore if she was to start a business, it would put him in the position of wishing for her to fail simply to avoid her being too distracted to be with him. There is absolutely no hesitation in him acknowledging that the freedom that comes from his own enormous success means he now wants to dictate what she can and can't do to keep HIM happy. Joan's little grin slowly drops, the good mood falls, her face darkens and this time it isn't cocaine-fueled excitement in the question when she asks him if he wants to get married and they can if he wants, making it very clear that by marriage she means "do you want to tell me what I can and can't do and have me just be your pretty wife who dotes on you night and day". The phone rings, but she stays in place, waiting for an answer. He promises her that he doesn't want to get married, that he doesn't want to go back to where he was earlier in his life. The phone keeps ringing, and Joan points out that they're both different people, they can make a relationship and work... well, work! But the phone keeps ringing, and Richard points out that he knows she wants to answer it. She doesn't, she retorts, but she knows she should.... but she makes no move, still wanting to thrash this out with Richard, telling him he's being silly while he insists she is acting like this new business idea is HAPPENING to her rather than a conscious choice she is making. But that's the point, it is HER choice. She notes that she would never dream of forcing Richard to make a choice like he trying to push on her. Shaking his head, acting like somehow he is the one this is happening to rather HIM being the one making the choice, he insists that he simply won't share her, and makes it clear that it is the business or him. Finally she can't take the ringing phone anymore and stands up to answer it. Richard takes that as his answer, collecting his things. Joan answers the phone and asks the person to please hold, shielding the handpiece to try and get him to stop leaving. With a sad little smile he wishes her good luck and walks out the door, leaving her in utter disbelief. She stands for a moment, the camera pushing in on her, tears in her eyes.... and then she regathers herself and takes the call, apologizing to Jeff - her director - for the wait. Richard, a "man of the world", is paradoxically both the kind of man who would understand and not judge learning that Roger was Kevin's father but also the kind of man who would throw a little tantrum and walk out on a passionate relationship over something so utterly ridiculous. He always presented as a man utterly confident in who and what he was, but there were warning signs even in his first episode that he was... well, that he was a child. This is a man wealthy enough that he has gotten used to having his own way. A man who ended a probably 20-year-marriage in what sounded for all the world like a mid-life crisis. A man who decides for others what he dictates is allowed in their lives or not. He relented on the fact she was a mother, even though he'd made it clear his only interest was in her.... but now learning that he'd have to share her attention not just with a little boy but a business? That was too much for him to take. He would deny Joan the chance to do the same thing that he did, because he already got the benefit from it and now he wants her to just passively be there for him regardless of her own motivations and goals. If he wanted a trophy wife, there are plenty out there to choose from, but that isn't Joan. She already gave up plenty for her first (second) marriage with Greg, and though Richard was a far nicer, supportive, interesting and confident man than Greg ever was... well, it looks for all the world like Joan just dodged a bullet. Stan was right when he told Peggy that there is more to life than work, but Richard was wrong to try and decide for Joan that her being in his life trumped her being able to work.  
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Sep 10, 2022 17:39
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Don wakes to find the other beds in his cabin empty... and Stephanie's bed stripped down. Getting dressed, he heads outside and finds his cabin-mate sitted in a chair in the sun, naked and reading a book. He asks if he's seen Stephanie, and he says she left a few hours ago. He doesn't know where she went, assuring Don he would have asked if he'd known HE needed to know. A short time later, Don rushes to reception, carrying his "luggage" (a Sears bag) and asking how he can get out of the Retreat, as his friend has gone and taken the car with her. She helpfully explains they can get him a car with a driver... in a couple of days. If he doesn't want to wait, he could hitchhike, but with a giggle she notes that he'd be waiting awhile since nobody picks up hikers anymore thanks to "Charlie Manson". Frustrated, Don demands to know if people really can just come and go without saying goodbye, ignoring the fact that he has done this multiple times in his life including so recently when he walked out of McCann! With a winning smile, laughing as if the idea should be the most simple thing in the world for him to grasp, she reminds him that people are free to come and go as they please. He's paid up for the week, and she's sure that somebody will give him a ride out of there when their week is up too... but she can't magically make Stephanie reappear because she didn't say goodbye! So what does he do? He makes a call.... to Peggy Olson. Shocked to hear the operator tell her she has a person-to-person call from Donald Draper, she quickly accepts the call, and then immediately and angrily demands to know where the hell he is! His answer of "Somewhere in California" doesn't help, and she continues to lash out, especially when he quietly asks if everything fell apart without him (yes, McCann-Erickson, the biggest Ad Agency in the world, collapsed when a newly hired Creative Director who hadn't actually worked on any campaign yet walked out the door!), snapping that this isn't the point, everybody was worried about him! What the hell has he being doing? "....I don't know," he offers at last, taking a seat on the stool at the payphone outside the reception building,"I have no idea." Her anger spent now, Peggy tries to offer a little understanding, showing that she understands Don in some ways better than he understands himself by noting that she knows he gets bored of things and runs away... but he CAN come home. He offers a sad, exhausted little chuckle at the notion of "home", asking where that actually is, because he certainly doesn't know. But she insists that McCann will take him back in a second, taking a seat again behind her desk after having stood up to yell at him, getting a little conspiratorial whisper in now as she gossips that apparently he isn't the first Senior Executive to suddenly disappear only to show back up a little while later. Doesn't he want to be back? Surely he wants to work on Coca Cola! But he can't, he sadly whispers,"I can't get out of here." The surface reading of that is literal, of course, he legitimately CAN'T get out of there, he has no car! But he's talking about more than that, obviously, because where he can't get out of is his own head. Sensing something more akin to the raw and exposed Don Draper she spent a night with in The Suitcase rather than the hyper-confident "perfect" man he usually presents, Peggy's anger has been replaced by concern now. "Don," she insists firmly,"Come home." Not crying, just expressing his own emotions and thoughts in a way he simply couldn't in that circle session, he tells Peggy how he is feeling. He messed everything up, he's not the man she thinks he is. She sits with that for a few awful moments, and then quietly asks him a question designed to hopefully make him realize things aren't as bad as he thinks, or at least give her something to work with to convince him of that: what did he ever do that was SO bad he can't "come home"? "I broke all my vows," he whispers,"I scandalized my child. I took another man's name, and made.... nothing of it." "That's NOT true," she insists, because though she can't speak to the first two, she knows that he made the name Don Draper mean something. But her alarm continues to grow as the uncharacteristically low energy and quietly whispering Don admits he only called her because he realized that he never said goodbye to her. That line is the most troubling of all, because it is a goodbye that has finality to it, and not in the sense that they just won't see each other again. It sounds like the kind of thing somebody says before killing themselves. "I don't think you should be alone right now," she warns, and his response terrified her as he suddenly babbles that he's in a crowd and just wanted to hear her voice and he'll see her soon, and then hangs up as she calls for him to wait. It sounds for all the world like somebody saying what he thinks he wants the other person to hear. For his part, once Don hangs up the phone, all the energy drains from his body, as if the call ate up what little strength he had left. Emotionally drained, utterly exhausted by what has been weeks of simply driving and moving and drinking and trying not to think, he collapses to a seated position against the wall, unable to do anything but stare at the ground and breathe. The road trip, which felt like a chance for him to unload his tensions and stresses and baggage and finally relax and be himself... has revealed that he doesn't actually know what he is without that tension, stress and baggage. Stephanie's questions were ones he couldn't answer: he doesn't know what he's doing or why he is doing it. Even the call to Peggy was spurred by Stephanie's absence, because of course her situation couldn't help but bring to mind Peggy's own, even if it was a decade earlier.   At McCann, Peggy puts through a call to Stan, the person she always calls when she needs to talk to somebody. Hearing her voice he's of course annoyed, still angry at her for what she said the previous night... until she tells him she just got off the phone with Don, and he forgets all that in his excitement to ask where the hell he is. She admits she doesn't know anything more than California, but she's more concerned with the way he sounded, she's worried about his safety. Pausing to cast a meaningful glare at the other artist eavesdropping on the conversation from his desk until he leaves to give him some privacy, Stan tells not to worry: Don always does this kind of thing and he always comes back, he's a survivor. She isn't placated though, he didn't hear the way Don sounded, and he wasn't making any sense. Stan though offers a practical piece of advice, she has to let Don go... and it doesn't mean that she doesn't care for him, but what can she do? He's "somewhere in California", 155,000 miles and twenty million residents. She sits for a moment taking that in, and of course how it applies not just to her relationship with Don. Finally she says what she wanted to say the night before but that he wasn't ready to hear.... she's sorry for the lovely things she said to him. He's had a chance to cool down too, despite his initial grumpy response to hearing her voice, and he assures her that she is going to succeed no matter what she chooses to do. She does think he was right about why she was considering the move though, and she's decided to stay. Despite just saying she would succeed regardless, he is relieved to hear it, if only for his own benefit, because he didn't want her to leave! Now she's a little grumpy again, complaining that he could have just said that! But he admits that he always manages to say the wrong thing when face-to-face with her, and they argue, and he or she storm out.... and then he misses her, and he calls her on the phone, and suddenly he's got the person he WANTS to talk to, and everything is okay again. That's not true, she insists, but he is adamant: whenever he's with her in person it brings out something terrible (maybe in her, maybe in him, probably in both) and he doesn't know why. Chuckling as he recalls how she "came into his life" - beating him in a nude game of wills! - he admits that it drove him crazy but now he doesn't know what to do with his life because all he wants to do is be with her. Wait... what!?! "What?" asks Peggy, echoing my own reaction,"What did you just say?" Stan takes a moment, pondering if he should make a hamfisted attempt to over-explain or cover up or walk it back... and then decides gently caress it and just repeats himself. "I want to be with you," he says again, and then adds on with emphasis just to make the point clear,"I'm in love with you." "................" says Peggy. Then she thinks about it some more, and finally comes up with a response. "What?" "I love you, Peggy," he says again, determined not to just get it out there. He's been with many women, hell he's made moves on her before even after she humiliated him in their nude brinkmanship, and she even made a desperate attempt at seduction on him once when she was scared of a mouse.... but as out of left field as this all seems, the fact is the two have been a couple for a very long time now, it's just that it's always been a work couple! Now it seems, one of them wants it to be more than that. "Oh my God," she says at last, admitting that's what she thought he said... but she doesn't know what to say! All thought of Don has fled from her mind now, as she racks her brain to think of how to deal with this situation. She starts, in typical Peggy fashion, in the worst way possible by insisting that she doesn't think about him at all! "Uhhh," he manages a pained grunt, but she quickly explains that of course she thinks about him... she thinks about him all the time! But only because he's always there! And he is in her heart of course, and he makes everything okay and she can rely on him and trust him and reach out to him and..... and as Stan leans forward on the other end of the phone unable to believe what is happening, Peggy comes to a startled realization that crept up on her so slowly she hadn't even realized it happened until this sudden jolt. "I think I'm in love with you, too." Tears in her eyes, happiness welling up inside her, she waits for Stan's response, a girlish smile on her face, excitement and anticipation making her giddy... and there is none. Worried, not sure if they were cut off or he hung up or worst of all if this was some lovely prank he was pulling that she took seriously, she calls his name and gets no response. And then suddenly he races into the doorway, slightly out of breath, taking a moment to try and look cool as he asks her,"What were you saying?" "I love you," she repeats, and they meet halfway in, kissing and embracing, a moment that could cynically be said to be a result of this being the final episode of the show... except of course as Peggy herself just laid out, they've been like this since at least she worked at CGC and Stan was the person she'd call and talk away late worknights with. Friendship and love aren't the same thing, but sometimes love blooms from friendship, and often it shows up when you least expect it. That's what we have here, in a charming and rather heartwarming moment, Peggy and Stan have realized that they were already in a relationship and just didn't realize it.   Don remains seated against the wall, his breathing under control now but all his energy and strength still completely gone. The seminar guide who lead the circle comes by and, spotting him, asks if he is waiting for a phone call? "What?" he grunts, not really hearing or understanding her, and she asks a question that makes perfect sense, has he taken something? He doesn't respond to that, and not wanting to leave him in this state whether he is high or not, she suggests he might like to come with her to her next seminar. "I can't move," he manages to grunt, but she assures him she can, and extends an hand, telling him she's late and he'd be helping HER out if she was able to walk in with somebody else. He allows her to help him to his feet, and is meekly lead along to the seminar, being lead by the male seminar guide, who is listening to Don's cabin-mate (thankfully clothed now) discuss how his prior relationship he and his partner both had hang-ups but only ONE of them was willing to do something to reduce the conflict: presumably a passive aggressive way of putting the blame on her and casting himself as the hero who tried to make things better. His piece said, he returns to his own chair, and the guide doesn't direct anybody but simply looks at the empty chair next to himself and then glances meaningfully around the room: all of this is of course supposed to be voluntary, self-led, with the guides never telling anybody to do anything, just asking them leading questions to encourage them down the path they feel they need to be on. Nobody makes a move, and the female guide looks to Don hoping he might take the chance... but he's not really there, staring at nothing, having been willing to be walked to the seminar but still wrapped up in his own head. Instead, another man seated beside him stands up and moves to the empty chair, taking the seat looking both excited to speak and nervous. Middle-aged, balding, he looks like your average office worker, and he admits as he introduces himself that there isn't all that much complicated about him, so he SHOULD be happier. The guide reminds the man - Leonard - to remember what he told Daniel about the word should, and Daniel smiles at the acknowledgement. Daniel himself of course repeated that line in the previous seminar when talking to Stephanie, which says a lot about him: perhaps the most cynical take being that he apes what he hears to others, and builds an identity for himself out of these pieces of wisdom and believes they give him perspective himself, much like how he accused his wife/girlfriend of being the cause of the relationship failing even as he admitted his own "hang-ups". How is that relevant to Leonard? Only insofar as Leonard is NOT like Daniel. He puts a more positive spin on it, saying that Daniel of course is interesting, while he himself is anything but. He's never been interesting to anybody, he works in an office (told ya!) and people don't seem to see him. He has a wife and kids, and they don't even look up when he sits down. The guide asks him how it feels to say that and Leonard admits he doesn't know... and then offers bitterly that it's like nobody cares that's he gone. Don blinks, the words that have sliding off him falling away as those ones penetrate right to the center of his brain. The female guide notices, pleased to see him engaging, while Don listens with rapt fascination as this man who he would seem to be the polar opposite of him describes in almost perfect detail the way Don feels all the time. Betty told him what was normal for the kids was for him NOT to be there. She didn't tell him she was dying, and her plan when she dies is for their kids to go and live with her brother, not him. Megan is gone from his life. Anna is dead. Stephanie doesn't know what he wants from her but reminded him forcefully they weren't family and then simply left without him. SC&P is gone, McCann felt only the tiniest little bump in the road for his absence and even Peggy told him that was something that had happened before. Leonard describes feeling like his family might love him but he doesn't even know what that is, and that's the problem. You spend your whole life wanting love from others and thinking you aren't getting it, and finally you realize that people are TRYING to but you don't know what it is. The problem is YOU, not them. Don listens, caught up in every word, Leonard telling them about a dream he had where he was on the top shelf of a refrigerator in the dark. He speaks in the second person, his own way of trying to draw in the others perhaps, and for Don it certainly works, finding himself on the other side of a very different and unintentional type of pitch. He talks about how outside you could hear people eating, laughing, enjoying themselves. The door opened, and there they all were, smiling and getting along, and they were pleased to see you.... but then you realized they were looking past you, picking something else. They take it and not you, and they close the door again, and you're left in the dark. Finishing his recounting, Leonard tries to smile, perhaps a little embarrassed to have opened himself up so much, perhaps trying to make everybody understand he knows the dream is a little absurd... but instead of a laugh, a sob bursts out of him. He begins to shake, crying even as he still tries to hold in the smile, and Don's reaction is immediately. In their first seminar, the guide told them to communicate feeling without words. Don of course did not such thing beyond getting shoved by his partner. Here though, he simply stands and without embarrassment or fear of ridicule steps across the circle and draws Leonard into a tight hug. Leonard's crying intensifies, and we see one of the few times Don Draper allows himself to cry, and perhaps the first time he has ever allowed himself to cry in public. He's crying for himself of course, but the comfort he offers Leonard is genuine, the empathy he feels is real, because Leonard has finally articulated what Don has feared ever since he was a boy named Dick Whitman and only grew into sharper relief after he stole Don Draper's identity. Nobody loves him, nobody needs him, and nobody will miss him when he's gone. https://i.imgur.com/ge0PbU1.mp4 As Don Draper FINALLY lets his emotional walls down and allows himself to cry, we get what will be out final look at a range of the truly delightful characters who have graced Mad Men across the seasons. Pete Campbell leads his recently reconciled wife Trudy out of their limousine, scooping up Tammy into his arms as Trudy gapes in awe at their own private Lear Jet, ready to take them to Kansas and a new life. Joan passes Kevin to her mother as she moves into the kitchen, calendars and storyboards laying out plans for the industrial films she is producing. Her Rolodex is huge now, there is plenty of work and something to build for herself, Joan finally the boss not only of her work but her own life. The college student who is Kevin's babysitter now doubles as a secretary, answering the phone and giving the company's two-name title that is needed so it will "seem real": Holloway-Harris. Perfection. Roger and Marie honeymoon in Paris, sitting together in a crowded cafe where a delighted Marie gestures to an elderly couple and states that one day this will be them. Her fears of being quickly discarded for a secretary have been quelled for now, and she laughs with delight when Roger notes that one day will be "tomorrow" before asking the waiter to fetch lobster and champagne for he and his "mother". They toast and drink, happy to have found each other even in this "last chapter". In Rye, Sally washes the dishes in the kitchen, taking on the domestic roles in the house her mother is now too sick to perform, her trip to Madrid replaced with a dreaded wait for the inevitable. Betty herself has at least been able to get up from bed, sitting at the kitchen table now resigned to things not being able to just continue as normal. One thing hasn't changed though, as she smokes while reading her newspaper, obviously figuring at this point why bother changing the habit of a soon to be ended lifetime. It isn't exactly the happiest ending, but the fact mother and daughter have found a detente of sorts after so many years of butting heads is at least something. Sally will be there for her mother, and though Betty feared her daughter going through the same trauma she felt seeing her own mother waste away, at least it will be Sally's own choice and she won't have to live with the regret of not being with her after that is no longer a possibility. Working late into the night at McCann is, of course, Peggy Olson. As indicated by Joan's earlier scene, Peggy did decide to stay at McCann. She's not alone though, as she once feared she would be as potential partners fell apart and she hit the dreaded "30" Joan was once mocked for passing without marrying. Stan is there with her, massaging her shoulders and giving her a little kiss on the forehead as he reviews what she has been working on and she enjoys the comforting presence of another. Then, finally of course, there is Don. As the sun rises he steps out onto the cliff to he was watching from afar earlier in the episode. But there will be no stripping of clothes and disappearing into the water as he once unknowingly fantasized about Hawaii. Don's paralysis was broken by Leonard's "pitch", his tears helped drain out some of the poison he has been carrying deep inside of himself all this time, confronting the pain like Stephanie suggested in order to hopefully finally overcome it. So he joins in what he once clearly thought was ridiculous, sitting in lotus position with the other members of the Retreat as the male guide leads them in the Sun Salutation. As the guide explains how the new day offers a new chance to live, new ideas, and a new you, Don takes it all in. The chant of,"Om" begins, and Don joins in as the camera pushes in on him. But while his participation is genuine, while he is open to the concept of a new life and a new you that of course he has been pursuing for the entire run of Mad Men.... something happens. The smallest, tiniest smile crosses his lips.... and then something bizarre happens. A familiar song begins playing, and in a sudden change of aspect ratio, archival footage of one of the most famous and critically acclaimed advertisements of all time plays. The credits roll, Mad Men ends, not on a cut to black like The Sopranos but on a seemingly unrelated to the main plot commercial. Except, of course, it's not unrelated at all. Don is at a Retreat with people who are trying to make the world a better, more connected place. Don is with people who look like they'd fit right in with that commercial. Don is thinking about new ideas and a new him. That smile by Don Draper leads directly into that ad, and that of course invites just as much speculation as Tony Soprano's look up towards a ringing bell before the cut to black did... albeit with what seems to be a more clear-cut explanation than the former. It is perhaps fitting that the show ends much as it started, on a mystery of what exactly Don Draper is thinking. The placement of the Coca Cola ad, with no explanation, leaves everything up to the viewer's interpretation. For me, it isn't the ad itself but the smile that precedes it that speaks volumes. What to make of that smile? That sudden lifting of the lips into what appears to be pure happiness and satisfaction? Has Don Draper, after spending the last three episodes progressively shedding (figuratively AND literally) more of his baggage, finally found a form of enlightenment, a oneness with his fellow humans sitting in meditation with them? Or has Don Draper, after coming so close to finally changing, fallen once again back on old habits and cynically taken this golden moment and channeled his enormous creative talent once again into a commercial product... albeit one of the most acclaimed and beloved commercials of all time? Or is it both? Because Don has never been shy about mining pure emotion, and often it has proved its own sort of therapy for a man who so vehemently avoided actual therapy until this final episode forced it upon him. In that moment, with that smile, did Don feel a closeness of spirit to his fellow man and woman and decide THIS was something he wanted to share with the world... and the only filter with which he truly knows how to do that is advertising? The answers are not given, anymore than they were given for the finale of The Sopranos, a show which shared so much DNA with Mad Men. Hell, we don't even know if Don Draper made the ad, it was a McCann-Erickson product in real life but of course there the leading creative behind it was Bill Backer. Did Don return to McCann-Erickson? Did he pitch this ad? Did he prove himself the driving force behind it? Did he once again plant himself firmly at the top of the advertising world in spite of his own flaws and missteps, making all Jim Hobart's dreams come true? We don't know, anymore than we know when Betty finally succumbed to her cancer, or if Joan's production company was a success (I'm betting yes), or if Roger and Marie's marriage was a disaster (probably), or how Peggy and Stan's relationship progressed, or whether the shine quickly wore off Pete and Trudy's reunion. Stephanie disappears from the story, we don't know if Ken ever wrote again, Harry presumably continued to sleaze his way through the lower levels of Film and Television, Ted hopefully found happiness.... but the show doesn't show us, or tell us, it just ends leaving the audience to fill in the blanks or guess for themselves. That's fine, because this series perhaps more than many others was forever built on the strength of its characters rather than its plots. Oh sure, we thrilled to see the escape from Sterling Cooper, the salvation of SCDP, the merger with CGC, the fall to McCann etc. But it was getting to visit in the daily lives, loves and happiness (or otherwise) of the central characters that was the show's greatest strength. So we end as we started, with Don Draper. The difference now is we have answers to many of the questions we were left with at the end of the first episode of the first season. We know who Don Draper is, and I suspect now at last in this final scene, he finally knows too. The man who bullshitted about wanting to live a hedonistic lifestyle has proven that a lie multiple times over, he craves love and understanding, a connection he can share with somebody who truly gets him. The man who once unknowingly waxed poetic about the joy it would be to commit suicide in Hawaii is gone. The man who felt he had to present the perfect image of the perfect man at all times to protect his own deep-seated fear and inadequacy has (literally!) embraced those fears and allowed himself to openly weep and show affection to another man without concern for how others might react. Will that new found peace last? Will this prove just another attempt to run away from the gaping hole inside himself by filling it with new accolades, new heights? We don't know, we can only guess, because the show is over, and it ended on a high note that wrapped up almost everything (no Kinsey and no Sal, but you can't have it all I guess) in a deeply satisfying way that stayed true to the writing, the tone and, most importantly, the characters of Mad Men. Putting aside the commercial, which was archival footage, how does Mad Men actually end? Why with a smile of course. Who could ask for a better ending than that? Episode Index Jerusalem fucked around with this message at 05:58 on Sep 11, 2022 |
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Sep 10, 2022 17:39
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I don't have time to read the whole thing just now but I do want to ask something I've been sitting on for like a year now, Jerusalem: did you have deja vu during the group therapy scene? Because I swear you wrote up what Don's whole deal was back in one of your S1 or S2 recaps, using some language that was very similar to what we hear from the guy describing his dream.
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Sep 10, 2022 17:42
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JethroMcB posted:I don't have time to read the whole thing just now but I do want to ask something I've been sitting on for like a year now, Jerusalem: did you have deja vu during the group therapy scene? Because I swear you wrote up what Don's whole deal was back in one of your S1 or S2 recaps, using some language that was very similar to what we hear from the guy describing his dream. Not deja vu, no, if I said things about Don that matched up with what eventually got said here, I'd say that's more a testament to the writing having such a strong idea about what Don's underlying issues were and filtering that through so well in everything he did while presenting such a perfect facade. Leonard's speech immediately leaped out as,"This is EXACTLY how Don feels" which was obviously the intent, but man they just nailed it. The actor who played Leonard did a really good job too, and I really dug that they picked a guy who is basically the complete opposite of Don to encapsulate Don's own fears and feelings of inadequacy. I still gotta do the season 7 recap, and some final thoughts on the show as a whole of course, but man it's hard to believe that's that. 2 years this thread ran, which certainly wasn't how long I thought it would last, and I gotta stress again how utterly thrilled I am at the restraint and thoughtfulness everybody showed in their use of spoiler tags. I can't wait to Read the Thread Again... for the First time!
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Sep 10, 2022 17:50
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Thank you for all the great write-ups, Jerusalem! They've been an absolute joy to read. Leonard's speech in the finale is one of my favorite moments in the whole series. It's beautifully written, beautifully delivered, and I think not only cuts to the heart of who Don Draper is, but touches on something I think a lot of people watching have probably felt. It's a really moving scene and made the whole finale for me. Don Draper finally making a real, completely honest connection, with no walls, no irony, no more pretending. I think my other favorite moment from the finale is Peggy and Pete's last scene together. "A thing like that."
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Sep 10, 2022 18:30
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What an incredible finale. It's definitely one of the best final episodes for any series IMO
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Sep 10, 2022 18:55
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